“Which brings us back to you.”
“Me?” It comes out breathless.
The smirk grows. “You’ve back-burnered relationships, but what about sex?”
My cheeks flush again, but this time, I answer honestly. “I haven’t got that sorted out yet. I know it sounds prudish, but I can’t get my head around sleeping with someone I don’t care about.”
Charlie stares at me, no hint of the joker anymore. I like this about him—he has an instinct for when it’s okay to play and when it’s better to listen. He sees what people need the way I do.
“Anyway…” I smile. “Let’s just say I’ve appreciated page 179 ofRuling the Roguemore than once.”
Charlie’s laugh bounces around the bay. “Good for you.”
We look at each other, grinning.
“I used to think I’d settle down with someone,” he says. “House. Backyard. Kids. A big, slobbery dog.” He gazes at the shore, and the smile on his face makes me ache. I can see his fantasy as clear as a photograph. “I used to think I’d have all of it.”
“Past tense?”
“Yeah.” He seems to choose his words carefully. “I’ve realized I’m not built for something long-term.”
“Resigned bachelor?”
“Something like that. The relationship my parents had, that my brother has—that cosmic, soulmate thing—it’s not in the cards for me.”
“Because you don’t want it?”
There’s a deep sadness in his gaze. “Ican’twant it.”
I chew on my lip before I speak. I don’t want to overstep. But Charlie’s having none of it.
“Say whatever’s on your mind, Alice.”
“The way you looked at Sam and Percy the other day. You seemed…unhappy?”
“Do all your friends undergo such thorough scrutiny?” Charlie says, locking his eyes onto mine. “Or am I special?”
“I’m sorry. I just…Forget it.” I let go of his leg and reach for the rope so I can pull myself toward the dock, but then Charlie speaks.
“They remind me of my parents.”
I turn back to him.
“The way they look at each other,” he says. “The way they touch each other constantly. How they whisper to each other. Even the way they make fun of one another. It’s so much like my mom and dad.”
“That must hurt.”
“Sometimes,” he admits. Creases form at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. “And sometimes it’s really nice.”
We watch each other in silence. The only sounds come from the lake. Water lapping against the shore, the distant hum of a boat circling the bay, the occasional softsplashof a pine cone falling into the water.
Charlie’s expression turns as serious as I’ve seen on him.
“What?”
“You should give Harrison a shot,” he says. “I think you’d get along.”
I get along with you.
