Page 46 of For All It's Worth
Chapter Eighteen
Charlie
Overthefollowingweek,Max and I danced around this new awareness of our feelings.
I was glad that I’d spoken up, although I’d been terrified that I’d hurt Max. For all his bluster and bravado, he was sensitive. He didn’t allow people in often so they couldn’t hurt him.
It was important to me that we started off well, and my head had been spinning from everything that had been happening.
The apartment offer, Mom’s reaction to me leaving and settling into a new place with my sort of friend/boss was a lot to deal with before adding a new, probably serious relationship into the mix.
Max was going to be the most serious and important relationship I ever had. He was endgame for me. If I believed in marriage as an institution, then he would be my future husband. Hell, if he wanted to get married, despite my feelings on it, then that was what we would do. Anything for him.
The afternoon after moving, I’d gone back to my mom’s house to explain that I’d moved and she had cried. It broke my heart to hurt her and I tried to explain the damage that living in such close proximity was causing to our relationship.
We ended up talking for a long time and I hoped that it had done a lot to clear the air. I’d sent Evan a message explaining the situation and he’d offered to set up an appointment with me and Mom so we could work it through together, with professional supervision. When I floated the idea to Mom, she’d agreed, which I took to be progress.
She even came back to my new place to meet Henry and see where I would be living. I took her around the neighborhood, pointing out Farmer’s Fitness and even Books & Biscuits when we wandered that far. We had to stop and have a drink and wait for the car to collect us since Mom had worn the wrong shoes for so much walking, and ended up with a blister. Heather was on shift as a supervisor in the bookstore. I’d introduced her to Mom and she had given Mom a bandaid. They seemed to hit it off and they chatted as we waited. I left them to it and jumped up to make up orders when needed.
By the time we’d finished dinner back at my apartment, with Henry joining us, I felt like Mom and I were in a better place. Just having that off my shoulders made everything feel so much better.
I went alone to pick up my stolen watch and hadn’t mentioned it to Mom even though the thought of it weighed on my mind. I was grateful to have something so important to me returned, but I felt humiliated over the way that the officer had spoken to me in front of Max. I hated that the police didn’t care about what had happened to me. Being drunk wasn’t a free pass to be mugged. It made me wonder what would have happened if I’d died. Would they have left me in a morgue for days as a John Doe before impassively telling my family how I’d died?
Realizing that the watch was a trigger, or at least my complicated feelings attached to it were a catalyst, I called to get an appointment with Evan after I picked it up.
I walked into Evan’s office later that day with the metal band strapped to my wrist, the once familiar weight feeling so foreign after all these months. I sat pondering my feelings as I ran my fingers over it and tried to work out how I felt.
“Charlie?” came Evan’s voice. I must have stopped talking after a while and he’d let me sit and stew.
“I’m okay. Really, I am. It’s just it’s been a big week, with the move and things with Max.”
Evan looked like he wanted to ask, but kept quiet.
“We’ve both got feelings for each other, but my head is spinning with everything. So I asked him to let things just develop naturally. I just needed the breathing room with everything going on.”
“I have to say that it shows a lot of growth,” Evan said evenly, “to know that you are reaching a limit and to ask for that space to process. This is a real improvement and you should be proud. How did Max take it?”
“He understood, actually.”
“Good, that’s really good. Are you feeling okay about the watch now that you’ve had the opportunity to discuss it?”
“I am, yeah. Sorry, I just needed to get it out. I’m grateful to have it back. It’s the one thing that is just mine from my father. The one time he said he was proud of me, so I guess it’s a symbol of that feeling. I just wish that the police wanted to catch the people that hurt me.”
Evan sympathized with me, but ultimately there was nothing that could be done and I had to let it go. It had happened and my life had changed because of it. I could either dwell on it or be grateful something good had come of the whole experience.
After all, nearly dying had probably saved my life.
Over the next few days, I settled into the apartment. Henry was easy to live with and was so busy that I didn’t see him all that much. His need for order was similar to Max and so I adapted to that easily. The familiar ways they lived often had me smiling but it helped me relax.
I’d worried that things between Max and I would be strained with me asking him to wait, but if anything, the conversation had helped. Perhaps it was just admitting that there was something there, acknowledging that it was a mutual feeling, that had us relaxing into what was happening.
Over the course of the week after, we carried on as normal, or a new normal. We touched often, sharing secret smiles, and I’d noticed the other staff and some of the customers at Books & Biscuits watching us a lot.
We spent more time together outside of work too, with Max coming over to my apartment a lot since it was closer to the shop. We hung out, watching movies and cuddling but taking it no further.
Each night after he left, I’d find myself jerking off to the memory of him up against me in the car. The heat of his perfect body, all lean lines pressed against me as he leaned in, the near kiss that we missed and I still ached for. The times I’d spent looking at his mouth, imagining him swallowing down my dick.
Spending so much time with him was torture and it was clear he wanted me to know he just needed a green light. He would sit against me, cuddling in close, while we watched T.V. Often looking up at me with those pale blue eyes, biting his lip. We’d hold hands, or he’d stroke my arm affectionately. He’d say goodnight with a kiss on the cheek, so close to the corner of my mouth that it was a whisper away from where we both wanted it. Just one tease after another.
It was then that I wondered why I was teasing him, and myself, by dragging it out. It was clear that we both wanted more, and everything else had settled down, so I was out of excuses.
It was time to go after what we both clearly wanted.
