Chapter Ten

Owen

Maybe I should get a cat.

Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me? I shift in the chair, trying to get comfortable. I fell asleep watching reruns of The Office and my dream was about Charlie.

Again.

It’s been a week since I’ve seen her, and it’s not for lack of looking. Eastwood seems like a small town until you try to find someone amongst all the residents…and corn fields…and cows.

I want to fuck her. Feel her pert nipples against the rough palms of my hands as I cup her supple breasts. I want to push my cock into her tight little pussy and feel it contract around me as she comes.

That’s all. Fuck her, and forget about her.

Which is what I should have done tonight. Well, not fuck Charlie. But someone else. I could have, and even got two numbers handed right to me at the bar tonight. Yet those women weren’t doing it for me.

Were they pretty? Yeah.

Would they have been a good time? Yeah.

But were they Charlie? Hell no.

I think it’s time I admit it to myself. After years of denying it, years of pretending it didn’t matter because I liked hooking up with a different girl every night…I think it’s time to—nope.

Not doing it. Not sober, at least. Stretching my arms out in front of me, I get up with a yawn and go into the kitchen, flicking the light on above the sink. I rub my eyes, stare at the dirty dishes on the counter, and then go to the fridge to get a beer.

It’s way too late—or too early, depending on how you look at it—to be drinking, but I have nowhere to go tomorrow and know there’s no way I’ll fall back asleep unless I have something to dull the pain.

Because that’s exactly what I’m feeling: pain.

I fucked up. I’ve missed Charlie all these years and I’ve lived with repressed regret. I broke up with her because I wasn’t what she needed, and I wanted her to go find her own happiness. But I’m not the same guy, not at all.

Bringing my beer to my lips, I chug a few mouthfuls and then set the bottle on the counter. I have to show her I’ve changed. Give her a reason to take another chance on me. Because no one can love her like I can.

No one will please her like I have.

I want nothing else but to make her happy.

I turn on the sink and grab a rag, washing the dishes that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher. I suck down the rest of my beer and go upstairs to shower and brush my teeth. Naked, I pass out in bed.

No surprise, I dream about Charlie.

*

“What aren’t you telling me?” I narrow my eyes at my twin, able to sense that he’s withholding something secret.

Logan smiles, looks out at the bar, and motions for me to join him in the office. He’s sitting at the computer and has been working on the schedule for the next few weeks.

“Danielle’s pregnant.”

“Shit, congrats!” I clap him on the back. “Your boys can swim!”

He laughs. “We already knew that, jackass. Don’t tell anyone yet. Danielle wants to wait until she gets her first ultrasound, ya know, since the last one didn’t stick.”

“Your secret is safe with me. And this one is it. I have a good feeling about it.”

His smile grows. “I hope so. It was really hard on her—and Mom—last time.”

Danielle had an early miscarriage only a few months ago, which we were told was totally normal, yet still devastating for everyone.

“When does she go into the doctor?”

“Next week. She thinks she’s already six and a half weeks so we’re past where we got last time.”

“You’re gonna give me another nephew, I can feel it.”

Logan laughs. “I’d love a son. Fuck, that’s weird to say.”

“Don’t start the dad-jokes just yet.”

“I’ll try my best.”

It’s Friday evening, and Getaway is busy as usual. I’m in a good mood, happy for Logan and Danielle. It’s the first time since seeing Charlie over a week ago that I felt this good. The night is going by fast…until she walks in.

I don’t know what makes me look up, but I do the moment she steps through the doors. Her hair billows around her face and it’s like everything moves in slow motion, including my heart.

Charlie steps into the bar and stops, looking around. She’s alone but isn’t uncomfortable. It’s easy to forget she’s a lawyer, that she’s ruthless when she has to be and isn’t afraid to find her own voice. She’s wearing a black top and tight jeans and looks so fucking good. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a bun on the top of her head, and her red lipstick is making me want to kiss those lips.

She catches my eye and gives a small smile as she makes her way over to the bar

“Miss me?” I reach under the bar for a wine glass.

“Keep dreaming,” she says, and I wonder if she’s able to read my mind. I have been dreaming about her.

I turn and go to the mini fridge, getting out a bottle of sweet red wine. I fill up her glass and slide it over. She takes it but looks at the liquid as if there’s poison inside.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Can’t a girl come get a drink?” She brings the wine glass to her lips. I swallow hard, talking down my cock. God, this woman is gorgeous.

“Of course she can. But why come here of all places?”

She takes a big drink of wine. “There aren’t any other places to go after ten PM here.” Setting the glass back on the bar, she looks around. “This place is nice.”

“You sound surprised again. Are your expectations that low?”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Do you want me to answer that?”

I roll my eyes and shift my attention to another female customer who comes up to the bar, tits popping out of her top. She makes a point to lean over and show them off, making me think she just got them done and wants everyone to notice. The surgeon did a fantastic job, but even Ms. Designer Tits falls short next to Charlie.

My Charlie.

“Really, though,” she starts, taking her eyes from me to the woman next to her. “I just need some quiet.”

