He turns and climbs on top of me and I wrap my arms around him.
“What the fuck was that?” he asks, as I run my fingers through his curls.
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I liked it. A lot. Apparently I have a toe kink.”
“Apparently we both do.” He chuckles.
* * *
That night, Charlie wakes up to another nightmare. It takes me so long to wake him, and he’s so beside himself, trembling and tears streaking his cheeks, that I’m crying while I hold him. I keep telling him to breathe in and out because he’s having a panic attack, and his arms are wrapped around me so tightly I can barely breathe.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I hold him close and rock him, my cheek pressed to his head. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I tell him. “You deserved so much better. They failed you, Charlie. It was their job to love you, and they didn’t. I’m so sorry. You are exquisite, just the way you are, and there is nothing about you that needs to change, or isn’t good enough.”
“I had to leave,” he sobs. “I couldn’t stay. They hurt me. I couldn’t stay.” He shakes his head furiously, his curls slapping me in the face.
“Shh, I know,” I tell him. “I know. You’re safe, Charlie. It’s okay. I will never hurt you.”
He cries himself to sleep in my arms and I don’t let go for the rest of the night.
* * *
The following week is my monthly get together with Rachel. Charlie’s staying at home. I don’t think it’s time for them to meet, but I’d like to talk to her about bringing him to the wedding.
I let out a deep breath when I see her through the window of our regular restaurant. Her hair is down today and falling over her shoulders. She wears a light gray jacket over a green sweater, and jeans. Silver earrings dangle from her ears. I see her fiancé, Colin, get up from across the booth and kiss her, then walk away.
“Hey,” I say, once I reach her. She stands and presses a kiss to my cheek, smiling at me.
“It’s good to see you.” She holds my hands, her eyes studying me. “You look different,” she says. “Happier.”
I can’t help my smile.
She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “Did you meet someone?” Her eyes go wide and her face lights up. She wraps her arms around me in a hug before I can even answer. “Tell me everything.” She sits down and gestures for me to do the same, her elbows resting on the table. She leans forward in anticipation. “What’s her name? Where did you guys meet? And when do I get to meet her?” Her smile is endless but I shake my head.
“Listen, it’s not what you think.” I look at her and she frowns. “I wanted to talk to you about something else. You remember I was telling you last month about the young man I was trying to help?”
She raises her eyebrow. “The homeless kid?”
I nod, my skin prickling. For some reason it unsettles me to hear someone refer to Charlie that way. Like he’s nothing more than a piece of street trash. Like being homeless defines him. I know she doesn’t mean it like that, but it ruffles my feathers nonetheless. “His name is Charlie,” I tell her. “And he’s been living with me for the last month.” Her eyes widen. She sets her coffee down and stares at me.
“How’s that going?”
“Good,” I say, a smile on my face. I can’t help it, talking about Charlie. “Actually, I was wondering if I could bring him to the wedding.”
She blinks.
“Look, Rach, I know it’s a bit of an inconvenience, but I can’t leave him home alone. He’s honestly the sweetest person you’ll ever meet and he’s had a rough time of it. His parents were assholes and I think he’d love it. Please think about it.”
Her gaze softens and she studies me for a moment. “Seems like you really care about him.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” I can’t stop smiling as I run a hand through my hair, and I realize what a mistake I’ve made when her face pales.
“Shit,” she whispers. “Tell me you’re not fucking him.”
My face heats and I open my mouth to reply, but then close it again, because I have nothing to say.
“Jesus Christ, Paul,” she hisses, leaning closer to me, her gaze fierce. “He’s a kid.”
“He’s not a kid.” I glare at her. “He’s nineteen.”
