Page 18 of Begin Again
“Depends. Who’s asking?”
“I’m sorry to call, but we have Charlie here and there’s no way she can drive.”
Worry floods my veins. “Is she okay?”
“Oh yeah, she’s fine, just had a few too many.”
That worry turns into irritation. Are you kidding me? I thought she was on a date. Why isn’t that asshole bringing her home?
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Layne’s.”
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I say, slamming the phone back on the receiver. Layne’s is a local dive bar off Main Street. From what I understand, it’s the place to be. That’s not saying much when it’s one of only two bars in town and happens to be the one that attracts the younger crowd.
It takes me twenty-two minutes to pull into the bar’s parking lot and I immediately spot Charlie posted up against the wall by the doorwithouta coat on. What the fuck is she doing? It’s two degrees outside!
I jump out and walk over to where Charlie stands, her eyes glassy as she stares off in the distance. She practically jumps out of her skin when I touch her shoulder. Her skin feels like a solid block of ice under my fingertips, the mesh long-sleeve turtleneck doing nothing to fight off the cold. Her hazy stare meets mine before she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”
“We’re going home, Charlie. Let’s go.” I try to place my jacket over her exposed shoulders, but she shrugs out of my touch. “Charlie, please don’t fight me on this. I don’t feel like explaining to your dad that you froze to death outside a bar.”
“And why should I? You don’t care!” She takes a large step away from me, tripping over her feet when she stumbles off the sidewalk but catching herself on one of the cars nearby. “See, I don’t needyourhelp.”
“Charlie, for the love of God, please don’t do this right now. Let me take you home.”
“No! I don’t want you anywhere near me. You asshole. You…You…You…” I wait for her to finish the thought, but she can’t find the words. Instead, she groans and stomps toward my waiting truck, stumbling every few steps. Before I can turn to follow, the door to the bar opens and a guy dressed in all black peeks his head out.
He curses under his breath when he doesn’t see Charlie on the wall anymore. His eyes scan the lot before landing on me.“Hey! Have you seen a girl with reddish-brown hair? About yay-high. Wearing this black see-through-looking thing. Bit of a ’tude.” When he finishes describing the drunk woman I’ve been trying to wrangle, I point behind me to where she’s struggling to pull herself up into the passenger seat. “Oh, thank God. You’re the one I talked to on the phone?” He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks for coming to get her. Poor thing got stood up.”
Shit.That explains a lot.
“Thanks for calling,” I say, turning on my heel and jogging to the truck where she still struggles to get in. Planting my hands on her hips, I lift her easily into the seat. When I buckle her seatbelt, I try not to think about how close our faces are and how the sweet smell of her perfume fills my senses with each inhale. Clearing my throat, I lock the door and close it before I walk around to the driver’s seat.
We drive for ten minutes in silence before I hear a quiet sniffle from her side of the cab. When I glance over Charlie, she tries to hide that she’s wiping her eyes, but the smeared makeup gives it away. “Wanna talk about it?”
I can feel her gaze shift in my direction, but she doesn’t say anything. I turn to look at her, meeting her eyes for a brief second, before returning my gaze to the road. “I’m sorry, Charlie.”
“No, you’re not.” Her eyes move to look straight ahead.
“I am. I know you were excited about tonight. I’m sorry that it ended like this.” My hand grips the steering wheel, pissed off at the fucker who did this. Sure, we haven’t been getting along—had we ever truly gotten along?—but that doesn’t mean she deserves to be stood up. “You deserve better than this, Charlie.”
She scoffs. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“Charlie, look…What happened on Christmas—”
“Don’t,” she whispers, looking down at her hands folded on her lap. When I try to continue, she repeats herself, louder thistime. “I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry, Zay! I don’t…I don’t care. You’ve made it clear how you feel about me, and I’ve accepted that.”
“Charlie, I don’t knowhowI feel about you! I don’t even know who I am! How am I supposed to offer myself to you when I don’t even know my fucking name?” I look between her and the road so many times, I almost make myself dizzy. “I don’t know if someone is out there looking for me or if I’m alone in this world. I don’t know anything. And it’s not fair to you or me to even think about getting involved with you.”
My knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. I wish she’d get it through her thick head that the problem isn’t her. It’s me. It’s all me.
Silence envelopes us for the rest of the car ride through town and up the mountain to Blackwood Ranch. When the gate is illuminated in the headlights, Charlie lets her head fall back against the headrest and sighs.
A few minutes later, I park under the carport on the side of the farmhouse but don’t get out of the cab. Charlie doesn’t, either, instead turning her head to look at me, and there’s a deep sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Xavier. For being such a bitch to you.”
“You’re not a bitch. You’re just…stubborn.” That’s one way to put it.
Charlie laughs, biting down on her lip. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
