Page 19 of Begin Again
I reach over and squeeze her thigh. “Anytime, Char.”
She places her hand on top of mine, and the air becomes heavier than it was a moment ago. Charlie swallows before she moves my fingers up her thigh to the hemline of the black pleather skirt.
“Charlie,” I warn.
“Please,” she begs.
I shake my head, pulling my hand from under hers. “Not like this, Charlie.”
“I want this, Xavier! I want you.”
“Not like this. I’m not…I’m not ready for something like this and neither are you.” Maybe I’ll be able to give her what she wants one day but today is not that day. “Now, let’s go get you to bed.”
Charlie sighs but doesn’t fight me anymore. I make my way to join her on the other side, where she tries to step down from the cab but struggles in her heels. I wrap my arm around her waist, hoisting her from the seat and setting her feet firmly on the ground.
“You okay?” I ask, and she gives me a small smile in return. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s enough for now. “You’ll be okay, Charlie. I promise.” I nod, attempting to continue to convince her of the sentiment.
“Thank you, Zay.” She looks down at her feet. “Can we not tell my dad about this?”
“Might be a little hard to keep it a secret when you’re home but your truck isn’t.”
“Oh, right,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and guiding her toward the house.
The whole way inside, Charlie maintains a comfortable distance between us.
“Can you manage getting into bed without falling and hurting yourself?” I ask.
“I think so.” She smiles up at me before pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Thanks, Zay.” Without looking back, she enters her room and closes the door.
Less than a minute later, I’m back in my bedroom. I throw myself onto the bed, not caring that I still desperately need a shower. When my head hits the pillow, I can barely keep myeyes open, and the thoughts of Charlie are quickly replaced by the woman I’ve dreamed of almost every night since arriving in Bezer.
Her face is still trapped in the fog plaguing my mind, but I know there’s something important about her. I think she’s the key to figuring out who I am. This woman is one of the reasons I can’t give Charlie what she wants…I can’t offer myself to Charlie when I feel like I’ve already done so with this other woman.
There’s an ache in my chest when I think about her. A longing for something missing, and I know it’s her. But how do I explain that to Charlie? I can’t. She’d never understand. Hell, I don’t understand. And now I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.
CHAPTER NINE
NOW
A CRASH FROM DOWNSTAIRS brings an abrupt end to scribbling down the dream I just woke up from. It’s the same one I’ve had countless times since arriving in Bezer, but this time when I found the same woman outside the apartment building, she ran to me and kissed me. I’m careful to avoid the creaking spots of the old stairs in the farmhouse as I walk downstairs to investigate, but my defenses fail when I seewhois behind the disturbance.
Charlie rummages through the cabinets in the kitchen, muttering to herself about needing a snack, and something about Cooper.
“Looking for something?” I ask, and the sound of my voice sends her tumbling to the ground in those godforsaken heels. The same pair she wore the last time I had to pick her up from the bar on Valentine’s Day.
The next thirty minutes are a mixture of trying to get her upstairs to her room without waking up her dad and keeping as much distance between us as possible. She tends to get a little handsy when she’s drunk, especially the last few times. This will make three times I’ve come downstairs to find her stumbling around, and I can only hope we’re not going to make a habit out of it.
“Middle and bottom drawer,” Charlie calls from the bed when I attempt to find her pajamas. She stares at the ceiling the whole time, even when I drop a pair of sweats and an oversized T-shirt on the bed.
“Goodnight Charlie,” I say and leave without waiting for a response.
“Get any warmer out there?” Joseph asks from the stove when I walk into the kitchen the afternoon after Charlie’s late-night kitchen escapade. He stirs something in a pot, probably his “famous” stew, the perfect meal to fight the nip that lingers in the cold air outside. Tomorrow is the first of April. It should be warming up soon, but the forecast has been calling for cold weather through the next week.
“Still pretty chilly,” I say, lifting my ball cap and running my fingers over my scalp. My hair is longer than it has been for most of the last year. I’ve been thinking about letting it grow again. Who knows, maybe a change in appearance will help trigger something.
“Sure hope it breaks for the festival next weekend.” As my time here ticks by, Joseph has been telling me more and more about life in Bezer, including the Blossom Festival, one of Bezer’s proudest traditions. A yearly event on the first Saturday of April, the Blossom Festival celebrates the new year and the blossoming of new life that comes with the end of winter. The day is filled with live bands, a rodeo, a carnival, and localvendors. This year is the first time Charlie will be in the rodeo in over a decade. “I’d hate for you to miss it.”
