Chapter 2: Charlie

My heart thuds, my stomach flutters, and a shot of adrenaline buzzes through my body.

Evan Holt is here.

Of course, I knew he was here the moment my taxi dropped me off in front of Zoe’s house. His black Mercedes with the tinted windows is parked in the driveway. 

But gah! I didn’t expect to have his Shamrock green eyes slam into me and steal my breath like I’m the same giddy, desperate girl from three years ago. 

Because I’m not.

I’ve been in New York City for eighteen months, completing my master’s degree in interior design. And hell if that wasn’t like parachuting into real life. 

I learned how to navigate the complex NYC subway. I pitched ideas and design concepts to executives at top firms. I made dating apps my bitch. 

And, perhaps my most proud accomplishment to date, I ate the worm from the bottom of a tequila bottle amid loud cheering in a Mexican restaurant on the Lower East Side at two AM.

In a year and a half, I evolved. 

But as my heart races and my palms tingle, it’s clear I haven’t grown immune to Evan’s charms. I glance at him surreptitiously, my throat drying as his presence causes anticipation to swim in my veins, mixing with old insecurities and a desire to impress him. 

He posts up against the wall in the living room, looking relaxed with a beer in hand and an easy smirk on his face. Dark jeans hug his thighs, a black cable-knit sweater wraps around his biceps, and he still defies the dad bod. Figures he would. 

“I can’t believe you came straight here.” Zoe grins at me when Maddie finishes her performance, curtseying so low I wonder if she’s going to fall. 

“After the message you sent threatening my life?” I quirk an eyebrow. 

Eli snorts. 

“Of course I came straight here. I haven’t seen you since you got pregnant,” I add, catching Maddie’s elbow before she teeters off-balance. 

Evan’s brow furrows. “You haven’t been home since before summer?”

I shake my head. 

“The big city allure?”

I chuckle, scrunching my toes in my thick, wool socks, to remind myself to be cool, to keep things light. “Something like that.”

He gestures with the beer bottle in my direction. “New York City is one of a kind. But I’m sure it’s nice to be home for the holidays.” His voice is sincere but casual, easygoing. Is he not affected by my presence the way I am by his? My body feels wound too tight, my limbs locking down as I mentally berate myself to be cool. 

“Yeah,” I agree, forcing myself to relax and lean back in my chair. See, this is easy. You can do this. Evan and I are capable of being two normal adults in a social setting. Who cares if every other thought blaring in my head is of him naked? I’m not acting on it. “My mom is so happy I’m back. I’ve really missed her.”

“Oh I bet.” Zoe squeezes my hand. “Marianne’s been baking Christmas cookies around the clock.  She watched Maddie last week and sent her home with two tins.” 

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “My mom adores Maddie.” 

“Still on your case about grandkids?” Eli teases me. 

“God, yes! After she met Maddie? Come on, it’s all she talks about. Especially since Drew is probably never going to settle down. Hell, he’s probably never going to stop deploying.” I grin at the mention of my brother, a badass Navy Seal who I haven’t seen in two years since he’s always in some faraway place. “And after —” I bite my tongue, my eyes darting to Evan. How much does he know about my past? I never told him about my ex-fiancé. 

Curiosity sparks in his gaze as he leans closer to where I’m sitting. 

I clear my throat, shrugging one shoulder at Eli. “You know how moms can be.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, glancing at Maddie and Ollie as they add more ornaments to the tree. 

Out of my peripheral vision, I note Evan’s frown. He’s interested. Is it for the sake of the conversation or because he’s wondering about my life, about me? My skin prickles under his attention, an awareness spreading through my limbs. God, how does he still get under my skin? Even halfway across the room, my body feels pulled to his, my thoughts centered on him.  

Maybe it’s because he’s nearly nine years older than me. Maybe it’s because he’s so damn successful. Maybe it’s because the sight of him knocks the breath from my lungs. Whatever it is, I’ve always struggled to play it cool in Evan’s presence. 

I sigh, turning my attention back to Zoe who gives me a sympathetic smile. “How long are you home for?” she asks. 

“At least a month, maybe longer, depending on how my interviews go.” 

Zoe grins, her eyes flashing. “I’m so proud of you, Charlie. I know you’re going to land your dream job. How could you not with that portfolio?” 

I blush from her praise, fully aware that Evan is listening to each word Zoe says. I showed her my final portfolio last week and reveled in her approval. 

“We’ll see. But I do have enough time to help you create the perfect nursery to welcome this little peanut home.” I place my palm on Zoe’s belly and her smile widens.

Eli groans, probably remembering the time and cost Zoe and I put into designing Maddie’s nursery. 

We all ignore him. Standing, I tip my head toward the kitchen. “I’m just going to grab a water.”

“Oh my God, I didn’t even offer you a drink!” Zoe exclaims.

