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“Chuck? You here?” Sam tossed his keys into the basket on the entryway table and bent to untie his shoes. “It smells great whatever you are doing!”
Nose in the air, sniffing like a bloodhound, he made his way to the kitchen. Charlotte stood at the stove, her back to him. When she didn’t turn with her usual ready smile Sam frowned. “Chuck? Everything all right?”
Stepping up beside her, Sam laid a hand on her shoulder, glanced into the pot she stirred, and dipped his head, trying to see her face.
“I’m all right,” she said finally, her voice strained.
“Don’t lie to me,” Sam said. “You’re shaking.” His heart speeding with anxiety, Sam grabbed her hand and extracted the spoon from it before turning her toward him. “Is your dad okay? Charlotte. You’re scaring me.”
Shaking her head, she pulled herself out of whatever daze she was in and blinked at him, then cleared her throat. “My dad is fine. I haven’t heard anything else since this afternoon.”
Sam released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Then what is going on?”
“I found the picture in your room.”
Sam frowned. “Which picture? I have tons. Mom gives me more every year.”
“You and I, at the wedding. I— What do you want from me, Sam?” She blurted the words as if holding them in her mouth would scald her tongue.
Sam let the hand drop from her shoulder, his gut squeezing. “What about that photo makes you ask me that? I don’t understand why you’re upset.”
She gave him a look that showed she doubted his intelligence. “Answer me. Do you...do you want to be with me, Sam?”
“Maybe.” He clenched his hands at his sides while his stomach launched itself into a free fall toward his feet. “Yes. It’s been something I’ve considered over the years.”
“Why did you never tell me?” Charlotte whispered.
“I suppose I was scared,” he said. Terrified would have been more accurate.
Drawing a shaky breath, Charlotte took a step toward him, reaching to thread her fingers through his. “I think I want to try, too.”
It was everything he’d wanted to hear for so very long, yet still, the niggling sensation of worry swirled in his gut.
“Not unless you’re really in, Charlotte.” He squeezed her fingers. “Maybe now isn’t the right time to decide. You have a lot on your mind.”
Charlotte stared down at their joined hands. “I want to be in, Sam.”
He closed his eyes fleetingly, unable to look at her. “You want to? Or you are?”
“What’s the diff—”
“There’s a difference,” he interrupted. The words bit out harsher than he intended.
Charlotte scowled at him. “Why are you so obstinate, Samuel?”
“You know me well enough to know if you want me or not, Charlotte?”
“I want you.” Charlotte took a step closer. “I haven’t been able to get that night at the wedding out of my head.”
Neither had Sam. His memory loved to torment him with flashing images. He woke with the feel of her soft skin, the roundness of her curves, tingling in his palms, only to find his bed empty.
“Chuck, I’m fucking terrified,” he whispered.
Her dark eyes widened. “Why?” she asked. Her voice was wire taut. As if a world balanced on his answer.
Sam swallowed. Why had he said anything? The words that made sense moments ago now tumbled in his brain like rocks in a dryer. Loud and empty.
“Because I can’t help but worry you might use me as a substitute for my brother.”
The blood drained from Charlotte’s face, leaving her caramel skin sallow. She stumbled back, her hips coming up against the counter. Hurt carved furrows across her brow.
“How could you say such a thing?” she whispered. Pain and fury flashed in her dark eyes.
“I know all about unrequited feelings.” Sam’s throat worked against the band of emotion hampering his breathing. “I’ve been suffering from them even longer than you. I know they don’t just go away. What if you only think you want me?”
Charlotte lost the fight against the tears forming in her eyes. Sam knew at that moment what it was to have his heart break. He’d ruined everything. He stared at her fingertips. They floated in the chasm between them, unsure and glossed with the tears she used them to catch. Then she let them drop away.
“I don’t understand.” The confusion in her voice drove another wedge into Sam’s heart. “I never even suspected until the wedding. Even that night, I thought we were lonely, caught in the spell. Then I saw that photo. And I talked to Carmen, and I find out you’ve been keeping this from me for so, so long. Why didn’t you just tell me?” Her voice came out high and sharp, close to hysterical.
Sam’s eyes slid closed. He was a coward. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t been such a fucking coward.
“I’m sorry, Chuck.” The words ground in his throat, sharp as crushed glass. “I wanted... I was selfish.”
“That’s the kicker, Sam. You’re the least selfish person I know.” She shook her head. “Finish your sentence. Tell me what you wanted because I need to hear you say it.”
“I don’t—”
“Tell me, Sam!” Her voice cracked sharp as a slap.
Sam winced, his fists clenching at his sides to stop himself from grabbing her. “You! Always you, Charlotte. Every time I laid eyes on you since I was sixteen, you were a big-mouth kid who followed me around. But, goddamn it, when you weren’t there, I looked for you and missed you so badly I ached.” The words were punched out of him, weighted by years of restraint.
Charlotte closed her eyes, features contorted as though the weapon of his statement had inflicted physical damage. “All these years?” she asked. “I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me. I can’t wrap my head around this!”
She made it sound so simple. As if a confession of feelings would have led to some happy fairy-tale ending.
“I couldn’t. Not with the way you looked at Sawyer. You pinned after him for years. How could I compete? I was older than you, weird and shy and...” Sam trailed off when he saw the flare of anger in Charlotte’s eyes.
She took a hard step toward him. “What competition was there, Sam? Sawyer never wanted me. It was a crush. One I’m destined, apparently, to be blamed for, for the rest of my life.”
