26. Phoenix

CHAPTER 26

Phoenix

T he call from Charlie had surprised me, but not nearly as much as the invite to come back to Creekside. Of course, I agreed to hop on a plane whenever I needed to without even thinking. After writing letters to Charlie for three months, I was ready to see him in person again. They were just letters, but I felt closer to him than I had in a long time. Once I started writing as if nothing had changed between us, things grew warm and fuzzy, just like they'd always been when it came to our friendship. Whenever I read those letters, that same warm fuzzy feeling filled my chest, and I found it hard to concentrate on anything else.

And, because Tony had to know what I was up to at all times, he made it a point to get the most out of the trip. He told me he was getting me a free trip home on the company's dime. But what ended up happening was him booking me for a speaking event up in Eugene during the week that I'd be back home. It was just one evening, but it felt like a massive inconvenience. And that meant Tony would be coming with me .

Still, it was difficult to turn down a free first-class ticket to Oregon and luxury hotel while we were in Eugene for the event. The whole ordeal added a hint of work to what should have been a visit purely for pleasure. I wanted to see my friend and pretend I was back in high school again with nothing in the world to worry about. But the truth was, I'd probably never be not busy again. Between signings, interviews, and speaking events, my schedule stayed fairly full. It was rare to pass a week without something to go to. Oh, and the publisher was breathing down my neck for another book. How the hell they expected me to write when they kept me run ragged was beyond me.

All that being said, I was determined to spend as much time with Charlie as possible. That's why, when I insisted on flying my bike across the country again and as soon as we landed, I took off toward Creekside. I'd already told Tony he could stay in my parents' guest bedroom. My mother was practically in love with him, anyway. But I made sure he knew that I would be completely unavailable for the entire week. And he, to my surprise and with a ‘I told you so' grin, agreed to leave me be.

So, when I pulled into Charlie's driveway without even saying hello to my parents first, I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. He hadn't explained why he wanted to see me, just that he thought it would be nice to spend some time together. Naturally, my mind went absolutely buck wild with that, dreaming up a billion different scenarios for why he might be calling me back home. Maybe he wanted to tell me his story, tell me off, or tell me to go fuck myself. All three were distinct possibilities. His letters led me to believe it was a good reason, but my brain wasn't fully convinced. There was still a lot of pain in my heart where Charlie was concerned, and I didn't fully trust myself. I'd forced my way back into his life last time I was home when I knew he wanted space. Was he just writing letters to appease me ?

I shook my head as I took my helmet off, combing my fingers through my hair nervously. I wasn't sure I was ready to face him again. But now that I was here, there was little choice otherwise. Besides, I'd barely put my helmet down on my seat before I heard the front door open behind me.

"H-Hey Nix."

It was a quiet and shaky hello. I turned back to return the greeting and fell silent, my jaw dropping. Charlie was… transformed . The last time I'd seen him it had either been at night or in a house so dim I could barely see his eyes. But now he stood in front of me in broad daylight and I truly saw him for the first time in years.

Time had done many things to Charlie Miller. He looked as if he hadn't gained weight since he'd woken up in the hospital, although his cheeks were fuller now and his skin no longer had that sallow look to it. His jaw had filled out a lot, making him all sharp angles and high cheekbones. Scruffy dark beard clung to his face looking as if it had been recently manicured just for me. His hair was shorter now too. When he'd woken up, it was nearly down to his shoulders, but now it shaved short on the sides and quaffed up top in a way that would make Clark Kent look homely. His frame was still thin, and his muscles were wiry under his oversize t-shirt, giving him the look of a runner.

The only thing that hadn't changed were those dark brown eyes. But the sadness I'd seen in them before lifted as soon as he saw me. It was replaced with a sparkle that I'd been missing for what felt like my entire life. He smiled as he stared at me, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets in a shy gesture that I'd forgotten I knew so well.

All at once, I wasn't scared anymore. If Charlie was smiling at me like that, everything was okay.

"Hey yourself," I said, pulling off my gloves and placing them on my bike.

He stepped out of the house, his bare feet making no noise on the concrete sidewalk. The smile on his face never faltered as he came to a stop in front of me, his hands still in his pockets.

"You… look good," I said at last, forcing myself to speak. "Happier, I guess."

"I'm feeling better," he nodded with a sigh, as if he'd been dying for someone to notice. "I've still got a long way to go, but it's… better."

I unzipped my leather jacket, pulling it off as the hot sun beat down on me. "What changed?"

Charlie's eyes worked up and down my body, my sweaty shirt clinging to my skin. "I uh…" He paused, his gaze flicking up to mine. "I started talking to a friend again."

I grinned, my body feeling so suddenly light that I thought I might float away. "OH? Someone I know?"

"It's you, dummy," he laughed, giving me a nudge.

