8
* * *
Charlie
I wakeup in Trick Cavanaugh’s bed.
What the hell?
Memories of yesterday rush back--the snow, the sex-- and I vaguely remember Trick putting out the fire and carrying me upstairs around midnight, so we could have shower sex after things got deliciously messy with the s’mores.
We then fell into bed and fell fast asleep. But the morning has dawned clear and bright. Quietly, I roll out of bed and step into his bathroom. I survey the damage to my hair, glad to see it’s fine. One of the perks of having super short hair is that sleeping on it wet is no big deal.
So, yea, my hair is fine, but the rest of me is a damn mess. There’s a hickey on my neck--the fuck? I’m way too old for hickeys, right? And my skin is splotchy from stubble burn, but I can’t regret a moment of it.
I wash up as best I can, knowing I need to hit the road if I’m going to make decent time to upstate New York on Christmas Eve. My clothes are still downstairs, so I slip back into Trick’s sweats and hoodie. They smell like sex, but what can you do?
I tiptoe back into his room, unsure of the morning-after etiquette, but he’s awake. Phew. For a second there, I thought this was going to be awkward.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I tease, knowing he’s not much of a morning person. Neither am I truthfully. It’s 8 a.m. and I'm pretty sure neither of us has been awake this early in ages.
“Morning,” he mumbles with a smile. “You ready for coffee?” His eyes are half-open, so I’m guessing I’d be drinking that coffee alone. But honestly, I don’t have time for a cup. When I stop to gas up in a few hours, I’ll grab a quick bite. By then, I’m sure I’ll need the caffeine.
“No, I’m good. Don’t want to drink too much and then have to stop a million times. Traffic will be hectic enough.”
He gives me a bit of a blank look, but I’m sure he’s just tired.
“My clothes are still downstairs,” I blush, “and it’s too damn cold to run around here bare-ass naked, so I’m stealing yours. I can mail them back to you.”
Now he looks really confused. “Mail them back?”
“Yea, you know, like letters and packages and stuff? I mean, unless you really do need me to work next week. It’s just that the week between Christmas and New Year’s is always a little dead, so I figured I wouldn’t drive six hours for a couple shifts, but if you need me--”
“You’re leaving?” he asks, and he sounds genuinely lost. Jesus, did he hit his head or something?
“Yea. Like I told you yesterday. I’m heading home to Syracuse for Christmas, and I’m staying there.”
“For good?”
“Yes.” What the hell? I know we had this conversation. “I mean, there’s nothing keeping me in Maryland.” He winces, and I know those are harsh words, but they’re true. “Brady and I are beyond done, so I’m going back up north. I’ll live with Samantha until I find a place I like and I’m gonna text my old boss at the Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. I can pick up a few shifts there until I decide my next steps.” It’s the same thing I’ve been telling myself for more than twenty-four hours, but somehow, the words sound strange when I say them out loud. I mean, yes, living with my sister is less than ideal. Her judginess practically requires its own bedroom, but that’s temporary. And, no, I actually don’t know if Dave can give me my old job back, but at least he still works there. Or at least, he did. According to Facebook. In 2018…
Okay, so it’s not a solid plan.
But it’s the only one I’ve got.
“Stay,” he says it clearly, but it takes a minute to register.
“Stay? Here?”
“Yes, here. Here in Maryland. Here at my bar. Hell, rent that apartment from Tina, or whatever. But just know, you don’t have to go.”
“Yes, I do--”
“Ok, I get it, your family is expecting you for the holidays. But they’re not expecting you to permanently relocate. And yea, you and Brady are over, but there are plenty of reasons to stay here. You love it here, even if we can’t drive in snow. You have a million friends. And, after last night, you know you have me. Stay with me, Charlie. Give this a chance.”
“A chance?” I feel ridiculous, just repeating his words, but nothing makes sense right now.
“Yes, a real chance. You. Me. A real relationship. C’mon. I know last night was the first time we gave in to the temptation we’ve been resisting for years.”
