Remembering Phoenix (17 page)

She lets me in only to shut me out.

Lucky for her, I’m always up for a challenge.

We’ve spent as much time as possible learning about each other—in all the ways. I told her all my best memories growing up. Like the time Stetson and I stole Mom’s car to go to the local convenient store. We attempted to buy alcohol, but failed miserably. Gail, the owner, had us thinking we were going to be able to get some…until our parents walked in the store. We got our butts tore up, but I swear, looking back now, I can’t help but laugh at how stupid we were.

We’ve learned each other’s quirks, likes, dislikes, and everything in between. She likes to argue. I think she’s sexy when she argues. I pick arguments with her for that very reason. I make up for it afterwards. She can’t resist the things I can do to her. She’s tried fighting it—us—but I always win. I draw her back in, because whether she likes it or not, I know she doesn’t want to stop whatever this is between us. I think I’m finally making her realize it’s okay to feel okay
.
At least I hope like hell I am.

I grab the coffee from the barista and stuff a tip into the jar before walking out of the coffee shop.

It’s early. So. Damn. Early.

I get to my truck and climb in, placing the coffees in the cup holder. After typing the address to the church into my GPS, I head out. Traffic is light, too early for the nine-to-five commuters to pack the road.

I maneuver through the empty streets just as the sun starts to come up. Oranges and reds paint the early morning sky a fiery glow.
Like a phoenix
.

I pull into the old abandoned church. It’s wooden and painted white, but the paint is chipped and worn from years of weathering the elements. I kill my truck and hop out, balancing the two cups of coffee in one hand. It’s cold, a little below freezing. My breath flows visibly in front of me as it collides with the cold air. I walk around the back of the derelict church slowly, not wanting to make a sound. Then I see her. Snapping away as a woman sits in a torn and tattered wedding dress on an old, dilapidated pew that’s seen better days.

“Explain the day you got the heartbreaking news,” Charlie says. She continues to snap away. I stand back a half step so they don’t see me. I want to watch her in her element, one where the mask is off, and the raw her shines through. She’s a natural in the way she moves and talks to the client as she snaps away on her Nikon.

I can hear the woman in the wedding dress speak, but I pay no attention. I’m too focused on Charlie. Her hair is braided and thrown to the side of her head, with a black, slouched beanie covering her head and ears. Jeans and Chucks cover her legs and feet as a black coat shelters her from the cold March air.

She snaps some more, crouching to get shots from different angles. The sun still rising in the eastern sky, shines directly on Charlie’s cream skin and rosy cheeks. Her face glows, even more stunning than I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know it was possible.

She has no idea I’m here or that I even knew she’d be here. But when I went into her office the other day, I caught sight of her planner. I had Paul go out to the worksite early so I could head out a little later. I wanted to do this; see her doing what she loves to do.

I’m so caught up watching her I don’t notice her client getting up, pointing this way, until Charlie spins on her heel towards me. Her eyes wide with fear until they lock onto mine, then a smile flashes across her face. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

I start walking towards her and hold out the coffee for her to take. “I wanted to bring you coffee.”

She takes the coffee, drinking a sip. “How did you know where I’d be? Or that I even had a photo shoot today?” Her voice drops off at the last question as she realizes she never told me about this.

I shrug. “Your planner. You write down information very well. Bravo Miss McGee.”

She laughs and I lean down, laying a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I see why you love morning sessions. The morning sunlight against your skin—stunning.”

She blushes. Looking up at me through those thick lashes, she tucks a stray piece of hair under her beanie. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“You can—“

Her client clears her throat. “Sun is almost all the way up.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m leaving in just one second.” I hold my finger up. “Just one more thing.” Bringing my free hand up, cupping the side of her face, I bring my mouth down to hers. I kiss her gently and whisper against her lips, “Missed you.”

I walk into the house and throw my keys onto the counter. It’s quiet.

I wish Charlie was here.

I smile at the thought. It’s scary, downright insane, that she’s warped her little self into my life in a matter of months.

Over four months have passed since I first laid eyes on Charlie. She’s changed me, made me see the world from such a different perspective. I no longer get so consumed with me and my issues. Because as badly as I’ve been hurt before, someone always has it worse.

It’s taken me a while to realize that all Jodi put me through wasn’t for nothing. Yeah, I hate that she did it. I still miss Claire, but knowing she’s okay, taken care of, and loved, is all I could ask for. I have solace in knowing she’ll grow up to be happy.

What happened with Jodi was for a reason. I went into the bar that night for a reason. I didn’t know it at the time, but the reason was Charlie. I don’t think she was put in my path for me to save her or pick her up out of the darkness. She’s fully capable of doing that herself. I think, maybe, she was put in my path for me to help her see the beauty that is around her in spite of the ugly life has thrown at her. The most beautiful people go through the ugliest of situations. And Charlie McGee is the most beautiful damn woman I’ve ever seen.

