All the time.
I guess I’d already noticed it whenever he talked about his relationship with his parents, but suddenly it was clear that it was his go-to move in any situation.
Of course, if I told him that, he’d probably mess up my hair and mock me for trying to be Freud, but, God—it was textbook.
And now that I’d seen it, it was all I could see.
Which is the only way to explain why I smiled up at the new boyfriend and said, “I’m Bailey, by the way. Charlie’s… friend…？”
I looked at Charlie, my head tilted just a little, as if sharing an inside joke about whether or not I could be called his friend. His dark eyes moved over my face for a split second, and then he got it, his mouth sliding into a slow, flirty grin that actually made my stomach do a little dip.
Holy shit, Charlie could be sexy when he wanted.
It was something about the squint of his eyes, the way he looked at me lazily, mischievously, almost as if he wanted to steal me away for multiple uninterrupted hours.
Ahem—wow.
I brushed away that unwelcome awareness because the bigger thing was that his eyes were alive again. I don’t know why I hated seeing him unhappy so much, but for some reason, I did.
“I’m Kyle and this is Becca,” the guy said, and I smiled and nodded and tried my best not to stare at her.
But it was impossible.
Because I was trying to reconcile her with Charlie. More so, I was trying to reconcile the idea of someone who Charlie liked enough to have a hard time getting over.
Because he might’ve brought me along under the guise of appearances, but I wasn’t an idiot; this was all about her. Charlie was one of those rare people who genuinely didn’t give a shit about what people thought of him, so the fact that she made him care mattered.
“You just missed ‘All Too Well,’？” I said, trying to play the part of a laid-back party girl, when in reality I hated chatting with strangers because I was awkward as hell.
“Oh, we caught the end of it,” Becca said, talking to me even though her big blue eyes kept bouncing between Charlie and me. “You didn’t phone-a-Charlie?”
That made her and Charlie share a smile, and there was something about it that I did not like. Memories were being shared in that gaze, recollections of interwoven moments, and my stomach knotted as I witnessed the fleeting second of something.
I don’t know why, but I really hated that something.
It probably had to do with the fact that, against my better judgment, I didn’t like the thought of him being sad.
Surely that was it.
“Bay’s too stubborn to ask for help,” Charlie said, and then he kind of leaned into me. Like, technically it was just a shoulder-nudge, a bump, but it spoke of an intimacy that Charlie and I did not have in real life. “I believe her exact words were that she’d rather sing on a table than let me be right.”
That caught me off guard, and I laughed, surprised he remembered what I’d said. I shrugged, and I don’t know what came over me, maybe it was this bizarre need to protect him from emotional scars, but I snaked my arms around his left biceps and squeezed.
Yes, I gave him an arm hug as I said, “I stand by my decision.”
Charlie looked at me, the tiniest crinkle between his eyebrows the only sign of surprise, and then he said, “Hold up, you have an eyelash.”
My breath stilled as his face moved marginally closer and his free hand came up and softly touched my cheek. It was only a split second, but it felt like a freeze-frame as our eyes met and held.
What is happening? I took a deep breath and felt a little unsettled, my heartbeat skittering in my chest as his gaze swept over me from point-blank range. Brown eyes held me like a spell, a hex that rendered me incapable of looking away as his jaw flexed and unflexed.
But then, as if a switch were flipped, the freeze-frame ended. The noise of the party returned, Charlie straightened, and we were back to chatting with his former girlfriend and her new man.
Only, instead of dropping his hand, he let it come down to rest on my thigh.
And not passively, but almost in a grab, with his thumb and forefinger applying the slightest pressure.
I looked down at his long fingers and wondered why my stomach was going wild with butterflies. Why was the sight of Charlie’s hand on me causing utter chaos to my insides?
What. The. Hell?
Realizing that I was looking down at his hand, I quickly brought my gaze back to his face. Charlie was giving me a totally normal smart-ass grin, and I realized that I’d been getting a little caught up in the fake game.
It’s Charlie, you idiot.
Only, I could still feel his fingers on my thigh.
Ahem.
Becca looked directly at Charlie’s hand, then raised her eyes and said, “Do you know where Brittany is? She was bringing our beer.”
“In the kitchen when we got here,” he said, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes seemed to drink her in when he looked at her. Did he have any idea how much of his heart was in his gaze when he looked at her?
And why did I find it a little annoying?
“Britt,” she yelled, grabbing her boyfriend’s arm as she headed for the kitchen. “Where you at?”
As they walked away, I let go of Charlie’s arm and did anything but look at him. I wasn’t sure how to deal with whatever strange things had been afoot between us. I knew that I’d just gotten a little caught up in our game of pretend, but would he know that’s all it was?
“Glasses.”
“Hmm?” I said, trying to look casual as I raised my eyebrows as if interested in what he was going to say. “What?”
When I dared to meet his eyes, he was giving me a funny look. It was… sincere, maybe? He let go of my thigh, cleared his throat, and said, “You went above and beyond. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
* * *
“Come on, Clio,” Charlie said, following Clio out the front door. I shut it behind us as he tried to get her to listen to him. “Be a good girl.”
“I’m fine,” she said—well, yelled, smiling as she stepped off the porch and into the front yard.
“Nope.” Charlie jumped off the porch and landed in front of her. He bent his knees, so his face was at her level （he was like a foot taller than her）， and he said, “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight if I let one of my favorite humans get behind the wheel when she’s clearly buzzed. Please let me drive you, because I need my fucking beauty sleep.”
The way she beamed at him made me smile, because what else was there to do?
The jerk from the airport was ridiculously charming.
Actually—that wasn’t it.
It wasn’t charm that was melting Clio and me, it was kindness. The jerk from the airport clearly cared about his friend and was committed to taking care of her.
Dear God, it was almost too nice, like sunshine on a spring day. So completely wonderful that you want to stare and soak it up, but that only results in burned corneas and impaired vision.
We got Clio loaded into the back seat, and when we were buckling our seat belts and he started the car, Charlie said, “By the way. My friend Eli asked me if he can ask you out.”
What? I knew to be cool and act like I’d been there before, but what I really wanted to do was say Are you sure? and Did he get me confused with someone else?