“There’s no such thing as perfect.”
“In theory.”
“And if there were, it would be boring.” He flicks his hand in the water, sending a gentle arc of water over my toes. “And you, Alice Everly, are anything but boring.”
The compliment washes over me like a warm breeze.
“Trevor got engaged just two months after he dumped me,” I say after a moment. “It felt like a second betrayal—I put so much effort into his business, so much effort into us.”
“I think you dodged a bullet,” Charlie says. “He sounds like an ass who didn’t know when he had a good thing.”
My lips part in surprise. “Thanks,” I whisper.
“It makes sense,” he says.
“What does?”
“You’re acts of service.”
My stare is blank.
“It’s your love language.”
“I’m sorry, are you citing romance self-help to me?”
“Not with that attitude.”
I stifle my smile. “My apologies. Please, do go on.”
“My mom had a copy ofThe 5 Love Languagesin our house growing up.”
“Which you read because…”
“Girls,” he says.
“Naturally.”
“Anyway, people often show love the way they want to receive it. You’re acts of service. You show love by performing thoughtful acts, like helping your ex with his business and bringing Nan to the lake. But those gestures can go unnoticed or unappreciated.”
It’s like a gear locking into place in my brain. Thatisme.
He shifts onto his back, lacing both hands behind his head, and my gaze briefly catches on the flex of bicep as his elbows splay on either side of his temples.
“But the thing about love languages,” Charlie says, “is it’s not just about how we express love, but how wereceivelove. You need someone to do something for you that makes you feel loved. Someone to help you.”
I shake my head. “I hate asking for help.”
“That’s because deep down, you want someone to see what you need before you have to ask.”
“You’re full of surprises, Charlie Florek.”
A gust of wind has us spinning away from each other, but Charlie tugs on the rope that tethers us together so that he’s facing me, his head near my feet. He wraps a hand around my ankle so we don’t drift apart, and I hold on to his. It’s tactical, but my body doesn’t know that. My skin sizzles beneath his palm, sending a hot bolt up my calf.
“What’s your love language?” I ask. “I assume teasing isn’t included in the book.”
The corner of Charlie’s mouth lifts into a seductive smirk, and I’m certain his grip tightens on me. “Physical touch.”
Heat ripples through me once more, settling between my legs. “Oh.”
