“I just don’t know what to do,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to help Bobby, and I don’t know how to help you stay.”
Charlie kissed me on the forehead. “One thing at a time, baby. Have you eaten anything?” he asked.
I shook my head, cheeks warming. He’d never called me that before.
He shifted until I was the one pressed against the back of the couch, and stood. “It’s been a few years since I’ve tried, but I’m confident I can make a better grilled cheese than you.”
I snorted. “You distracted me. It won’t be a fair comparison.”
He smirked, but there was only soft care in his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
He did make a better grilled cheese than me, the stinker.
“It’s all about layering the cheese properly,” he sniffed, slurping up a spoonful of tomato soup.
I mirrored him, rolling my eyes. “I think you’re full of shit.”
“If there’s one thing I am confidently not full of, it’s shit. Been about forty years, actually.”
A laugh rumbled up from my belly. “I think that means you’reextrafull of shit. You should go see a doctor.”
“If I showed up in an emergency room, they’d have more immediate concerns than my bowel movements,” he said, shoving another bite of crispy, toasted bread and cheese into his mouth.
Once we’d finished, we curled back up on the couch in each other’s arms. “I do feel a bit better after that, thank you,” I whispered.
“Mmhmm.”
I peered down at him. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
“That’s my line.”
“It’s a good one.”
He smiled. “I’m thinking… This is all I need. This is all I’ve ever needed, Reece. And no matter what happens tonight, I just want you to know?—”
“No,” I cut in firmly. “No. We’re not doing that.”
He pressed his hand against my heart. “I’m afraid,” he whispered. “I’m afraid we’ll push whatever’s keeping me here too far. Or that remembering will wear me out again, like whenwe first met. I’m afraid I won’t be able to come back for days or weeks. I told you, time is different there. What if I come back too late? What if you’ve left? Or moved on? What if I come back and something’s happened to you, or it’s been another forty years, and—” his words broke off in a sob.
I wiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed his temple, a few of my own escaping. “I love you.”
When he looked ready to reply, I cut him off. “Shh,no. Not yet. You don’t get to say it back yet, because we don’t have your twinkle lights on, and I want to spatchcock another chicken for you first. But I need you to know I will do everything in my power to carve out a life for us, whatever that looks like. There is no moving on from you. I’m not going to let you go, no matter what happens tonight.”
He pressed his trembling lips to mine. “I promise I’ll always be able to find you. Wherever you go, I’ll be there, too.”
I kissed him, and it was different than all the others we’d shared. It burned, and time slowed, like Charlie and I were all that remained in the world.
“Reece…” he breathed, fingers finding the hem of my shirt and lightly scratching through the hair on my belly. “Do you feel okay enough? Your head?—”
“Yes,” I panted, gripping his waist and moving over him. “Please.”
We were a match lit too soon.
Rushed and immediate, our hands raked over each other like we only had seconds before time ran out. He wrestled my shirt over my head—a considerable feat, seeing as I didn’t want to stop touching him. I straddled him and shoved my tongue back into his mouth, one knee slipping between the cushions and digging in painfully to the frame of the pull-out bed below, but I didn’t care.
I needed to have him close to me. Needed the reassurance that we were both still there. Still together. Still real. He did too, judging by the near-feral gleam in his eyes when he nipped and tugged my bottom lip, like he wanted to consume me before it was too late.
“Fuck,” I said, trying to pull out my cock in the tight squeeze of bodies and clothes and stuck limbs. “I need to feel you.”