I wanted to react more, but jumping up and clicking my heels together seemed like it would be a bit much. Instead, I just continued to smile, hoping he couldn't hear my heart pounding in my chest. Because that's all I could hear as the blood pumped through my ears.

"Why don't you come inside? It's hot as hell out here. Has been for like two weeks."

"Okay."

I followed him in, my eyes zeroing in on his butt as he led the way. It was easy to see that he was doing something to keep that ass tight. The moment the thought crossed my mind, I checked myself mentally. I'd been with the man for less than two minutes and I was already checking him out. What was wrong with me ?

Six years of pent-up feelings was probably to blame. While I'd gone out into the world and found plenty of guys to have sex with, my attraction to them was nothing compared to Charlie. I'd wanted him that first night we kissed. And for years before that. I was surprised to find that my attraction to him had never waned. And now that he was smiling and looking more lively than ever, I couldn't help feeling that familiar urge well up in the pit of my stomach again.

"Do you want anything to drink? I've got lemonade," Charlie said as we stepped inside. "Fresh made."

"Sure."

I followed him to the kitchen, noticing all the changes to the inside of the house. Last time I was there, it looked just like I remembered it as a kid. It was like a dark and dusty museum. But now the windows were open and light filled the rooms. Quite a few of his mother's decorations were gone and a couple pieces of furniture looked new. There was also the fact that the entire living room was covered in plastic, the trim was stripped away, and several buckets of paint sat beside a patch of wall covered in several swatches of color. One, a dark forest green, was circled on the wall.

"Doing some renovations?" I asked, trying to make conversation. I didn't want to come out and grill him about why he wanted me to visit. At least not yet. "Or just painting?"

"Yes to both," Charlie replied, fetching the pitcher from the fridge and glasses out of the cupboard. "I figured it was time to start making some changes around here." He filled a glass and handed it to me, our fingers brushing against one another. "It… It's time I stopped pretending this is Mom's house and started treating it like my own."

I stared at him, the glass stopped halfway to my mouth. "I'm proud of you," I said at last. "I can't imagine that was an easy decision to make. "

He nodded. "It wasn't. But I figure it's time, right? A friend said something to me a while back that really clicked and pushed me to start making some changes."

"It wasn't me, was it?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Who?" I was surprised to hear Charlie had friends, but I wasn't about to say that. "Do I know them?"

"It's Patrick."

"Patrick?" I scoffed. "Like the Patrick that asked me to suck him off in eleventh grade, Patrick?"

"Yep."

I felt my stomach twist into a knot, jealousy filling my brain. "Why the hell are you friends with him?" Even I noticed the defensiveness in my voice, but it was too late to take it back.

Charlie cocked his head to the side. "He's my landscaper."

"Is that all he landscapes?"

I immediately clamped my mouth shut, knowing I'd overstepped by a mile.

Charlie's face cracked into a wide smile. "Are you jealous , Phoenix McKean?"

"I… No , I'm not jealous!" I sputtered as he started to giggle. "I just… that guy's a dickhead. I can't imagine why you'd be friends with him in the first place! And, if he was… you know… getting fresh with you or something… well, you deserve better than that."

"Getting fresh? What is this? The late nineties?"

"You know what I mean. "

"Well, you have nothing to worry about. He has a husband and they're very happy together."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. "He has a what ?"

"Yeah. I guess my little talk with him after he propositioned you really got through to him."

"I… I have so many questions," I said, my brain short circuiting as I tried to process it all. "I didn't know you and him talked."

"We did and let's just say he's not only come into his own, but he's a good guy. Besides, we're not seventeen anymore. People grow up." Charlie grabbed himself a glass of lemonade and gestured me into the living room. "Come on. I want to talk to you about something."

I swallowed hard, following him into the other room. Here I was thinking that we'd just catch up and pretend like everything was the way it used to be again. But Charlie seemed ready to get to the point. I wasn't sure whether I was nervous, terrified, or excited. Probably all three at the same time. I truly had no idea what he was about to say to me, but in my heart, I felt that little flutter of hope once more.

Charlie pulled the plastic off the couch and told me to take a seat. I did as I was told, expecting him to sit in the chair across from me. Instead, he plopped down on the cushion directly next to mine. His thigh touched mine, an electric spark lighting up my body. When we were kids, touching was just a normal thing we did. But now it was like a rush of heat through my entire system. My cheeks burned and I fiddled with the glass nervously. I wasn't sure if I should pull away, but I knew I couldn't force myself to do it. Having Charlie this close again felt… right .

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to come all the way back here from Boston," he began, holding his glass with both hands between his knees. His gaze was fixed on the rug, and I could see his fingers shaking. "I was surprised you got out here so quickly. "

"Tony booked me a speaking engagement in Eugene this Friday," I replied, trying to fill the empty space. "That way I could write it off as a work trip. He should be here soon, actually."

Charlie's fidgeting stopped. "Are you and Tony… involved?"

