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“Oooh, that sounds yummy. I make killer nachos.”
“Well, I can’t pass up killer nachos.”
We get the goods, and I toss some ice cream into the basket before we head back to the register. As she chats with Bill while unloading the basket, I notice he keeps glancing at me. Maybe I’m a little paranoid, but it seems like he’s sneering when Charlie isn’t looking. I give him a closed-mouth smile in acknowledgment. I know this game. He doesn’t like me encroaching on what he considers his territory.
Sorry, buddy, I think to myself. I lean in, my chest touching her right shoulder, and rub my hand up and down the middle of her back. “I’ve got this,” I say, winking at her. My eyes lock with his.
She turns in my arms, which puts her even closer to me, more intimate to the outside world, and smiles. “Are you sure? I don’t mind. You did let me hog the couch all afternoon.”
I smile, enjoying the fact that she just told Bill how we slept on the couch together. “Yeah, I’m positive.” I should probably downplay the pleasure I’m feeling and try not to sound so chipper. “Really. I want to buy them, and I’m the one who benefited on the couch.” I think about leaving the conversation there, insinuating everything, but I don’t. I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable in front of this guy. “I love a good cuddle, remember?”
She turns around as she puts the jar of jalapenos on the counter. When I meet Bill’s eyes again, I smirk with a cocky shrug thrown in for good measure.
He leans forward, trying to block me out. “That’ll be twenty-one dollars sixty-three, Charlie.”
She giggles and nods her head toward me. “His name is Charlie also. What a weird coincidence, huh?” she asks, looking back at me.
“Yeah, weird,” Bill mumbles. I can tell he’s not amused like we are.
I pay the man and grab the bags. She walks out the door, waving goodbye to Bill. Dropping my shades down over my eyes, I add, “Thanks, man. I’m sure I’ll being seeing you again real soon.”
Only the sound of the door chime is heard since he doesn’t respond.
We make it about ten feet down the street before she looks up at me and asks, “So are you always that obnoxious?”
“What?” Oops, I think I’m busted.
“What?” She scoffs. “Yeah, you’re just the picture of innocence. I think you know what you did back there.”
“I’d think any woman would be flattered to have two men—”
“Territorially pissing over them? Yes, that’s oh so flattering, Charlie.” Her tone is flat, not her normal teasing.
“Hey.” I grab her wrist to stop and get her attention. Lifting my sunglasses to the top of my head, I ask, “Are you mad? Because I can’t tell right now.”
She looks down the street, then pushes me backward, moving with me so we’re out of the main path of the sidewalk. “No, I’m not mad. I’m just not used to the attention.”
“If you want my opinion, and I know how you live for that”—I lean down to her eye level so she knows I’m serious—“I think you just never noticed all of the attention you actually get.”
The woman can hold eye contact with a straight face very well. I must admit, it’s a little intimidating. Then the side of her mouth quirks up, and her cheeks pink when she says, “Stop. You’re too complimentary, and I’m not comfortable with all that . . . you know, attention stuff.”
I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t bring Jim up at a time like this, but I have to. She needs to know how special she is, even if I have to give her constant reminders to undo the damage of that relationship. I take her hand in mine and start walking again. I want her to feel safe and keep this conversation casual.
“There’s this girl I know.” I look down at her. “She was hurt. I mean, someone hurt her heart, broke it. Despite having this broken heart, she brought light to everyone around her without even realizing it.”
I notice she squeezes my hand a little tighter before she speaks. “Charlie—”
“No, let me finish the story.” She keeps walking, silent and listening as I continue talking. “Every day I spent with her, I discovered something new and amazing about her, something I didn’t think even she realized about herself.”
“I don’t have low self-esteem anymore,” she says. She’s trying to stay calm, but I can tell she’s getting defensive.
“This is just a story, Charlie.” I glance over at her, and she seems deep in thought.
“Then tell me more.”
“I found myself wanting to spend more and more time around her and her light. One time, I walked into a dark, crowded club, and she was the only one I saw. No one shined as bright as she did, and she alone was the one I wanted to talk to.”
