Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“We’ve only been here two days.”
“Yeah, I might have a problem.” He laughed again and started toward the sliding glass doors. Darien looked like he had just come from a hike, too, with scuffed hiking boots crunching over gravel. His long-sleeved green shirt was rolled up, and his jeans were tucked into his boots. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Darien dressed like this, considering the only trails in NYC were the ones shared by pizza rats in Central Park, but he pulled it off like he’d been born hiking.
“A couple of days with fresh New England air and all of a sudden you’re a granola-crunching trail guide,” I said, smiling.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Give me a week, and then we’ll talk.”
We entered the brightly lit and neatly arranged pet store, walking past the colorful display of leashes and through the aisle of organic dog food. We walked under the oversized sign with a boozy-looking parrot pointing toward the freezer wall lined with local craft beers and wines. Up the stairs we went, entering into our barely furnished new office space. Darien already set up the front office, where his desk and chair sat, surrounded by stacks of boxes we had to unpack. There was a skylight above his desk that bathed the room in soft white light, leaving little need for any actual lights.
I dumped my box off in my office. It was much larger than the one I had in New York, with a window that had a stellar view of the mountain range, something else that I never would have gotten in my old office. I slid the window open and let the fresh breeze drift in. As I was admiring the view, movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I darted my gaze downward, toward a person I could have sworn felt familiar.
But that would be impossible. I came back to Blue Creek because I had heard Charlie left. Granted, I could have done a more thorough job making sure that fact was actually a fact, but…
No, it wasn’t him. He always talked about leaving, about going to open up an animal sanctuary somewhere or work with a zoo or a conservation program, all of those things requiring him to leave this town. Same way I had.
When he had pushed me out.
I left my office, deciding to stop thinking about him and focus on the move. I thought I had been okay with my past and the way shit unraveled between me and the boy who shattered my heart. I figured I’d suffered the worst pain I could ever imagine after losing Dean, so what did it matter if I had to experience a little discomfort in moving back to the place I had my heart broken?
As long as Charlie wasn’t around, then I’d be fine.
I walked down the stairs, feeling good about today and this move and the direction my life was headed in. This felt like the exact place I needed to be, no questions and zero doubt. Maybe I’d take the afternoon to walk around and really soak it all in. I wondered if people would remember me or if I’d changed enough in the past seven years that I wouldn’t earn a second glance.
I wonder if Charlie would even recognize me.
I’d changed from the lanky kid I’d been at twenty-one, when I left town. Getting my heart smashed into a thousand pieces ended up being a great motivator to getting my ass in the gym and eating right.
I turned down an aisle of cat supplies, lost in my own thoughts. Houston cawed a “hello” from somewhere near the front of the store as someone walked in, the bell jingling and Shelly also greeting them. I was so deep in my head, I didn’t realize the voice that answered them was an extremely familiar one.
Only when I turned a corner and saw him did it hit me.
And when I say hit me, I mean ran directly into me. As in the friendly (and familiar) voice carried directly into my chest as his face pressed into me. He stumbled back and quickly apologized, cheeks flushing pink in that way I always loved to see.
Bright blue eyes. Beaming white smile. A lone dimple. A strong chin and jaw.
A soul that could light up the darkest cave.
The first man I’d opened myself up to and closed myself off from.
“Hi,” he said. I blinked, shock scrambling my brain.
I spoke the only words I could pull together: “Charlie? Are you fucking kidding me?”
2
Charlie Marsh
Wednesdays were my Mondays which meant they were my hell. My bubbling, frothing, hellishy torturous day that marked the end of a weekend and the start of a workweek.
I gave my face an exhausted rub. My watch buzzed against my wrist, reminding me that I had less than ten minutes before I had to clock in.