Page 43 of Love Me Steadfast
Shit, now I’ve made this awkward.
“What did you do to Ollie?” I ask, grasping at anything that will get this conversation back on track.
Ollie looks longingly at Will, a whine working up her throat.
“I’m teaching her manners,” Will says. “Can I release her?”
“Goodness, yes.”
Will says, “okay,” and Ollie crashes into me, tail wagging.
I pet her head while she sniffs my knees. “How’d you teach her to sit like that?”
Will squats down and pets Ollie, who leans over to swipe a lick up his neck. “She’s wicked smart.”
“Impressive.”
He glances up at me, his eyes turning serious. “I want you to feel comfortable here, Charlotte.”
The deep timbre of my full name on his tongue makes my chest tighten. Everyone has always called me Charlie, except for Will. He once told me why, but I resist reliving that moment. Will I ever stop feeling so fucking fragile around him?
“Thank you,” I manage.
Will stands. “Dinner’s ready, but if you need a minute?—”
I glance at the table. It’s not fancy, but he’s taken care to make it welcoming. Dread gnaws at the edges of my throat. For an instant, I thought this could be a casual thing. Just two people sharing a meal at the end of a long day, nothing more. Just as fast, my walls go back up.
“I’ll just put this away.” I lift my violin case.
I use the trip down the hall to settle the nerves jangling beneath my skin. When I get to my room, I set my violin upright in the closet. I’m turning away to visit the bathroom when I spot the cardboard box on my bed. Inside is a stack of distinctive padded envelopes and packages. On top is a torn piece of notebook paper with “PLEASE” scrawled in William’s handwriting.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and count to five but it doesn’t quiet the roar thickening in my throat.
So I hug the box and march it down the hall.
When I spin into the kitchen, William is setting a salad bowl on the table. He glances up, his eyes flashing with apprehension.
“I’m not doing this.” I drop the box to the couch. It bounces, sending several packages tumbling. Ollie trots over to investigate.
William rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just thought…”
“You thought wrong.”
“Fuck, Charlotte, would it kill you to help me out, just a little?”
I grimace because yeah, it might. “You bought the club, Will! Did it not occur to you that screening talent would be part of the job?”
“Of course I knew.”
“Listen to them yourself.”
He closes his eyes for an instant. When he opens them again, his gaze is earnest. “I can’t.”
I’m so caught up in releasing my pent-up frustration on him that it takes me a beat to parse the meaning behind his reply. He didn’t sayI don’t know how, oryou have a better ear…butI can’t.
“Why?”
A tense expression hardens the planes of his handsome face. “I…certain sounds…make it worse.”
