Where One Goes(78)

He worries his bottom lip for a few seconds as he stares down at me. “How are you?” he asks, his voice deep and husky, making my insides curl.

“I’m good,” I manage after a beat. “How are you?” I add. “Y-you look really good, George,” I finish in a nervous stutter.

He smiles and nods in agreement. “That’s because I’m clean.”

The others sidle by us, quietly, all of them giving quick, knowing glances. It’s no secret to anyone George and I have some things to work out, and it makes my heart burst with happiness that they’re all rooting for us. It’s nice to know I finally feel at home here, and they want to see us happy and together.

Once they’re all inside, George remains steady and continues to hold my hand. He pulls me toward him and slams my body to his. I tense for a moment from shock, but quickly mold to him as I tentatively wrap my arms around his neck. He holds me to him, tightly, breathing into my neck. And it feels amazing. My chest presses firmly against his. The electricity between us is palpable. A long minute passes where neither of us says a word. When his mouth finally finds my ear he whispers, “I’ve missed you like crazy. I gotta spend some time here with everyone, but I’d like it if we could leave together afterwards. I need to tell you some things. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” I whisper, still holding onto him for dear life. He doesn’t let me go, and I’m not sure how long we’d remain standing here if not for Cameron popping his head out and clearing his throat.

“I hate to break up this lovers’ moment, or whatever this is,” he motions his hand wildly in our direction, “but Mom says we can’t eat until you two come in. And I’m a growing boy,” he adds. “I need to eat.”

George snorts as he pulls away from me and turns his head to Cameron. “We’ll be right in.” Cameron, satisfied with this, leaves us and George’s gaze finds mine. “Just in case I forget to tell you later, you look beautiful tonight, Charlotte.”

Warmth crawls up my neck and covers my cheeks as his heated stare stays focused on mine. Before I respond, I look down and realize he’s wearing my brother’s necklace. My fingers brush over it softly as I smile. “You’re wearing it.”

Swallowing hard, he takes my hand and presses it to his chest. “I have your brother’s necklace, and you have my brother’s tags.” Then he tilts his face down and presses a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling me inside to join the others for dinner.



Dinner went great. Everyone laughed and reminisced, and when the subject of Ike came up, George asked me questions about my time with him, and I take that as a good sign. When I became teary-eyed, he’d handed me his napkin to wipe my face and squeezed my leg under the table to comfort me. George told us about his struggles with addiction, how and why he thinks he came to be in that bad spot in his life, and he apologized to all of us for any hurtful things he may have said or done.

When the evening ends, we all collect our coats and before I step outside, Beverly pulls me into her arms and hugs me tightly. “Thank you for saving my son,” she whispers before kissing my cheek. I smile at her but I know George decided to go to rehab on his own; that’s something I can’t take credit for.

“You two be safe tonight,” Cameron winks as he gives George a one-shouldered hug. “And by safe I mean—”

“Cameron,” Beverly warns.

“What?” Cameron feigns ignorance. “I was going to say wear your seatbelts—by safe I meant wear your seatbelts. What did you . . . ? Oh, Mom, come on. Dad, we’ve gotta do something about this woman’s gutter mind. She’s a bad influence on me.”

Beverly’s face turns bright red as we all laugh. Even Henry can’t help chuckling, even when Beverly smacks his chest.

We hug Sniper and Anna good-bye and climb in the Ford Focus my mother made my father buy me when they were in town. She was appalled he’d sold my 4Runner, knowing what it meant to me because it had been Axel’s.

The ride to George’s house is silent. I can sense he’s as nervous as me, but when we pull in to his driveway and I park, he turns toward me. I stiffen when I notice the pain in his eyes. He rubs the back of his neck as he stares at me. “Charlotte, I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through,” he whispers, making a strangled noise before looking down. His hands tremble as I reach out to touch him. He takes my hand in his and traces a circle on it with his finger, finally looking back up at me. “I want to take things slow, but I’m f*cking dying over here,” he adds as he leans in closer. “I’ve spent the last month terrified you’d be gone when I came back or might have changed your mind about me,” he says, sadly. He tilts his head to the side as he reaches out his hand and runs his thumb down my right cheek. “I need to know . . . do we still have a shot?”

Swallowing hard, I nod, but quickly turn away from him and open my car door. Slipping out, I walk up the steps to his door and wait. After a moment, I hear the car door open and slam shut, then he’s right behind me. I take a few quick breaths; anxiousness and excitement coursing through my body. Licking my lips, I step closer to his door. Not meeting his gaze, I stare ahead at the door and say, “I’d like to spend the night with you. Is that okay?”

He doesn’t say a word as he steps closer behind me. His body is so close, for a second I forget to breathe. My chest pounds at warp speed when his arm grazes my waist. Then he unlocks the door and pushes it open, motioning for me to enter first. Once inside, he flicks on some lights and takes a look around. “Your mom and I came over yesterday and cleaned. We wanted it to be nice for you when you returned.”