Stranger: Words . . . you’re not getting rid of me.
My cheeks burned as my lips stretched into a smile.
Then eventually.
Stranger: Good. Go get ready for work. I’ll talk to you later.
Have a good day, Stranger.
I stood from the couch and started walking back toward the bedroom when my phone vibrated in my hand again.
Stranger: Hey, Words? Having what you wrote about him at the beginning makes it seem like that’s what is happening now. He’s your past . . . I think he should come after us.
Us. I stared at that word for the longest time as those stupid, stupid butterflies took up residence in my stomach again, then I tapped out a response.
Okay then.
Chapter Nine
Deacon
June 11, 2016
I GLANCED AT Charlie’s car as Graham and I walked up to the warehouse, and shifted the bags in my hands when he knocked on the door. After knocking again and not getting an answer, Graham tried the door, and sent me an annoyed look when it opened.
This was Thatch, but Jagger and Grey really needed to start locking their door.
Loud music was blasting through the warehouse, and from experience, we knew that meant Jagger was drawing in the back.
“Jagger,” we mumbled at the same time.
“I’ll go let him know we’re here,” he said, and set off in that direction, but I didn’t bother to respond as a flash of blond caught my attention.
I hurried to set the bags of food on the table before quietly walking toward the couches, where Charlie was curled into a ball on her side; her finger still holding her place in a book even though she was asleep.
My mouth curled into an amused grin as I squatted next to her. “People actually fall asleep like this?” I said under my breath, and carefully took the book from her.
Once I had it set down, I looked back down at her, and was struck again with the intense urge to touch her. To feel her body against mine again.
Before I could do something as stupid as either of those things, her eyes shot open and she jerked away from me. Her hand went to her chest, and she exhaled roughly.
“Oh my God, Deacon,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Charlie Girl.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks, and though she opened her mouth, it took her a few seconds to get the words out. “Why are you staring at me while I sleep? It’s creepy when Keith does it, and I actually expect him to be there when I wake up.”
“I . . .” I blew out a slow breath, and sat back on my heels when I faltered for a reason that I could give her. “I was going to wake you up. You beat me to it.”
“Room.”
My brow furrowed. “What?”
She placed her hand against my chest, and pushed. “Give me room so I can sit up.” Once she was upright, she ran a hand through her long hair and looked around the large room as she blinked slowly, like she was trying to orient herself.
“How did you sleep through Jagger’s music?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Years of getting used to it, I guess.”
Jesus Christ. Why the hell did this tired, rumpled version of Charlie make me want her more?
This was Charlie. Charlie Girl. Jagger’s shy little sister. Shy, sweet Charlie who had always been in the background my entire life. No man could deny that she was gorgeous, but she wanted to be invisible, and she usually succeeded in it.
I’d never once thought of her in any way like I had the past couple weeks. I’d never wanted to touch her. I’d never wanted to push her back down and cover her body with mine. I’d never wanted to know what she felt like beneath me.
This had to be what it felt like to lose your damn mind. Because this was fucking Charlie.
It had never been that she was untouchable; it was just that there was no thinking of her at all. I didn’t know what to do now that I couldn’t stop. Ever since that night, that damn night outside these very walls had changed something. And I wanted to change it right back.
“Why are you here?” she asked softly.
I glanced up to find her studying the ground with her arms wrapped securely around her waist.
There she went, trying to be invisible again . . . but I’d never seen anyone so clearly.
“Graham and I brought breakfast from Mama’s,” I said as I nodded toward the kitchen area, even though she still wasn’t looking at me. “Speaking of, I figured I would’ve seen you there.”
“I switched with someone, so I’m going in later today.” She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen, and said, “But I should get ready because I have to walk to work.”
“Walk?” I asked as she stood.
Charlie gave me an odd look just as Keith came running in.
“Deaton, Deaton, Deaton! Guess who I am!”
I huffed when he slammed into me, then held him away from me to look at his face. Across his forehead was a large A.
“Uh . . . Ant-Man?”
Keith sighed. “No, I’m Captain America.”
I laughed. “Of course you are. Where’s your shield?” But Keith was already running away, and my attention went to the girl backing away from me. “Why are you walking to work?”
Again, that odd look. “My car doesn’t work. You didn’t finish fixing it.”
“Yes, I did,” I said, disagreeing with her. “I stayed up—” I cut off quickly before I could tell her that I’d stayed up talking to some girl, and instead said, “I didn’t sleep at all after the wedding, so I came here and finished working on it. There’s no real fix for your car unless you want to spend thousands of dollars, and honestly, your car isn’t worth it. No offense, but it would just break down again in a year if you’re lucky, probably six months. So there are temporary fixes that might help it run for a couple days at a time. I did what I could.”
She stood there for a few seconds without saying anything or looking at me, and finally, her blue eyes flickered up. “Really?”
“Yeah. If I can get it into the shop, I might be able to get it to run for longer periods at a time, but I think you should look into getting a new car.”
Charlie sighed, and mumbled, “Now you sound like—”
“At least someone agrees with me,” Jagger said as he came into the main room from the back halls.
I hadn’t even realized his music had turned off.