Page 53 of Stay With Me

Trina lets out a guffaw and a cute giggle escapes from Emily.

“Well, what are we, Charlie? Savages? Just because you two are completely inept in a kitchen doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer.” Emily’s light teasing tone is just what it seems Trina needs to ease away the last thread of her earlier agitation that’s been clinging to her.

When we get to the door, we knock and walk in, the gathering already in full swing. We make our rounds, greeting our friends, and I look around and note that Janie, Annie’s best friend and a nurse from First City ER is here, Alex Reynolds, a fellow firefighter on shift with Jack and me is here with his twin girls, Shayna and her son, Tommy, Jack and Shayna’s little sister, Shyley and her husband, Lincoln are here as well. A few minutes after we arrive, Ben shows up and I swear I hear Trina huff. That’s not surprising. Anyone in our friend group with eyes knows Trina is not a fan of Ben Donley.

We spend the next few hours eating, watching the game, and I play with Annie and Jack’s dogs. Both dogs are great, and their shepherd mix Gracie is so damn smart. But their lab, Bean, what a pup he is—so playful and affectionate. I’ve wanted a Labrador retriever for years, but my work schedule prohibits me from being able to get a dog. It’s not like I could leave a dog home alone while I work a twenty-four-hour shift. So, I’ll just have to wait until retirement to make that dream happen. In the meantime, I’ll have to get my dog fix from visiting my friends’ four-legged family members. Well, that and stalking the puppy pics on the website for the breeder Annie got Bean from, since, in a moment of weakness, I asked her for the information.

As I sit on the floor petting Bean, I look around at our friends all gathered here. Warmth fills me when it strikes me that these are my people, my chosen family. I love my mom and refrain from beating the shit out of my dad, for her sake, but these people here, the camaraderie and connection we all have is unparalleled. And I’m immensely grateful for them.

CHAPTER21

EMILY

It’s the morning after Annie and Jack’s get together and Charlie and I plan to tackle the painting at my townhouse. He said he’d be here early, but I didn’t realize that meant before nine a.m.—it is a Saturday, after all. But, at seven a.m., my doorbell rings. I’m awake—barely—but I’m still in bed.

Shit, he can’t really be here already, right?

I jump out of bed and look down at my attire—an old T-shirt and sleep shorts. Still, I don’t want to keep him waiting, so I grab my short fleece robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door, throw it on, and race down the stairs.

“Coming,” I yell when I hit the bottom step.

When I get to the door, I flip the deadbolt and grasp the handle, swinging the door open.

“Hi Charlie,” I say, breathless. I lean against the edge of the door trying to look casual. I step back, and he enters then sets down two large bags and removes his coat before turning to face me.

“Hi.” He looks me up and down then lifts a questioning eyebrow and tries to hold back a grin. “Did I wake you?”

I can sense heat filling my cheeks. “What? No, of course not. I’ve been up for… for a bit. I just have to toss on my painting clothes.” I’m careful to keep my distance so he doesn’t smell my morning breath.

“Okay. Whatever you say. How about you go do whatever it is you need to do, and I’ll make a pot of coffee? I could use another cup.” Charlie is openly smiling now. Geez, how does he look so damn handsome at this ungodly hour, in ratty paint spotted sweatpants and an old Elladine Fire Department T-shirt with a tear in just the perfect spot to give me a view of his defined abs?

“Oh, that would be amazing.” I shut the door and turn the lock. “I’ll be down in just a few minutes.”

Charlie only chuckles and says, “Take your time.” Then I watch as he heads toward my kitchen, before I make my way back upstairs.

The first thing I do when I get back to my bedroom is rush to the ensuite bathroom. I was in such a hurry to answer the door that I didn’t stop to pee first, and my bladder is screaming. After I’ve peed, I sigh and walk to the sink to wash my hands. As I’m scrubbing my fingers together—because every kindergarten teacher knows the importance of getting the germs between the fingers—I glance up at the mirror and my shoulders sag. I close my eyes and toss my head back.

“Oh my God,” I mutter to myself. “Really, Universe? Really? Can you not cut me any slack after the year I’ve had?”

I open my eyes, straighten my head, and rinse then dry my hands before facing the disaster I just saw in the mirror.

No matter how well I think I’ve taken off my makeup each night, I still end up with black smudges under my eyes every morning. Today, they’re so bad it looks like I didn’t even bother trying to remove my mascara before I went to bed. And my hair lies flattened to my head in a knotty mess on the left and sticks up wildly on the right. The icing on the cake, though, is the two-inch line of dried drool trailing from the left side of my mouth to my chin.

I sigh, grab my toothbrush and slide some toothpaste on it, then begin the process of making myself feel—and look—like a human being again. Impressively, it only takes me about ten minutes to brush my teeth, wash my face, tame my hair, and dress in some old clothes I won’t mind if I get a little paint on.

When I get downstairs, I find Charlie about to pour half-and-half into one of the coffee mugs. He notices me and smiles.

“Do you still take your coffee with no sugar but heavy on the half-and-half?” he asks.

“Yes, please and thank you. God, it smells delicious.”

“It sure does. Do you want to have it in the dining room?” When I nod, he picks up both mugs and I expect him to hand one to me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he carries both to the dining room table and sets them down.

“Wow, I could get used to this treatment,” I tease.

“Well, you should. You deserve it. Don’t settle for anything less than what you deserve, Em.”

Perhaps realizing that the vibe feels more serious than he intended, Charlie clears his throat.

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