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He nods and then says, “Don’t, Simon,” shooing me with his hand when I reach for my wallet. “It’s been a while, right? How’s our boy Mike doing?”
“He’s good. I’ll be staying with him when I head up there in August.”
“You tell him I said hello, all right?” It’s difficult to see the hurt look in his eyes. Maybe it was a mistake coming here. When I nod, he shifts his gaze to Charlotte and winks. “And who’s this?”
“Down boy.” I’m fucking with Andrew, acutely aware that he’s still one hundred percent into my brother. “This is Charlotte…Charlotte Mason.”
He’s good, barely raising an eyebrow when I say her full name. “Andrew,” is all he says, extending his hand as he studies her.
The kind smile she gives Andrew makes it seem like she’s somehow figured out the whole backstory, the whole tragic mess. And the look he returns says he’s grateful, which makes no sense whatsoever. I’m sure it’s all in my head, nothing more than another person falling under this beautiful girl’s spell.
We fly around the track dozens of times, and it’s good. This is stupid and fun, where it’s usually heavy between us. She crashes into the hay bales trying to beat me, and I nearly flip a couple of times, because damn, she’s competitive and reckless in her pursuit of winning.
“I’m giving you the win, Mason.”
“Giving me nothing…I won.”
She reaches over and swipes a finger across my chin, then tastes the wayward cheese from my chilidog. Just her touching me casually like this has me sucking in a breath. Every smile, every brush of skin against skin affects me. Jesus, the girl sneezed before and I found myself thinking she was freaking adorable.
Pushing her half-eaten burger towards me, she adds, “You’re a decent driver, though. I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks, I think.” The overhead lights come on and I look around to see it’s getting more crowded. I was only able to get us in here free of charge during the off-peak hours, when Andrew’s manager isn’t around. “Do you need to get back soon? Library is probably closed by now.”
She drags a fry through a blob of ketchup. “I almost laughed before when you said something about borrowed time. I basically never have to be home.”
“No curfew?”
“No curfew, no supervision, no nada.”
The way she says it, I suspect the hurt is deep. “It’s just you, Christian and your dad at home? No other brothers or sisters?”
“It’s me and Christian, with my father making an appearance here and there.” She thinks on something for a moment and then tilts her head. “Maybe I’m being a baby about the whole thing.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m old enough not to need him around, and I’m used to it. And I can’t stand his girlfriend, so I should be happy that he doesn’t bring her to the house.”
“He has a girlfriend?”
I hold back from adding the wordalreadyonto that sentence, but she takes it as if I did anyway.
“He’s gone through several girlfriends since my mother got sick. This one’s been in the picture for two or three years now.”
“Wow.”
“It’s so embarrassing, Simon. I mean, she’s practically the same age as my brother.”
“Think they’ll get married?”
“I hope I’m long gone by the time that happens.”
“What does your brother think about it?”
“I wouldn’t know. Christian and I…We’re not close. I don’t think we ever were, not even before my mother got sick.”
“That’s gotta be weird then, with just the two of you in the house.”
“Beyond weird, I guess. But to me it’s just the way it is. He acts like it’s his house. He throws parties every weekend, has girls coming and going. I basically feel like an uninvited guest in my own home.”
