“Not exactly. I asked him to help you find a man.”
I stare at her. What the hell? “I can find my own men, Harper.”
She snorts. “Obviously. But, Charlie, no one thinks of you as a kid… Okay, maybe your dad. We just don’t want you to move away again. Everyone in this town loves you.”
“Not everyone.” Definitely not Pete.
“Those guys are assholes.”
“I ruined the county fair.”
“That was five years ago. And people love that story.” She pushes the tray of artichoke hearts out of my reach. “I’ve never seen my brother so happy. I mean, before. Now he’s miserable.” She shakes her head. “Now you have me rambling. My point is you and Brad are good for each other.”
That answers the question of whether she knows. “You don’t think it’s weird? He’s twenty years older.”
“He was your high school wrestling coach, so yeah. I had to readjust my thinking a bit. But, Charlie, that’s a me problem. He’s happy with you. And you’re… I mean, you were happy with him. Give him another chance, okay?”
“I’ll think about it.” I just have to get through tonight.
Everything is nearly done by the time the first guests arrive. Brad pulls me aside. “You pulled it off, Charlie. This is amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
I smile. Praise from Brad is hard to resist. “Thanks. And thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
His hand reaches for my face, but he stops and squeezes my shoulder instead. After he walks away, I close my eyes. I miss him. His hand on my face. His body beside me in bed. His monster cock…but most of all, I miss his presence in my life.
We’re all set, and everyone is hidden when Mom and Dad come through the door, arguing with Mom’s assistant. “It’s our anniversary, Shelly. Let it go.” She switches on the lights.
“Surprise!”
Mom stares at us, her mouth open. She turns to Dad, and he shrugs.
“Happy anniversary, Mom. And Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Her shock melts away. And now there are tears. “Charlie. My baby boy.”
I laugh. “Not a baby, Mom. And I’m a man, not a boy.”
She nods. “I know. Sometimes that’s hard to remember.”
After the food, which Mom gushes over, and the cake and plenty of champagne, someone calls for toasts.
As I take the stage, which is just a small area in front of the television, my stomach churns. Why did I eat that second piece of cake? I’ve given lots of presentations and speeches, so public speaking shouldn’t be an issue anymore.
“Thank you for being here with me to celebrate my amazing parents.”
I glance around the room. The entire town isn’t here, but a good portion is. So many faces I recognize. How many were there the last time I addressed the town? Too many. Dani Rae gives me a little wave, and I swallow the bile in my throat. I’m not that same person. I can do this.
“Need any help, Charlie?” someone asks, and I don’t know who it is because another person follows that with, “Hope you didn’t drink any orange soda today.”
I take a deep breath. They’re kidding. I know that. And then Brad is there beside me. I shake my head at him. Does he think I can’t do this?
“Hold on, everyone?—”
“Coach Rathborn to the rescue.”
Why did we invite all these people? I grab Brad’s arm, but he takes my hand, squeezes it, and quickly lets go.
“Listen up,” he says in his sexy coach voice, “I have something to say. And all of you are going to shut up and listen.”