“You came to the wrong place, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she shoots back.

“What, will you sue me?”

“I would love to.”

I round on her, leaning against the bar. “And I’d love to see you in a tight skirt and button-up blouse. Oh, wait. I have. Remember when you used to play sexy librarian with me? I had overdue books all the time.”

“Shut your mouth,” she snaps and picks up the wine, downing the rest. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Wait,” I say, putting my hand over hers before she walks away. “Stay. You obviously came here for a reason.”

Logan, able to sense what’s going on, I’m sure, comes up behind me.

“Hey, Charlie,” he says, all smiley and happy. Right. Charlie doesn’t drive everyone crazy. Just me.

“Hey, Logan,” she replies with a smile just as big. “I heard you got married. Congrats.”

“Thanks. I’m a lucky guy. Danielle is everything I could ever want.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Logan refills her wine glass. “And I’m sorry to hear about, uh, what happened.”

Charlie watches the wine fill her glass. “Thanks. It’s all for the best though, right? Gotta find that silver lining.”

“Right.” Logan steps to the side, handling Ms. Designer Tits, who’s now freaking out a bit that Logan and I are identical twins. It happens all the time, and usually I use it to my advantage.

“You said you want quiet,” I go on, studying Charlie’s pretty face. “Everything okay on the home front?”

She takes another sip of wine. “Oh, it’s fine. Just…busy.”

“Busy?”

“My sister’s house sold in record time and the buyer wanted to close as soon as possible. Which meant my sister and her family needed somewhere to stay until their new house is built.”

“Which will be a few months at best.”

“Exactly.” She takes another sip of wine. “So right now it’s me, my sister, her husband, her three children, their dogs, and my cat all crammed in with my parents. I have a deposit down on an apartment, but it won’t be open until the end of next month.” She brings her fingers to her temple. “It’s a first world problem, I know. But my God, I’ve never hated my sister so much as I do right now.”

I laugh. “It’s rough being crammed together like that. There’s nowhere else for you to go?”

She slowly shakes her head. “The three rental properties available were not cutting it. But it’s fine…I just need to tough it out for another month.” She drains the rest of the wine.

Charlie is in a weird situation. She’s smart, probably has a decent amount of money in the bank. I have no idea what she’s doing for work right now, but if she wanted to get another city job, I’m sure she would. Taking over her father’s firm was always her plan…maybe that’s why she’s sticking around town. Her father has to be getting close to retiring.

The rentals in Eastwood are shit. They were back when I graduated from college and didn’t want to live at home anymore, and they still are today. The only apartment complex here is decent enough but isn’t very large and I’m not surprised to hear it’s full.

“You could come stay with me,” I offer before I get a chance to fully think about it. “We both know my house is more than big enough.”

Charlie looks at me, blinking. “No fucking way, Owen,” she laughs. “I am not living with you.”

“Why?” I rest my elbows on the bar. “What are you afraid of? That you’d get in behind closed doors and wouldn’t be able to resist me?”

“Oh yeah, that’s my main worry.” She rolls her eyes.

“What is your main worry then?”

“That I’ll get arrested for murder because living with you would be worse than living with my entire extended family.”

“Ouch, that was harsh.”

“Fine, I wouldn’t kill you. Just do major bodily harm.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “That sounds like something I might enjoy.”

“You are impossible,” she sighs. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

I shrug. “Why not, though? I have the space. Ever since Logan moved out, the house has seemed kinda empty anyway. Don’t tell him, but I miss Dexter, his dog, more than him.”

Charlie’s eyes start to narrow as she looks at me. “I’m not stupid, Owen.”

“I never thought you were. Not ever once.”

Her hard glare softens. “I…I know. But…no. I’m not moving in with you.”

“Don’t think of it as moving in, more as me swooping in and coming to the rescue. You can crash at my place until the apartment is ready for you. No strings, no expectations. Though we both know you’ll be crawling into my bed at night.”

“Seriously?”

My tongue darts out, wetting my lips. Charlie’s eyes flick down to it, and she pushes her shoulders back in a subconscious way to try to make it seem like she’s holding it all together.

And maybe she really is. Or maybe…maybe she’s feeling what I’m feeling too. It’s a long shot, but fuck, I want to take it.

“The offer is on the table,” I tell her and step away for a minute to take care of a few other customers. In the minute I’m gone, she somehow slips away and is nowhere to be seen.

Then it hits me, and I wonder what the hell was I thinking? Asking Charlie to live with me? To sleep in the room next to me. Eat breakfast by my side. Watch late night TV together like we’re friends.

I will never be just friends with Charlie, and having her so close yet so far would hurt.

Not being able to touch her. Not hold her. Not tell her how I feel and rub her back until she falls asleep. Not being able to bring her coffee in the morning.

It would kill me. Then again, when I think back to these last few years without Charlie, I don’t know how alive I’ve really been. Maybe…maybe I’m already dead. I haven’t been living, just surviving.

And she’s the only one who can revive my non-beating heart.