“Ada, he’s terrified of you.”
“That’s ridiculous. He lives in a different air space than I do.” Her expression had turned into one of those kinds that made me feel guilty and sad for myself, and now I wanted to punch something. “Okay, fine, maybe I haven’t”—I cleared my throat, hating the words coming out of my mouth—“exactly made an effort to get to know him. But I’m not, uh, good at get-to-know-you questions. Especially around people who have the power to hurt my baby sister. I just... I want to be sure I can kick his ass without feeling bad about it. Should the need arise.”
She rolled her eyes. “While I appreciate the support, a date with Charlie makes me nervous. I don’t want you to shrink back anymore, Ada. I want you happy. Healthy. Out there.” She flung a hand toward the window. “All you do is work. Or work out. The bar is your entire life. If you date Charlie, and it goes badly, then what? If he takes the bar away from you, what are you going to do?”
Had I been shrinking back? I felt like I came out of the gate like an angry bull. That was my natural personality. Always willing to scrap. Always willing to stand up for what I believed in. Always willing to go to the mat. But she was right about friends. I really had closed off access to myself. Was that because of Charlie?
Or was it an autonomous decision I’d made?
Damn, I worried she was right. Because the point Charlie had made last night had been true for me too. He’d gotten under my skin. He’d sunk into my bones, into my soul. It had been a fun fling that was easy to walk away from—or at least I’d been telling myself that narrative all these years.
If I were honest with myself—which I loathed to be—I would have to admit that he’d hurt me more than I wanted to admit. And what hurt the most wasn’t the version of us that had ended, it was the potential of us that never was.
To my sister, I said, “The problem is, he’s terrible for me on paper. I know that. I hear what you’re saying. But I still want to go, Adleigh. I still want to explore this thing between us. Because we’ve changed in the past five years. Both of us have. But that something we felt all those years ago is still there. And I... I want to see what it is.”
Her expression softened, and she stood up a little straighter. “You really think he’s changed?”
“I don’t think it. I know it. I see it. We had a long talk the other day, and he shared some of the stuff he was going through back then and the different ways he’s coped. He’s genuinely not the same. He’s in a much healthier headspace. He got help. He did the hard work. He’s actually inspired me to work out some of my own mess.” I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve seen it for a while. But I don’t think I wanted to believe him. I think I wanted him to stay the same screwup so I didn’t have to feel worse about myself. And about what happened. But... Adleigh, the date is his idea. He’s pursuing me. And I just, I just... I don’t want to push him away anymore.” I tucked a short strand of hair behind my ear. Or tried to. It escaped almost as soon as I let go. “I can’t resist him. And I’m at a point where I don’t want to. If it ends up being just sex again, I can live with that. It will be fun. I’ll recover, I think. But, honestly, he had a chance to make it just sex, and he was the one who put the brakes on. He's the one who’s asking for more. I’m willing to let him try.”
Her expression gentled even more. “Ada, are you serious?”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if it will go anywhere, but—”
“I’m just happy you’re trying,” she gushed, tears wetting her eyes in the exact opposite reaction I would have had. “This is what I want for you. I want you to be willing to try again. Honestly try. Open yourself up and let someone in. I’m shocked as shit that it’s fucking Charlie English bringing it out of you. But God, I’m so happy you’re letting it happen.”
I made a face. “You make me sound like an emotionally stunted psychopath.”
“You’re not a psychopath,” she assured me sincerely, conveniently leaving out a defense for the emotionally stunted part.
“Ad, it might surprise you that I sometimes know what I’m doing.”
She shook her head. “Ada, you literally never know what you’re doing. But I admire your confidence.”
“You are the actual worst,” I snarled, laughing.
She grinned at me. “If he hurts you again, I’ll castrate him.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“I hope it works out this time,” she said in a soft, serious voice.
I didn’t know how to respond, so I smiled and grabbed some cleaning supplies and dove headfirst into the oven.
I hope it works out this timewas a very long-term perspective on a first date. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted it to work out this time. I didn’t mind a date or two. Or a night or ten together. But was I looking for the one? Was I hoping to settle down? Did I want Charlie to become more than Charlie?
My five-year plan jumped up and down in the back of my head, waving banners with babies on them. But was Charlie the other half of that equation?
I focused on cleaning, deciding big questions deserved big answers. And this was only a first date. Nothing more. Nothing less. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.
sixteen
I was soworried about this first date I was going to make myself sick. Charlie was going to be here in ten minutes—or so he said—and I was still staring at my outfit options laid out on my bed while I walked around in my bra and undies.
Well, they could hardly be called undies, which was why it would be especially embarrassing if Charlie managed to show up early for the first time in his life.
Thankfully, I’d finished my hair and makeup. I’d started those a full two hours ago just to be safe. But the outfit decision was killing me.
Usually, this was when I’d bring Eliza in. She was my style guru. She would know exactly what I should wear. But I had about a hundred reasons to keep this date a secret. Starting with the fact that Adleigh’s warning would look like a glowing endorsement after Eliza got done reminding me of all the reasons I should stay as far away from Charlie as possible.