“That’s because you were too distracted admiring these new highlights.” I flip my hair dramatically and point to my ass. “And being impressed that my ass still fits in these jeans.”

Eli snickers as Zoe laughs. “I’ve really missed you.” She struggles to stand. “Let me grab you a water.” 

“Stop.” I give her an incredulous look as Eli wraps his hand around her wrist and tugs her back down to the sofa. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I move toward the kitchen. “I know where everything is and I never want to be treated as a guest in this house,” I call over my shoulder. 

Entering Zoe’s kitchen brings a smile to my lips. She recruited me, the same way her dad and Eli did when renovating Shooters Pub, to help in every aspect of her kitchen design. Gleaming quartz countertops, exposed brick, and a ten-foot island, this kitchen is worthy of a magazine. 

I head toward the glass cabinet and pull one down.

“It’s good to see you again,” Evan says from behind me. 

I’m so flustered by his stealthy approach that I nearly drop the glass. 

In the next moment, he’s so close I can feel his breath fan across the back of my neck. He takes the glass firmly from my fumbling fingers. His other hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady. I flush under his touch before my limbs lock down, a ribbon of anger at my body’s response to his proximity flaring through me. 

As my past collides with my present, I feel suspended in time.

I close my eyes, effectively pinned between the countertop and Evan’s strong chest. Hanging my head, I inhale, fighting the urge to drop my head back against his shoulder and let him wrap his arms around me. 

But I know better than to do that. Sure, my body melts into his like an ice cream cone in summer, craves his like a drought begs for rain, and every cliché you can think of. But I know it’s just attraction, lust.

A memory of what was. 

There’s nothing real between us. He made sure of that. I practically gave myself to him with the fiery heat of a thousand suns, and he never let his guard down. He never let me grow closer. He never gave me an inch. 

Still, my mouth waters from the familiar scent of his cologne. The back of my neck tingles from the warmth of his breath. My body tightens in anticipation, every cell in my being humming with desire. Since Evan, none of the men I’ve been with, not a single one, managed to make me feel like this. This man knows exactly which buttons to push, which threads to pull, to turn me inside out and light me up like a firecracker. And my poor, needy, desperate body has no choice but to respond. 

His hand squeezes my hip once before he releases his hold on me and steps away, striding to the refrigerator to fill my water glass. 

I blow out a shaky breath and turn. He walks toward me, watching me carefully, curiously. When he hands me the glass, I manage a thank you before I take a sip. The cool water clears my mind, settles some of my nerves. 

“You’re really not moving back?” he asks in that direct, unabashed way of his. 

His gaze doesn’t waver from mine. I square my shoulders and stand up taller. “It depends on how my interviews go, where I receive job offers.” 

“Where are you interviewing?” He leans back against the kitchen island.  His body appears relaxed but his eyes, oh his eyes blaze, piercing me to my core. 

Intent. Focused. Gah. Having all that attention from Evan Holt is like being an ant under a magnifying glass in the middle of summer. He obliterates. 

I collect my thoughts before rattling off several companies and end with, “I hope to secure a position with Garner & Gibson.”

A ripple of interest crosses Evan’s face. “They’re all based in New York?”

“Yes.”

“You want to live there, permanently?”

“I don’t know yet. I’d love to live in the city for a few years, though. But I’ll apply to a few firms in Chicago, to make my mom happy.”

He nods, a frown twisting his mouth like he tasted something unpleasant. He opens his mouth to respond but his phone beeps. 

Frustration flickers in his expression as he pulls his phone from his back pocket. He must be crazy swamped at work, as always. But before, his eyes would gleam with interest, not annoyance. I move to turn so he can have some privacy but when he swears softly, I pause, glancing at him over my shoulder. 

“All okay?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose before running his hand down his face. “My babysitter, Kaylee, has a family emergency. She needs to go home earlier for the holidays since her grandmother isn’t well. It must be serious for her to leave so suddenly.” He raps his knuckles against the island, his body wound so tightly, it nearly vibrates. I can see his mind processing, turning thoughts over and over. “Ollie has another month of school before the holiday break. I just…I need to sort out after-school childcare.”  

Watching him closely, I wonder what happened to the man I once fell for. Sure, Evan’s always been a bit on edge, organized, disciplined, Type-A. But I’ve never seen him this rattled, especially over something like childcare for a ten-year-old. Since I’ve met him, I’ve seen him juggle a lot. Work and parenting, obviously. But also cooking dinner and being snack dad at Ollie’s soccer practices. He makes waffles on Sunday mornings and runs on a treadmill at four-thirty AM. He’s the king of multi-tasking and balancing.

His babysitter bailing is not the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “Do you have a backup?”

