I stare at her in question, wishing I could remember meeting her but having no recollection.
“I grossed Vivian and Quinn out when I told you I liked pus more than blood because it’s less predictable.”
“That is hot.”
She smiles at me, lighting up the room, and I wonder how she became the amazing person she is when she had gone through so much as a child.
How could no one have ever loved her, yet she’s still so sweet and kind and loving?
I must stare at her too long because she nervously asks, “What?”
I crawl over and pull her into my lap. “Tell me about what it was like to grow up inan orphanage.”
She freezes, staring at me, not breathing.
“Sorry. I swear my brain doesn’t work correctly around you. You don’t have to answer that.”
Charlotte lets out a breath. “It’s lonely and sad.”
I stroke her hair and pull her closer. “How old were you when you got there?”
“Three.”
My heart is breaking, and I don’t know why I’m making her tell me this. I can tell it’s painful, but I continue asking her questions.
“What happened?”
“My parents died in a crash, and there wasn’t anyone to take me.”
“I’m sorry.”
She swallows hard then shrugs.
I imagine a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, three-year-old, scared, sad, and lonely. My heart bleeds more for her.
Stroking her cheek, I tell her, “I think you’re amazing.”
She gives me a sad smile, then says, “What about your parents? They were traveling when you had your accident?”
“They’re retired and aren’t in the country often. I’ve seen them a few times since then, but they are somewhere in Europe right now. I lose track where.”
“I already know you don’t have any siblings...”
“No, there’s just me.”
“So who’s been watching you since the accident?”
I laugh. “No one. I can take care of myself.”
She tilts her head at me and scans my eyes. “That sounds lonely.”
My pulse goes up. The guys have been there for me, but it has been lonely...and depressing, too.
Her hands lace together behind my head, and I get this strange sense of déjå vu, but I can’t pinpoint it. “I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you. I’m here if you ever need to talk, Xander.”
A wave of emotion hits me so hard I have to blink tears back, and I turn my head away from her.
“Hey,” she softly says, and I turn back to her. Her hand brushes the side of my head. “Everything will be okay.”
