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“Thanks. This feels good. We played for hours.”
Jesus, we had. It was dark, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Hell, I’d promised Charles dinner too. “Sorry. Guess I should feed ya. I’m sure you were ready to quit hours ago.”
I stood, but Charles’s hand on my arm stopped me. He was warm, so fucking warm, which I shouldn’t crave because it was June in North Carolina so there was already enough heat all around me. But the humid air didn’t feel like his skin, wasn’t somehow both soft and rough, pulsing with energy that jump-started my heart.
“If I have nothing to apologize for,” Charles said, “then you don’t either.”
My gaze traveled to his hand on my forearm, to the slight difference in the tone of our skin and how I was more golden from the sun. Charles pulled away, and a gentle whisper of a plea played in my head—touch me again.
I shook those words free, determined not to let myself get all up in my head and dwell on them. “I got some steaks in the fridge.”
“I’m a vegetarian,” he replied, and laughed when my eyeballs popped out of my head. “I’m giving you shit. I love meat.”
“You asshole.” Really, I shouldn’t have believed him. He’d put chicken in his grocery cart, but I’d forgotten. The air around us was light despite the humidity. I didn’t understand how I wasn’t ready for him to go, why I didn’t want my space and to be alone. “We can have a bonfire if you want, drink a beer or whatever. I’m sure you might want to get on home, and that’s okay, but I thought…” God, what did I think?
I was wondering if there was a way to take the words back or make him forget I’d ever said them—and more importantly, make myself forget—but then Charles said, “I’d like that. I can’t promise I can play any more tonight. My brain is fried, but I’d like to stay, and if you want to play, I’ll listen.”
“Sure thing. Let me get the grill going.” I headed down the porch to my Traeger. It was filled with pellets and already cleaned, so I just turned it on.
When we got inside, Charles asked me where the bathroom was, so I showed him down the hallway and pointed, then went into the kitchen and pulled out the steaks, wishing I’d tenderized and seasoned them earlier. It wouldn’t be as good now, and after the evening we’d shared, I really wanted Charles to have a good meal.
My eyes were drawn to the flowers on the table. They were so bright and pretty, they shouldn’t belong in my gloomy house, yet they fit there, even if they were a little out of place. I spent my life feeling out of place, so I took some comfort in that.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Charles asked a few minutes later.
It was so strange having someone ask me that. I didn’t have folks over for dinner, except Sutton and Jasper, but that didn’t feel the same. There was this twisty feeling inside me. I was both on edge and at ease. Jesus, I was losing my mind. “You’re the guest.”
“I don’t care about that,” Charles replied, going to the sink and washing his hands. He just…made himself at home. He was comfortable here in a way I would never be in someone else’s space.
“You wanna cut potatoes? I figured we could put them in foil with onions and peppers.”
“Fuck, that sounds good. I’m starving.”
I really should’ve fed him earlier. I’d gotten so distracted playing music with him that I hadn’t thought of anything else. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it goin’ so long.”
He wrinkled his nose like he thought I was being silly. “You don’t have to apologize, remember? I enjoyed myself. Now, you do it again, and me and you might have words.” He winked, and I rolled my eyes.
I pointed to the potatoes, which Charles grabbed. I got a cutting board and knife out for him, and he rambled on while we worked. I mostly listened and let Charles do the talking. He was definitely good at it.
Being in my kitchen with another person was new but not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, maybe because Charles didn’t give me much time to overthink it. Keeping up with everything he was saying took all my focus.
We got the foil packets on the grill first, and then I got a fire going in the pit. The sky was black, lit up by millions of dots of light that were easy to get lost in. My floodlights and the fire helped illuminate the space for us.
“It’s so silent out here.” Charles sat in one of the chairs by the pit. He leaned back and closed his eyes. For some reason, I stood there watching him, and again, took in how at ease he was. I wondered if anything shook him. “It’s relaxing. New York City is never like this.”
