Page 56 of Love at First Fright

Charlie froze. Became absolutely motionless, like I’d turned him to stone.

My hand travelled lower. Down his arm. The fabric of his jumpsuit felt rough under Brad’s fingertips. I relished Charlie’s body heat beaming through it, radiating like a furnace.

When I reached his wrist—the one not holding the torch—my fingers found that rainbow bracelet. The wonky one with the unusual, irregular beads. I’d noticed it earlier, when Charlie first arrived. Had wondered about it.

I traced the pattern. Felt each lumpy knot.

“This is nice.”

The words came out soft. Too soft, for Brad. I couldn’t stop touching the bracelet. Who made it for him? If it meant what I thought it meant… then maybe a boyfriend?

Jealousy prickled across my skin like gooseflesh.

Charlie scowled. “Are you kidding me right now? You didn’t seem to like it very much the other day.”

“What? Well, I didn’t get a proper look at it.”

His face tilted. He studied me like I was a puzzle with missing pieces. Then he shook his head. Violently. “Listen, I’m not falling for this ‘nice Brad’ routine again.” His voice hardened. “Stop playing games with me. Else I’m going to report you to Gerald for harassment.”

I dropped his wrist. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” The hurt in Brad’s voice surprised me. Genuine. Unguarded. “I was just curious about the bracelet, is all.”

Charlie’s jaw worked. “My niece made it for me.” His tone softened. “Lily. She’s only seven, but super smart. I don’t get to see her very often, so I wear it to feel close to her. And her mum. My sister.”

Something deep, deep, inside of me, inside of me, ached.

I moved closer to him. Couldn’t help it. Charlie’s back hit the wall with a soft thump.

“Why don’t you get to see your sister very often?”

“They live up north. I don’t have a car. And I…” He cut himself off. Shook his head. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you.”

I sounded upset. A flash of guilt crossed Charlie’s face.

For fuck’s sake, Bat. Really? Just what was my plan here? The inevitable result of continuing down this line would only be Charlie getting hurt again. Because when I gave Brad back his body, he’d go straight back to being a dickhead.

“Why?” asked Charlie, folding his arms.

“I want us to be friends.”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Pathetic, really. But this was my first conversation with a living human in who knew how long. And it felt like a drug. Charlie felt like a drug, even with that glare, that frown splitting his forehead in two.

“Friends,” Charlie repeated. Scepticism dripped from every syllable. “You and me?”

“Is that so crazy?”

I tried for a cute, lopsided smile. The sort that used to work on people back when I had my own face. Brad’s mouth cooperated, pulling up at one corner. Must’ve succeeded, because Charlie’s hard edges softened.

“But friends are nice to each other,” he pointed out.

Fair.

“I’ll… try to do better.” Brad’s voice came out quiet. Vulnerable in a way the real Brad would never be. “I just have trouble expressing myself sometimes. Expressing my… feelings.”

Charlie’s face changed again. A flicker of understanding, maybe even sympathy? His shoulders relaxed, his head tilted. Oh dear. What had I done now?

He reached out. Touched my arm.