I opened my mouth to tell him no, but then I stopped. It felt like a lie and Charlie deserved the truth.

"Tony and I are just friends," I said at last. "But–"

He inhaled sharply, bracing for impact. I felt him prickle beside me, like a hedgehog cornered by a cat.

"But in the past, there have been benefits on the side," I forced myself to say. "However, those stopped the last time I was here."

"What happened?"

"I saw you again."

Charlie's prickly exterior melted away in an instant. "Oh."

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No. I… I wouldn't have made you fly all the way out here for that."

I turned my head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of those beautiful dark brown eyes. "Talk to me Charlie. What's going on?"

He looked up, his expression happy, nervous, excited, and terrified all at once. It took him several tries to get the words out, his jaw working with no sound. But then, just barely more than a whisper, he finally spoke.

"I read your book."

My brows furrowed in confusion. "O-Oh."

He continued to stare at me until his words finally sunk in. I felt my fingers go cold and my eyes widen as I understood what that really meant. For a moment I tried to convince myself that he meant something else. Maybe he just wanted to tell me it was a good book. But knowing that my parents and Tony had figured it out, I had no doubt that Charlie could do it. He'd been front and center in several of the memories I used for inspiration. If anyone was going to realize what the story was really about, it would be him.

Fear twisted my gut and I suddenly felt like I wanted to vomit.

"It was a beautiful book," he said at last.

"Th-Thanks."

My hands were shaking so bad I had to put the glass down on the plastic covered table. I couldn't bring myself to look at Charlie. Instead, I focused on my shoes, realizing that I'd never taken them off at the door because I was a terrible guest. At the same time, I was far too conscious of Charlie's thigh touching mine and the heat of his body seeping through my jeans. Everything was so intense all of a sudden and I couldn't think straight. I knew I should say something. Anything. But nothing would come.

"It's about me."

I barely heard him, but I knew it wasn't a question. Charlie had figured it out, just like I knew he would as soon as Ted pointed out my glaring mistake.

A hand came to rest on my knee and I looked up. Charlie was smiling.

"I wish I hadn't lost that arrowhead in the crash," he said sadly. "It was a beautiful detail in your story."

Without a second thought, I reached up and pulled the leather cord that was always around my neck. Pulling it up and over my head, I lifted it until the small opal arrowhead came free of my shirt. Charlie gasped, his hand going to his lips .

"I w-wanted to give it back," I stammered. "B-But they wouldn't let me in your hospital room. And then… after a while I just kept it because… because it reminded me of you."

I held it out to Charlie, intending to give it to him. But instead of taking it, he merely knocked away my hand and threw his arms around me. Both of us fell back onto the couch in a tangle of limbs as Charlie attempted to squeeze me to death. I could feel him shaking as he held me, the world tilting wildly as a rush of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. I dropped the arrowhead, wrapping my arms around Charlie instead. He was what I wanted, anyway. What I'd always wanted.

"I thought it was gone," Charlie said, his voice muffled by my neck. "I thought you were gone forever. That I'd pushed you away. That I was… alone ."

I pulled back, grabbing him by the face and forcing him to look me in the eye.

"You don't have to be alone, Charlie," I said, my gaze bouncing between his dark eyes. "I've always wanted to be at your side. I understand if you need space, and I'll do everything I can to support you however you need to be supported. Even if I'm just your friend. But you and I have been through too much for me to leave you behind." I paused for a long moment. "Just let me in."

He struggled to form words, his eyes wide as he stared at me. "But… I… I'm damaged goods. I'm traumatized and broken and–"

"You are perfect, Charlie," I growled, cutting him off. "I wouldn't want you any other way. I care for you, scars and all. There's nothing you could say that would drive me away from you. Okay?"

He stared for a few seconds, searching for something.

"Okay," he said at last, sinking back down on top of me again and wrapping his arms around me. "I'm glad you're back, Nix. "

"Me too," I replied, stroking his hair. "Me too."

"Phoenix?"

"Yeah?"

Charlie lifted his head once more, staring down at me. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, his eyes darting down to my lips. Then, without a word, he leaned forward slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. And I did not.

Our lips connected and I felt that spark once more in my chest. Heat rushed through my body as I held him tight, forcing myself to be gentle with him. I wanted to kiss him in a way that made up for all those years of missed kisses. Like we were running out of time, and this was the last chance we had to do this. But I willed myself to contain that passion, letting this kiss between us be nothing but sweet and gentle.

And even that was almost more than I could take. I thought my heart would explode from the rush of affection I felt toward Charlie. My Charlie.

When he finally pulled away, it was far too soon. But I loosened my grip on him so he could sit up. He reached down, combing his fingers through my hair as a smile pulled at his lips.

"Do… Do you want to go on a date?" I asked before I could help myself.

His smile widened, the pink blush of his cheeks turning deep red.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I think I'd like that."