“Unique,” I repeated numbly, still unsure of his point.
“Bailey, you are, hands down, the most engaging person I’ve ever known.”
My heartbeat skittered in my chest as he spoke the words like he really had fallen for me. “Engaging?”
“Wholly.” His eyes burned into mine and he said, “When you’re in the room, every single cell in my body—every nerve, every muscle, every breath—is lost in you.”
My knees literally went weak, as in I felt like I was about to collapse.
A car honked, which made Charlie hiss out the word “Christ,” and I looked away from him and saw my Uber. The guy gestured with his hands like he didn’t have all night, so I dizzily—hazily, numbly—said, “That’s my Uber.”
“Can I call you later?” he asked, then muttered “shit” before his hands moved to the top of the jacket and his head jerked over onto his shoulder.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, watching as his head rested on his shoulder like it was holding a phone in place and his hands were plastered against his own chest. “What are you doing?”
As if to answer, Puffball’s tiny head popped out of the top of Charlie’s jacket.
“Puffball?” I said, looking at that adorable fluffy gray face and stepping away from the car door.
“I don’t want to be a dick,” the Uber driver said, “but I’m going to take another rider if you’re not going to get in.”
“Oh.”
“Let me drive you home,” Charlie said, holding the cat against him with one hand over his coat while scratching the little guy’s head with the other. “Please?”
The cat did it. I looked at that little furry baby, and then I leaned down and said to the driver, “I am so sorry.”
“Forget it—bye.”
I watched the Uber driver pull away before turning around toward Charlie. “Why do you have your cat?”
He looked down at his shoes, then just past my shoulder—anywhere but my face, it seemed—and then he said, “So how was the dance?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why were you hiding Puffball under your jacket?”
He made a frustrated sound, like a groan and a growl, mixed together in the back of his throat, and he said, “I just, uh, had an idea, and then I realized it was stupid but it was too late to take the cat back to the car.”
I don’t know why, but his absolute discomfort in whatever was going on made warmth bloom inside me. This vulnerable side of him was my favorite, even after everything. “Tell me what your stupid idea was—the honest truth.”
He held Puffball against his chest and petted his head for a second. Without looking at me he said, “I was going to give him to you.”
“What? But you love that cat.”
He sighed and finally summoned the courage to look at me, embarrassment in his eyes.
“Wait—did you think you could make me forgive you by giving me a cat?”
“No—it’s worse than that,” he said, looking back down at Puffball. “I wanted to show you that you can trust me to never disappear again. So I thought if I gave you my cat, it would be this big gesture because you know how much I love him. I figured it would prove that I’d be around because I’d want to see him every few days for, like, forever.”
I looked into his eyes and didn’t know what to say. My hands were shaking and there was a buzzing in my ears, because Charlie almost gave me his cat.
His cat that he adored. Was obsessed with.
“But on the way downtown, as I was practicing what I was going to say to you, I realized I couldn’t do that to Mr. Squishy.”
I nodded and my eyes felt a little scratchy, because that made sense.
Charlie would think of my cat’s feelings.
Charlie was a cynical jerk, but he was a cynical jerk who did things like save animals from trees and make pasta for my mom and drive drunk girls home and—
“Why did you cancel your Friday-night party?” I stepped a little closer to him, suddenly remembering what Eli had said and desperate for Charlie to confirm it. I felt ready to burst as I breathlessly asked, “It was supposed to be Friday, but you kicked out your friends and moved it to Saturday. Why?”
His eyes traveled all over my face, and I swear to God I could feel his gaze like a physical touch. He set his free hand on my cheek and just said, “I had to.”
I very nearly purred as I leaned into his palm. “Because…？”
He swallowed. “Because you needed me.”
Because you needed me.
“You actually canceled the party so you could come get me?” It was too much, too wonderful, and I was hungry for him to say it.
“Nothing else mattered,” he replied, setting his forehead on mine.
“I think we should kiss now,” I said, emboldened by his actions, by his willingness to just dump everything when I’d needed to be rescued.
“So smart,” he said, his voice a little growly as he lowered his mouth to mine. I felt breathless as Charlie kissed me, because this time, it felt absolutely real. Truly, madly, undeniably authentic. The shake in his breath, the tremble in my fingers, the thoroughness of his devouring kiss; it was perfection.
He pulled back and looked down at me, his eyes alight with that Charlie Sampson tease. “God, I love the Moldova.”
“You remembered.” I laughed, thinking back to Breckenridge.
“Of course I remembered,” he said, an earnestness creeping into his voice as his thumb swept over my cheek. “When I’m a hundred years old, I’ll still be able to picture you in that black dress with your bare feet and wild little smile.”
“And I thought you were just using me for kissing practice,” I teased, melting against him.
“So did I,” Charlie admitted, lowering his head until his lips hovered just above mine. “Until your Moldova special made me never want to kiss anyone else ever again.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO Charlie
As Bailey looked up at me with those gorgeous eyes that had the uncanny ability to see every single part of me, I felt fucking jittery. Like there was literally a damn tremble in my hands and I wanted to touch every inch of her, just to convince myself it was real.
That she was real.
It took losing her for me to realize that loving her wasn’t even a risk.
At all.
She might not love me back, she might love me for a while and then stop, but every minute that I had her was worth the fall that might （or perhaps might not） eventually come.
I still thought happily ever after was sketch as fuck, but why not lean into the incredible, fucking lucky gift of Bailey’s presence for as long as I could have it?
“What are you thinking?” she asked, her dark brows lowering. “Your face is weird right now.”
I rubbed a hand over Puffball’s head and felt happy. “I’m thinking that I’d like to take you out. Officially.”
“Where?” she asked, gnawing on the inside of her cheek so I wouldn’t know she was pleased.
I fucking loved her mind.
“Everywhere I’ve ever fantasized about kissing you,” I said, then realized that was a fucking amazing idea. “The Jumpoline, my car, your car, the airport, Zio’s—”