I don’t think she realizes that she’s strong. She’s so damn strong. She’s fought almost two and a half years, going through life while having to learn and make new memories.

Making it through life in general isn’t always easy, but add the pressure of having no memory and heartache on top of it, it has to be nearly impossible.

But Charlie does it.

After taking a shower, I climb in bed. I try to fall asleep, but my mind keeps spinning, thinking about Charlie.

We’ve spent so much time together lately. So much time, yet it feels like it’s not enough. Last week, we went to Klyde Warren Park and just sat for hours, watching the waterfalls. It’s amazing how in a city with over a million people, it felt like we were the only ones around. Everything is easy with Charlie, which is a bit ironic for a girl who is about as complicated as they come. But it’s true. Nothing is forced between us. We just work.

I grab my phone off the dresser, and text Charlie.

What are you wearing?

The bubbles start flashing across the bottom of my screen.

I’m in bed, so you guess.

I groan, knowing it only means one thing—t-shirt and panties.
Fuck.

Why aren’t you here? I’d love to rip that shirt and panties off of you.

I have a home you know?

I laugh at her diversion. Texting or talking about anything remotely sexual is not her thing. She does what she does best—deflects. She gets shy, like we haven’t already seen every inch of each other’s bare bodies. I think it’s the cutest damn thing. Her cheeks get flushed, and she draws her shoulders up, as if she’s trying to hide.

I punch in her number in my phone. The phone rings several times, and I think for a second she’s not going to pick up.

“Hello?” Her voice is hushed.

“What are you wearing?” I ask, smiling at myself.

She laughs lightly. I can see her now, covering her face. She’s embarrassed. “I’m so not telling you.”

“Okay. Okay.” I roll onto my side, propping my head up on my arm. “I called for a reason. Not just to embarrass you.”

“Reason being?”

“I missed your voice.” I smile.

She laughs loudly. “Smooth. But I’m calling your bluff, pretty boy.”

“Pretty boy, huh? I’ll show you pretty boy.”

“Tell me what you really called for,” she says.

I sigh. “Well…I just need you to help me get stuff for this going away party that Stetson insisted I have at my house.”

She giggles. “Lizzie told me about that. Such a sweet soul, inviting people into your home.”

I smirk. “I was coerced.”

“Sure you were.” She pauses. “I hear Abby is coming.”

I swear I can hear her smile as she says her name. “Yeah, well it’s a good thing I don’t want her.”

I hear rustling in the background just as she says, “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was, uhm... I knocked some stuff off the nightstand.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, I hear a rattling sound. It takes me a second to figure it out, but when I do, my stomach sinks.

I’m no stranger the sound of a pill hitting the bottom of a bottle. I’ve flushed more pills down the toilet so my brother wouldn’t overdose than I know what to do with.

Knowing Charlie takes highly addictive drugs terrifies me. Not that I think she abuses them, but because I know it can make a good person lose their way. Becoming an addict isn’t completely a choice. It happens before you even realize it, and once it’s happened, you can’t just walk away. You have to fight for it. Most people don’t even fight. Your loved ones can beg and beg until they’re blue in the face, but an addict will never get better—not unless they have the will to.

“Are you okay, Charlie?” My eyes narrow in concentration. I’m an idiot. It’s not like she can see me.

“Yes,” she replies. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice falters, and I know she’s nervous. Hell, I am too.

“Do you have a migraine?” I ask. If she has any hesitation, I’ll know that I should be worried.

“Yes.” Her answer is firm, no hesitation in her voice. My worry eases a little. It’ll never go away, though. I’ll always worry about Charlie, because that’s what I do with people I love.

Whoa.

People I love.

Do I love Charlie? I look over at the empty spot on my bed, and realize just how much I want her there. She should be in my bed every single night.

My chest aches at the thought, and it only tells me one thing…

I love Charlotte Blake McGee.

I hate company. I hate people invading my house. But my brother all but begged me to let him and Lizzie have their going away party here. I agreed, only because the dumbass already told Lizzie I said I didn’t care. I’m not about to look like the asshole, so that’s why there are twenty some odd people in my house. Most of which I do not like.

Thank God Charlie helped me buy stuff for it yesterday, or I would have been lost. Apparently buying ham, cheese, and bread doesn’t suffice for party food. Who would have known?

I scrub my hands up and down my face before checking the time, ready for Charlie to get here. She couldn’t get here until eight, and everyone else showed up at seven. I’ve been stuck in my room for almost forty-five minutes because I’m not ready to face the fact that my house is flooded with people.

I toss my phone on the nightstand before standing, tucking my black button up in my jeans and buckling my belt. As I roll the sleeves up to my elbow I hear the bedroom door open. Charlie stands at my doorway with her blonde hair hanging loosely down her face. A black dress hugs every delicious curve of her body as she sways from side to side nervously. My cock twitches in my jeans at the sight of her alone. “Fuck,” I groan.