The air left Sam’s body in a rush. Had he been using Charlotte’s feelings for Sawyer as an excuse? Blaming her all this time for something she had no control over?
“I never meant to hold it against you. I just... why would you go from wanting Sawyer to wanting me?”
He wasn’t sure she would see it the way he did or entirely understand. What he didn’t expect was her stalking forward and driving her finger into his sternum, her face flushing an angry mottled red with fury.
“You listen to me, Sam Stevenson.” She glowered up at him, small hands clenched at her sides as if at any moment she would pummel him. “I’m so sick of your woe is me shit. No one made you play second fiddle to your brother. That was all you.” Her chest heaved with the force of her anger. Hair wild and eyes searing into his soul, she was the most sensational woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
“You are kind, and you are sweet,” she continued, thumping her finger against his chest in emphasis of each point. “You have the most generous heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and God damn it, you’re sexy, okay? Just because your little brother could give Thor a run for his money doesn’t automatically make you an ogre! Stop being such a martyr.” Her palms connected with his chest once. Twice. Not hard, but he stumbled back, more from the blow of her words than the physical touch.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. Charlotte growled and gave him another shove. It was odd, Sam thought as he stumbled again. All the times he’d witnessed Charlotte fly off the handle, it had never been him on the receiving end of her wrath.
“Stop saying sorry!” she yelled. “Stand up for yourself. Accept that you’re amazing, for fuck’s sake!” Her hands hit his chest again, and Sam caught them in his, gripping tight to keep her from hitting him again. Charlotte struggled against his grip for a moment, then the fight went out of her as suddenly as it had come. She deflated against his chest, and Sam wrapped his arms around her. Charlotte allowed him to hold her against him, cupping a hand around her head. Her breathing still came in rasping pulls, and Sam rested his chin against the top of her head. An errant curl tickled his nostril, but he didn’t move.
“Thank you,” he whispered against the rose-scented knot of her hair.
She twisted to glare up into his face. “Thank you?” she asked, her voice thick.
“For always standing by me, for calling me on my bullshit.”
Her body relaxed against his slightly. “No one’s ever thanked me for yelling at them before.”
Sam gave her a weak smile. “I know it means you care.”
She was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Things keep changing, Sam.”
“I know, and they always will. The only constant, right?” Guilt kept its tenacious hold on him, sitting heavily on his heart. This change, the latest one, was his doing. Even now, the feel of her arms around his waist set his heart pounding. The blood rushed to parts oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. He shifted, putting an inch or two between them.
Charlotte sensed his restlessness and let her arms drop. “I should go.” The fierceness of moments ago had passed. She was deflated. Exhausted. He tried to catch her gaze, but Charlotte refused to meet his eyes.
“Chuck—” he started.
She held up a hand, interrupting him. “I don’t think we should spend any more time together tonight, Sam. I need...I don’t know what I need. A time machine, perhaps.”
“I’m sorry you regret it that much.”
She glanced at him, dark brows dipping together. “Regret what?” she asked.
“What happened between us?”
Her face went flat, devoid of all the emotions that had burned there moments ago. “Is that what you think? That I’ve been wracked with regret over what happened between us?”
Sam nodded. “Isn’t that why you’re angry with me?”
Charlotte’s sigh spoke of her level of frustration with him. “Sam, I don’t regret you kissing me. I don’t even regret nearly having sex with you.”
Sam swallowed, heat tense in his gut at the words crossing her lips.
“What I regret is,” she said with a sigh, “that you woke something in me I didn’t know existed. You’ve been living with this for years. I haven’t. But if you’d told me that night... maybe I wouldn’t have spent three months trying to bury those feelings back down, those curiosities. Maybe I wouldn’t have spent weeks trying to convince myself I was crazy for feeling the way I did afterward.”
Sam couldn’t find the words. Not the ones he needed to tell her what an idiot he had been. Not the ones that would make any of this better.
“I didn’t know what to say,” he whispered.
“You never even called,” Charlotte said. “I thought I was just a hookup, and when it didn’t work out, it was no skin off your back.” She shook her head. “I thought it was only me that things changed for.”
“I dialed your number or started a text to you every day,” Sam said. He took a step toward her, needing to reassure her it was real for him.
“Then why didn’t you?” She stared at him. “Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I didn’t know what you’d do. I thought you’d be angry. Or worse, you’d laugh and make a joke of that night. Part of me felt I’d taken advantage of you.”
“I’m a grown woman, Sam. If I didn’t want to kiss you, I would have said no. I wasn’t so drunk that you need to feel guilty about that.”
“I blew my chance at something I’ve wanted for seventeen years.” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t wish for or expect an answer from her.
Charlotte shoved her hands into her hair, yanking a few strands from the precarious top knot. “I don’t know. I literally know nothing right now. My dad is still in the hospital, and there’s Charles, who I like, and who likes me. He doesn’t look for excuses not to be with me. I just don’t know anymore.”
There was a current beneath the words she spoke. A depth of layers she’d left unvoiced. Sam sensed each one as if she’d said them. Charles pursued her, hadn’t allowed fear to dictate his actions. Sam stood still, his hope slipping through his fingers like grains of dry sand.
Charlotte’s phone blared to life, making them both jump. For a moment, Sam thought she wouldn’t answer. She stared into his face as if she didn’t hear it, then she shook her head. After taking the phone from her pocket, she swiped the screen.
“Hey,” she said. “Yes, we’re still on. I’m just leaving my friend’s place.” She was quiet for a moment, meeting Sam’s gaze one last time, then she turned away, walking to the door. “No, I’m fine. See you soon.”