“Yes, that part. I liked that part a lot.”
Tears fall down my cheek, and Charlie kisses them away. I’m already smiling when he says, “I love you, Alice Everly.”
Alice Everly. Alice Everly. Alice Everly.
“I want to make you laugh that witchy laugh. And I want to be there for you when you cry. I’ll bake all your birthday cakes. I want to tell you dirty things and watch you blush. I want to see every photo you take and tell you how brilliant you are. I want to get to know your whole family. I want to hear all of your jokes. Iwant to spend summers at the lake with you and winters in the city. I want to run your errands, and buy you expensive soap, and pose nude for you.”
I laugh.
“There it is,” he says to himself. “My Alice has the best laugh.”
“ ‘My Alice’?” I say, grinning.
“I hope so. I want that,” he says. “I want you more than anything.”
“Good,” I tell him, setting my hand on the scruff of his jaw. “Because I love you, too, Charlie Florek.”
His smile grows. It’s sunshine shimmering over the water. It’s permanent summer.
“I love you so much it’s a little embarrassing,” I say.
His green eyes sparkle. His pretty mouth smirks.
My Charlie.
“Whoa-level embarrassing? Or crash-your-boat-into-a-rock-level embarrassing?”
“Much worse,” I tell him. “It’s so much worse.”
I kiss him once, carefully.
“You can do better than that, Alice.”
“I’m afraid of hurting you.”
His fingers thread into my hair. “It’d be worth it,” he says, and then Charlie takes my mouth with his.
It feels like all the greatest kisses in one. Like kissing your high school crush, and the best friend you’ve fallen in love with, and the person you want to stand beside for as long as time will let you. It’s the starting gun and the finish line. It’s a surge of pleasure and satisfaction and rightness that reaches deep into my soul. And even when a neighbor opens the door to their apartment and gasps, we don’t stop kissing. But eventually Charlie pulls away with a groan.
“I knew it would have been smarter to keep this to myself.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I still have at least another week before I’m cleared to have sex.”
I laugh. “Typical. You always want to take things slow.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says. “I’ll make it up to you for a very long time.”
53
Friday, October 10
Susie’s Birthday
The next morning, we’re woken by Sam calling to let us know that the baby was born in the early hours of the day. Both she and Percy are healthy. They’ve named her Sue, after Sam and Charlie’s mom, but they plan to call her Susie. Sam sends us a dozen photos, and everyone looks tired and happy and snuggly.
Charlie and I lie in bed, marveling at the pictures, and after breakfast, he asks me if I’ll help him shave—he’s supposed to be careful with raising his arms. I sit on the marble counter in his bathroom, and he stands between my legs. As I carefully run his razor over his cheek and jaw and neck, he apologizes for our last conversation at the lake, for pushing me away, for saying he wouldn’t stay interested, that it wouldn’t work, that he’d get bored.
