First Girl Gone(27)

Will burst out laughing.

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t even remember that, but you do.” He chuckled again. “Did I really ask Mr. Bates that question?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus, what a pain in the ass I must have been.” As they walked on, Will’s face turned serious, his eyes on the ground. “Anyway, my point is, I wanted to know you better. But I didn’t know how to get past the walls.”

The bluntness of his words caught Charlie by surprise. She stopped in her tracks.

“Wow.”

Will blinked a few times.

“Sorry. I’m a bit drunk. I didn’t mean to… dissect you like that.”

Charlie craned her neck to look at the moon. It was huge, nearly full.

“No, it’s OK. I suppose you’re not wrong. Allie used to accuse me of being antisocial.”

Charlie smiled faintly, remembering the time Allie told her she was going to turn into a dorky weirdo with no friends if she didn’t quit reading all the time.

She scraped a patch of sidewalk clean with the toe of her shoe, and then glanced up at Will.

“So am I less scary now?”

“God, no.”

She laughed and tilted her head to one side.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“Because these days I have enough experience to know how to handle intimidating women,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers.

“Do you now?”

Will nodded and took a step closer.

Charlie’s heart fluttered against her ribcage like a trapped bird as Will bent down and kissed her. His lips were cold from the night air, but behind that was warmth. She gripped the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer.

Someone in a passing car—probably a teenager—called out, “Get a room!” as they passed by, breaking the spell. Charlie and Will pulled back at the same moment, laughing.

“Hope you enjoyed the show,” Will yelled at the fading taillights.

Turning to her, he put out his hand.

“M’lady?”

Charlie took his hand, and they walked on, fingers intertwined. She felt a flush working up from her neck to her cheeks. This was not how she’d expected the night to end.

They continued down the sidewalk, taking the alley next to Charlie’s office around to the back stairway that led up to her apartment. Charlie climbed the first step and turned back to face Will. They were close to level height now. He put a hand on either side of the wrought-iron railing and leaned in, kissing her again.

After a long moment, he stepped back, fingers brushing against her cheek.

“I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

“Ask him upstairs,” Allie whispered. “You need human contact, Charlie. It’s not normal, living most of your life alone like you do. Plus, you wouldn’t shut up about his penis before.”

Charlie nodded, wondering if he could tell she was blushing in the darkness.

“Me too,” she said.

“Human contact. A person shouldn’t primarily socialize with the voice of their dead sister. Invite him in. Now.” Allie’s voice was a hiss. “Don’t you dare say ‘goodnight.’ I will revolt. I will spend all night singing a nonstop medley of annoying songs. I won’t let you sleep.”

Charlie sucked a deep breath into her lungs and let it out slowly.

“Goodnight, Will.”

As her feet rang out against the metal steps, Allie cleared her throat.

“You asked for it, Charles. So would you rather hear ‘Thong Song’ by Sisqo or ‘Who Let the Dogs Out’ by the Baha Men? I’m taking requests.”





Chapter Fifteen





Charlie woke the next morning with a throbbing headache. She made a pot of coffee and wondered if she’d dreamed the kiss with Will. All through her morning work hours, she pondered it, brief snippets of the night coming back to her, all of the memories strangely distant.

“No, the kiss was real,” Allie assured her. “And it could have been so much more if you weren’t so intent on living like a nun.”

Charlie said nothing, trying to ignore her.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea, you becoming a nun. The fact that you’d live with the other nuns would be sort of like having friends.”

“I have friends,” Charlie said, counting them off on her fingers. “Zoe. Will. Frank.”

Allie scoffed.

“You can’t count Uncle Frank. He’s family.”

“Fine. Zoe and Will.”

“Wow. You really got me there, Charles. Two friends. You think in maybe another decade you’ll be ready for a third?”

Charlie rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee.

“Have you even considered what you’re going to do when Frank’s gone?”

Charlie stopped drinking.

“I mean, even if he beats the cancer, he’s no spring chicken,” Allie went on.

“Stop,” Charlie said, her voice just above a whisper.

“What? It’s true. He isn’t going to be around forever, you know.”

Charlie thunked her mug onto the counter.

“I said stop it!” Her tone was shrill, verging on panicked.