16. Quentin

16

QUENTIN

T he bathroom door slams behind Charlie, and my heart shudders with it. I had no idea this wild child was a virgin. I never would have touched her if I’d known. It’s not right for a man my age to take something so special from her. She should be messing around with boys her own age.

The thought makes me clench my fists tight. I can’t think about Charlie being with anyone else, yet it’s impossible for me to give her what she wants.

Besides the age difference, Raiden would kill me if he knew I deflowered his little girl. It’s just not right.

I ignore my aching hard-on and turn off the shower. By the time I’m dried and dressed, I’m ready to face Charlie.

She may not understand why this can’t go any further, but she’s coming at it from the perspective of a twenty-two-year-old. I’ve been around long enough to know you can’t always get what you want in life.

Even if what you want feels so darn right.

Charlie is dressed when I emerge from the bathroom. She throws things into her bag without looking at me. Her body is tense and her shoulders rounded.

“Charlie…”

“Don’t.” She holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Quentin.”

She picks up her purse and dumps it on the floor, then busies herself with making the bed.

Her hair is wet and sticking to her cheeks, and she hasn’t done her makeup yet. She’s beautiful even when she’s angry at me.

Desire fires inside me, and I resist the urge to cross the room and throw her on the bed. If things were different, if she were older, if she wasn’t who she is, I could give in to my lust for her. If I was a different type of man, I would take her virginity and not care that we can’t be together.

But I’m not that man. I won’t give in to my selfish needs.

She looks so vulnerable bent over the bed with her hair still wet and her face makeup free. My heart aches for her. I want to cross the room and take her in my arms and say it can be different. But that would be a lie.

“We just can’t get into anything, you know that.”

She snorts and looks up at me. “No, that’s something you’re telling yourself, Quentin. But fine. You do you. I’m done.”

She grabs her makeup bag and heads to the bathroom. As she passes me, I step back and clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out for her.

She misinterprets my movement, and her eyes flash in anger.

“Don’t worry. I won’t throw myself at you ever again.”

“That’s not…” But before I can finish my sentence, she closes the bathroom door behind her.

I’ve messed this up. Instead of apologizing, I’ve managed to make her even more angry with me.

I run my hand down my face and it catches on stubble. I haven’t even shaved this morning. I never miss a shave. But we’re out of time. It’s another day at the festival, and I’ve got meetings.

While Charlie gets her face on, I head out to find us coffee.

There’s a pastry shop across the road, and they’re just putting out the first batch of warm donuts.

But as I bring the offering back to Charlie, I’m pretty sure even her favorite donut isn’t going to mend things.

We barely speak as we set up the truck. I get us breakfast again and Charlie gives me a half smile, but the warmth has gone from her eyes.

She perks up as soon as the gates open and customers arrive. She’s a natural at this, and I admire her ability to talk to anyone. Her confidence hasn’t been diminished by me being an asshole this morning. She smiles and chats with everyone who visits our stall, speaking confidently about our product and upselling like a pro.

She’s wasted working as a waitress in the restaurant. When we get back, I’ll speak to Travis about offering her a job in sales with the brewery. She’s got the personality and confidence for it, and her look fits the brand.

Her mood towards me softens as the day goes on. And I’m even granted a smile when I come back with a chicken burger for her lunch.

By the time I head off for my afternoon meetings, the tension between us has eased and we’re talking together like before.

My afternoon meetings are a mixed bag. I sign on another distributor, and a couple of minor pub chains take preliminary orders.

But my mind’s on Charlie. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her in the shower. How eager she was, how I made her dance on my palm. Then discovering she was a virgin. She’s not the wild child she makes herself out to be.

I don’t know if I did the right thing by pushing her away. I weighed the facts and made a split second decision that I’m sure is the right one for her. But it feels so darn wrong.

Perhaps when we get back we can spend some time together to see if this attraction is still between us. Maybe it will be different back on the mountain. Maybe I can take her out properly, spend time with her and get Raiden used to the idea. Or maybe she’ll realize I’m too much of an old man for her.

When I get back from my meetings, Charlie is subdued and thoughtful. It’s the last few hours of the festival, and the customers are dwindling. People are heading home, and some stalls are already packing up.