He clears his throat, picking up my water glass and taking a swig. “Of course. I mean, there are people I can reach out to, but Ollie is in such a good place with Kaylee. I don’t want to dump him with someone he doesn’t know that well. I don’t want him to feel like I’m dismissing him. But work’s been insane, I’ve got this fucking case…”

Witnessing Evan’s distress causes me to reach for him, the way I would have three years ago. Old habits die hard, and as much as I told myself I’d keep cordial space between us, seeing him stressed erases all my self-sworn declarations. 

I wrack my mind for a way to help when Ollie enters the kitchen. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks automatically, his eyes shifting between his dad and me. 

Evan sighs. “Kaylee just messaged me. She needs to head home to Kansas early.”

“Her grandmother was admitted to hospice,” Ollie provides, sounding decades older than ten. 

Evan groans, his face stricken. “I didn’t know it was that bad. She should have left already.”

Ollie shrugs, walking farther into the kitchen. He stops next to me and wraps his arms around my waist in the best hug I’ve gotten in ages. 

We both stare at Evan. I’m about to ask if his mom can come early for the holidays when Ollie’s neck snaps up and his face brightens. “I know! Charlie can stay with me, right, Charlie?” 

Evan’s eyes widen and alarm ripples across his expression. “No, Ollie. Charlie’s home to see her mom. She doesn’t have time to —” 

“I can hang with him,” I cut Evan off, volunteering without considering the implications of my words. Ollie’s smile widens and even though a part of me knows this is a really horrible idea, the genuine excitement in his expression has me thinking up all kind of rationalizations. I’m doing it for Ollie, not Evan. It will be fine; I’ll barely see Evan anyway. It’s just like old times and isn’t that what coming home is?

“What?” Evan asks, surprised. “You just got home. You’re on vacation. You’re —” 

“Available in the afternoons for the next three weeks or so. My mom is working then, anyway.” I shrug, glancing down at Ollie again. “There’s no one I’d rather kick it with than you, dude.” 

Ollie glances up at me and beams. “Really?”

“Totally.” I squeeze him closer. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Evan says quietly, but I see the flicker of indecision in his eyes, the one that wants to accept. 

“You didn’t. I offered.”

“God, Charlie. I mean, that would be huge, but that’s not fair to you. You’re home for such a short time, and I don’t want to take advantage of…” He trails off, unsure of how to continue. 

He doesn’t want to take advantage of me? Our shared history? What once was? 

Shrugging, I blow off his indecision. Eli’s work schedule is just as crazy as Evan’s and Zoe has so many doctor appointments to monitor her pregnancy she hired a nanny to help with Maddie. Not knowing who else Evan can reach out to if he doesn’t call his mom, I say, “Well, if you can’t find someone more qualified, the offer stands.”

“Please Dad,” Ollie begs. 

Evan winces and shoots me an uncertain look. 

I quirk an eyebrow, waiting. 

“You sure?” he asks. 

“I’m positive. We’ll have a killer time. Right Ollie?” I glance down at Ollie again. 

“The best time.” He bounces on his toes, waiting for his dad’s decision. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Evan agrees, his eyes darting between Ollie and me. His mouth twists painfully for a beat before pressing into a thin line. “Thank you, Charlie. Really.” 

“It’s not a problem. It’s something I’d do for any of my friends.” That’s the truth. I would offer to watch any of my friend’s kids in a heartbeat. 

The only issue is that Evan and I aren’t friends. This is the first time in years we’ve even managed to act friendlytoward each other. So why did I just stick my foot in my mouth?

Ollie whoops loudly and runs off to tell Maddie his news. 

That’s why. That kid right there is the reason why I’m willingly inserting myself back into Evan’s life after I spent many months trying to move past the pain Evan’s rejection caused. 

Evan steps closer, stopping in front of me. His hands raise tentatively, as if he’s unsure if I’ll flinch or melt under his touch. Slowly, he drops his hands to my shoulders and bends his knees slightly until we’re eye level. 

“I know I’ve said this a thousand times before,” he says, his voice rough, his expression solemn, “but it’s still the truth. I don’t deserve you, Charlie.”

I peer up at him, getting lost in the emotions swirling in his eyes. My gaze dips to his lips. Full, soft, and too kissable for his own good. I force my gaze back to his. “I’m doing it for Ollie.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up, at complete odds with the intensity in his eyes. “Thank you, Charlie.”  He squeezes my shoulders before dropping his hands and stepping around me, walking back into the living room. 

I watch him walk away, my head swirling with confusion, my heart racing. I raise the heel of my palm and rub the center of my chest as if the motion will smooth out my lie. 

Yes, my volunteering was prompted by Ollie’s enthusiasm to hang out with me. 

But deep down, a part of me offered to help because I hate seeing Evan in any kind of distress. 

Even if I don’t want to admit it to myself. And I don’t.