“Yes. Maybe. Well, depends on what and where, I mean…” Charlie rambles, then remembers River is among us. He clears his throat and sits up straighter, eager to please as always. “What do you mean?”
“We need to sell out the lantern festival. I have an idea.”
“An idea,” Charlie squeaks just as Cupcake barks in apparent agreement with me.
River shoots me a grin, and I grin back, feeling lighter than I have in years.
Most of theisland gets power back before evening. I shoot off a single text in hopes of making the lantern festival sell out, but Charlie does even better: He contacts his entire former team in San Diego, asking if they’ll share about it online, and he even asks Courtney if he’ll consider visiting for said festival. I almost plowed him over with a kiss when he agreed to my suggestion of asking a teammate or two to come. His heart is so big and so pure, and the emotions I feel for him are frightening and all-encompassing.
“People keep DMing me about the festival,” Charlie says excitedly as he follows me into my parents’ house. I’m going to pack a bag to take to his place and grab a good date-night outfit for this evening because we’re going on a date. An official, real-life date. “I had to hand it off to my social mediamanager. It was too much. But there’s no way we won’t sell out now.”
“I’m so excited.” I bounce on my feet a little as I hurriedly pack my bag under Charlie’s watchful eye. “I had Marcia’s grandson post about a surprise superstar guest, so hopefully your teammates pull through with helping with promotion.”
“They’ll pull through. They’re awesome.” Charlie leans against my bedroom doorframe, looking all sorts of edible and perfect. No one has ever looked at me the way Charlie does, like I’m not just the center of his universe, but the reason he can take a deep breath when he wakes up each morning. “Four days is a long time to prepare for the festival. Halloween right after. Does the lantern festival always fall around this time of year?”
“Yeah.” I grab my nicest cardigan from the closet, folding it neater than my clothes and storing it in the duffel. “We don’t have much of a fall festival on the island, since it’s beachy and cool. It’s always been the lantern festival, then straight on to Christmas crap.”
“Christmas crap.” Charlie guffaws. “You don’t like Christmas?”
I shrug and zip up my duffel, tossing it over my shoulder with a wolfish grin. “Christmas is all right. I’m more of a summer guy myself.”
“Sunscreen and sunrises?”
“Exactly,” I say with an exaggerated wink. “Let’s go back to your place. I made plans for our date night. Hey, River thought maybe I should do lime-green hair next. What do you think?”
Charlie places his hand on my head, giving the bit of hair there a good rub. He looks at me fondly, eyes soft, mouthtilted up in a kind, loving smile. “Whatever color you wanna do, sweetheart. I like it every single way.”
“And if I grow it back out, then dye it a million different colors?”
Charlie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind as we step back outside, the smell of the marsh slapping me in the face. I take a deep breath and stare back at Charlie, daring him to be anything but supportive. I should’ve known an unkind word from Charlie will never come. He’s patient and kind, sweeter than honey.
“I think you’re perfect no matter your hair color.” Charlie reaches up to tug his own hair. “Maybe you could dye mine?”
I lean up on my toes to kiss him softly, just a sweet press of lips. When I pull away, I stay close, our breath mingling between us. His eyes say everything my heart wants to say back, despite it only having been a short time of whatever this is between us. Whatever is such a stupid word. This isn’t a whatever thing. This is something good that I won’t let myself throw away because I’ve convinced myself I don’t deserve good things. I deserve Charlie and I deserve home. I deserve to be happy every single day that I’m alive. I’m going to hold on to him as if his patient devotion is my anchor in the hurricane, forever.
“Maybe give you a little undercut, dye the buzzed part.”
Charlie’s eyes twinkle. “Whatever you want.”
I gently shove his chest with a laugh.
Just as we’re about to head back to the truck, I notice the delivery truck barreling down the road. Surprisingly, it turns into the driveway. The world might slow down for a hurricane, but capitalism never stops. The delivery driver hops out of the vehicle with a tired smile.
“Tucker James?”
“Yeah?” I call out, cupping my hands over my eyes at the glint of the sun.
“Delivery for you,” the driver says before disappearing into the back of the truck. He reappears a moment later with four large boxes, two very obviously my remaining guitars. He comes over and drops them at our feet, brandishing the tablet for me to sign. “Signature required.”
I sign the tablet and give him a thankful smile. We watch him drive away before glancing down at the boxes. I swear in annoyance when I notice the return address is Anthony’s. Those four containers are the remainder of all my shit from somewhere I attempted to make a life.
“Tucker?” Charlie asks hesitantly. His hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, and I sway into him a little bit, just for a moment.
“I guess that’s the rest of my belongings.”
“How much did you bring with you?”
I turn my head and press a kiss to Charlie’s bicep. “My guitar and a duffel bag of clothes.”