I catch Charlie leaning on the counter, chewing on the end of her nail as she stares out across the field.

“What you thinking about?”

She startles at my voice and shakes her head quickly. “Nothing.” She grabs the last remaining bottles on the counter. “Can we pack up? There aren’t many people left.”

We work in silence, clearing the counter and tidying away supplies. We’ve completely sold out of the award-winning beer and only have a few bottles left of the others.

It’s been a success all around and I should feel elated, but I only feel heavy as we pack up.

We drive in silence back to the hotel. I slide out of the van and head up the steps to the inn, but when I get to the door I realize Charlie isn’t behind me.

She’s standing by the truck holding her oversized purse in front of her. She carries the darn thing around with her everywhere.

“What time you want to eat? I’ll book us a table.”

She kicks at the gravel with her boot and doesn’t respond. An uneasy feeling creeps into my gut, and I backtrack down the steps to get back to her.

“What is it?”

She looks up at me with a sad expression. “I’m not coming back with you, Quentin.”

I frown at her, not understanding what she’s saying. “What do you mean? For dinner?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m not coming back to Wild Heart Mountain.”

The heaviness in my stomach is so sudden it’s like a punch to the gut. I reach out to steady myself on the side of the truck.

“You’re not coming back to the mountain?” As if saying it again will make it any less true.

She bites her bottom lip. “No.”

“But why not?”

She twists the handles of her purse, and I know before she says anything that it’s because of me. Because I let this go too far, and now she feels like she has to leave.

“Don’t go because of me, Charlie. I’m not worth that.”

She gives me a sad smile. “It’s not you, Quentin.” She looks away when she says it. “I thought I might find something different on the mountain, but it’s time to move on. And Santa Cruz is right there. I can get on a bus and be back at Mom’s by morning.”

I stare at her, the girl who biked on her own across the country to get away from California.

“But your stuff, your bike…?”

She shrugs. “I’ll sell it to Mel. She’s looking for a bike.”

Mel is the most recent addition to the old ladies in our MC. The city girl had never been on a bike before she met Davis.

“But you love that bike.” I can’t comprehend how someone can decide on a whim to leave behind everything they own.

Charlie shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It’s only a bike. I’ll buy another.”

“But…” She can’t leave. Charlie only moved to the mountain when her dad got married last year. She’s got a job, and I thought she’d made friends on the mountain.

“How about your dad?”

“He’s got his new family to keep him busy. I’ll still visit, but we’re both adults.”

“At least come back and see him one more time and get your stuff, think about it for a bit.”

She laughs, but it’s a sad laugh. “I have thought about it, Quentin. I’ve thought about it all day. I hoped I’d find somewhere to belong on the mountain, but I was wrong. There’s nothing there for me. It’s time to move on. I’ve made my decision.”

She shoulders her purse and steps toward me. “Goodbye Quentin.” She kisses my cheek, and her breath sears my skin.

“But wait.” I grab her arm and our eyes lock. This is when I should tell her to stay. But the words don’t come. What can I say? That I can’t be with her, but I don’t want her to leave. Even I’m not that selfish.

She searches my face, but whatever it is she’s looking for she doesn’t find it.

I release her arm. “How will you get there.”

“There’s an overnight Greyhound that leaves from town in a few hours. By the time I wake up, I’ll be in Santa Cruz.”

A few hours. In a few hours she’ll be gone. “At least stay and have dinner.” My voice sounds desperate, but I’m not ready to let her go.

Charlie shakes her head. “I’ll grab a hotdog at the station.”

“But…” I step forward and she cocks her head expectantly, waiting for me to say something. But there’s nothing else to say. I can’t ask her to stay. I can’t offer her anything.

She smiles sadly. “I’ll see you around.”

Then she turns and walks aways. I watch her go, her thick boots crunching the gravel, her hips swaying and her shoulders back. The shock of pink hair bouncing with every determined step.

I watch the only woman I’ve ever had feelings for walk away.

But I need to let her go. Charlie will forget about me as she gets older. She’ll find someone else, someone who can give her what she needs. I can’t let my lust for her be a reason for her to stay.

It’s the right thing to do.

Then why does my heart feel like it’s had sixteen rounds fired into it?