chapter forty-eight
■ ■ ■
CHARLIE
My keys make a loud noise as they drop onto the dresser beside the door. My apron and purse follow, and then I kick off my shoes. It’s my new nightly ritual. Next is a shower, to wash the greasy diner smell out of my hair. I never bother turning on the lamp because the fluorescent bulbs cast such harsh lighting and, besides, there’s enough light shining into the window from the street.
I don’t know how I missed him sitting on my bed.
“You just can’t sleep without these fancy sheets, can you?”
I yelp out in surprise as I jump back, my back slamming into the wall. “How did you get in here?” I can barely hear my own voice, my blood rushing into my ears.
He stands and I instinctively take a step forward, toward that beautiful man who was mine for a short period of time, until reality caught up with me. But my feet stall, the truth of what I’ve done to him making me wonder if I should steel myself to defend against an emotional attack.
One that I deserve.
My breaths grow shallow with the rising panic.
Is he here to tell me that he hates me? That the cops will be here in minutes to arrest me?
Cain doesn’t stop. He keeps moving closer and closer, until his overpowering body makes my knees weak and his stunning face makes me lean in.
And those dark brown eyes make me burst into tears.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me against his chest without hesitation, his defined arms wrapping me tight. “You know that I’m resourceful,” I somehow hear him say over my sobs. He releases a deep sigh and I sense the tension in his body slide out. “God, Charlie, you’ve put me through hell.”
“I’m sorry.” I start crying harder with his words. “I didn’t have a choice. It was—”
“I know.” He eases his grip on me and takes a step back, tilting my head back with a hand on my chin. His fingers start smoothing away my tears. If he knew how many tears I’ve cried for him . . . “I know everything.”
Swallowing the enormous lump in my throat, I echo, “Everything?”
With a sad smile, his eyes dip down to my mouth. “I know how your stepfather took advantage of you. I know what happened at that last drop.”
I shudder with the memory of that gun against my temple.
“And I’m guessing you didn’t tell me because you were trying to protect me.” He pauses. “You saw the news, right?”
“Yes.” I close my eyes, the smell of his cologne as soothing as it is intoxicating.
“You know that you’re safe now, right?”
I stare up into those eyes that I thought I’d never see again. “Am I?”
Cain’s furtive nod makes me believe him. “Dan’s not going to say a word.” His brow furrows deeply. “Is that the only reason you didn’t come home?”
Home. “I didn’t know if you wanted me there,” I admit through a hard swallow. “I only called because I wanted to make sure Sam hadn’t found you.”
His arms seal me against his body once again—strong, protective arms that feel like they may never let me go again. I hope they never do. And he lets me cry against him without a word.
Until a strange thing happens. My tears begin to morph from sadness to relief to complete and utter joy, interspersed with little giggles.
As I realize that it’s finally over.
Cain knows what I’ve done and he’s here. And, I think, forgiving me.
It’s finally, truly over.
“Your hair smells like French fries,” Cain murmurs, and I feel his lips touch the top of my head.
“Sorry. I was just about to get into the shower.”
“Really . . .” I catch the playfulness in his tone and my knees automatically buckle. I want nothing more right now. But, wait. I pull away, though I’m unwilling to release my grip around his ribs. “Cain. What about . . .” I exhale deeply. “Do you know that I used a fake ID?”
He studies me for a moment, as if deciding what he wants to say. And then that lip curls up. “You certainly have more talents than any eighteen-year-old I’ve ever met, though your dietary choices should have been a dead giveaway.”
I duck my head slightly. “Are you okay with that?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’ll survive.” The backs of his fingers graze my cheek and I instinctively turn to catch them with my lips. “Besides, I never did live out my twenties like a normal person.” Dipping down, Cain’s lips brush mine as he whispers, “Maybe we can do it together.” And then there’s no more talking, as Cain claims my mouth as if no time has passed.
As if it belongs to him and him alone.
And it does. I should have known, from that very first kiss, I had fallen into another trap.
The difference is that this trap is one I have no desire to escape from. Ever.
“But . . .” He pulls back slightly and my mouth instantly feels cold. “I’m in love with a woman and I don’t even know what name to call her by.”
My breath hitches. Did I just hear that right? Pressing my fingers into his lean muscles, I take a moment to compose myself before I burst into tears. Again. “I mean, when Dan showed me a copy of your real ID . . .” His voice trails off as his eyes widen in exaggerated shock. What went through his head when he found out, I wonder. Did he immediately see it as I did? Fate playing its own strange little game?
He’s watching, waiting.
“I think I’ll always see myself as Charlie with you, but . . .” I begin, my fingertips tracing the ink on the side of his neck. So coincidental.
Or maybe not at all.
“. . . I’ll also answer to Penny.”