Page 4 of Hold Me Instead
Chapter 2
Zachary
Todaycouldfuckitselfin its warped asshole.
While it didn’t surprise him to find her here, recognizing Charlie Harris after all these years,sensingher, only irritated him more. He couldn’t determine what had clued him in while barely looking her way, but he felt the weight of her stare. It went more than skin-deep, and that was a firm no-entry zone for Zachary Lee.
“How you holdin’ up?” she asked.
His breath tripped as her soft voice slammed into him, knocking his thoughts into even more of a jumbled mess.
A whole year. That was the last time he’d heard his father’s voice, after Zachary had signed the divorce papers. Their brief conversation was a hollow memory—“Zachary. How you holdin’up?”
“Fine.”
“Good, here’s your mother.”
He scoffed. Maybe Charlie was more like his dad than he realized.
More so than him.
Zachary kept his gaze on a muddy streak across the tile. “Fine.” It came out gruff, his disdain echoing in the quiet. It emboldened him somehow, made him feel justified in his anger. What his anger was about at that moment, he wasn’t sure. But he gripped it like a lifeline.
The universe excelled at highlighting his shortcomings. After a punishing morning run failed to ease life’s bullshit, the jarring call about his father had only disoriented him further. He’d had enough wits about him to throw some shit in a bag and load up his old dog for a drive from Chicago that took twice the normal time—all to wind up in a stifling waiting room with the woman who represented his terrible life choices.
She slid her hands along her thighs, tapped her knees, and interrupted the silence once again. “Scary morning, huh? Must’ve been awful getting the news over the phone.”
He leaned back and grunted at Charlie’s gentle approach.
Unfortunately, the news about his father being rushed to the hospital came from an uncharacteristically harried voicemail, adding to the pall of everything. He’d pushed his sister to that tactic, he knew, by ignoring her earlier attempts to reach him, ultimately delaying himself from getting on the road. His grip had finally eased on the steering wheel once he got the update that his dad was stable and in recovery.
A sharp squeak on tile drew his attention as Charlie crossed her ankles, the bright purply pink tennis shoes a punctuation to his thoughts. He released a long breath, running his hands through his hair, squeezing the misted strands as though that would squash droplets of memories.
Charlie cleared her throat. “The nurse told me his room’s through those double doors out there? Jeanie called the office to let us know the surgery went well, but I haven’t heard many details.”
When his mom’s name fell from her lips, he finally gave Charlie more than a glance. The features of her face were sharper, matured over their years apart, yet still soft. Her nose and round cheeks were red against her fair skin, no doubt from the chilly autumn rain. She wore little makeup,a trait he remembered about her, though something brightened her eyes, staring from her wide tortoiseshell glasses. She remained still, as though she was holding her breath. A surge of remorse coursed through him at her obvious discomfort, then amplified when he noticed her Halloween scrubs and cat ears. Leave it to Charlie to be festive at the clinic.Damn her and her charming sense of humor.
No,he corrected himself,goofy.Not charming.
Not that the distinction made much difference where she was concerned.
“Halloween’s not for another week,” he said.
Her nod was slow, uncertain. At least she was breathing and blinking now.
“You wore that today?” he asked—accused.
She perched on the edge of her seat, ready to bolt. “Yee-es,” she said, lengthening the word into two syllables.
Her eyes darted over him, studying, while he studied her.
Damp wisps of brown hair clung to her face, and small flyaways dried haphazardly, creating a wild nest for the cat ears on her head. The frizz had always bothered her, he recalled, humid Wisconsin summers making the carefree tendrils regularly present.
The comfort their presence brought him made him instantlyuncomfortable.
He cleared his throat. “Not very professional, dressing in costume for work.”There,regained control.
Her eyes narrowed for the briefest moment. “It’s just a headband. Besides, nothing wrong with being a little playful on the job.” She followed up her response with a too-serene smile. It was a far cry from her normal beam that sparked energy into a room.
