Page 126 of Whirlwind

Chapter 1

Charlie

Charlie wiped down the taps one more time, though they already shone. It wasn’t like she could really hide from Carla anyway. He’d parked himself at the bar where it looked like he intended to sit until they opened in an hour.

“Any plans this weekend?” Carla’s voice was warm and upbeat. You could hear the perpetual smile even when you couldn’t see it.

“I’m pretty busy. Lots of work to do around here.” It was only partially true. There was always work to do and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a vacation.

After seven o’clock tonight, though, she didn’t have any plans. Nothing worth reporting to Carla. Why was he even here, with his laughing hazel eyes and carefree charm?

Charlie felt her cheeks flush, so she kept her head down. She couldn’t even look at him without tingles racing through her body.

She reminded herself that all of his flirting didn’t matter. The way that Carla had looked right at her once and said that his favorite kink was rope… It had looked like an invitation, but it couldn’t mean anything. It probably wasn’t even something that she’d like, right?

Though she might have looked it up once or twice. It looked… interesting.

It also looked like it was for young, skinny people, with flexible bodies that fit their designated genders.

Charlie was just a tired old butch, imagining things that would never happen. She threw the towel into the bin, since she wasn’t cleaning anything anyway.

Finally, she left the safety of the bar and began unstacking chairs from the tables. Carla followed, uncharacteristically quiet. He was standing too close, working the same tables with her. Her elbow accidentally brushed his side and the warmth of the contact lingered long after.

Why did she never know what to say around him?

He was always so talkative and open, easily flirting and making friends with anyone who came in. He was the draw that brought everyone in for trivia night, and in between rounds he chatted with guests like they were family. He’d often come early and stay late to hang around with her at the bar, telling stories about the silly teenagers at the high school where he was a social worker or sharing bizarre snippets from the news. He was like a ray of sunshine, and she could have listened to him all day. Not that she would ever tell him.

She was actually pretty good at chatting with people too, though she did it from the safety of the bar. She’d picked up the trick of listening, getting people to confide, and she could joke around with people she knew well. It was completely different from Carla’s easy sharing that brought a smile to everyone’s face.

She stole another glance as she moved to the next table. There was also something about the way he dressed that was just so… well, she didn’t know. He always wore collared shirts with bow ties and suspenders. Which should have looked masculine, except that the patterns were all paisley and flowers and pink stripes. Feminine materials from a bygone era, in a masculine style that made him look like a dandy from the roaring 20’s.

He always wore hats, too. Trendy, old-fashioned ones like French berets, or newspaper boy hats. He’d even worn a top hat one evening, paired with a black jacket with tails over a soft peach button-down. The whole ensemble made her think of words like dapper. Though she suspected that the word hipster would have applied, too. Not that she was keeping track of his clothes or anything.

She looked up before moving to the next table. OK, so she was noticing his clothes.

Today he wore a black collared shirt with little red squares and short sleeves. He’d paired it with red suspenders that curved just slightly as they traced the sides of his small breasts. Even with the binder or sports bra that she assumed he wore, they were still softly there, drawing her eyes. His tight, red corduroy pants and thick black belt did nothing to hide his gently curving waist or generous butt.

Sometimes when she watched that belt, she almost forgot to breathe. The way it was so dominantly masculine around such an alluring swell of hips. It was both confusing and sexy, or maybe confusing because it was so sexy.

Carla wasn’t who she was supposed to be attracted to, for a million reasons. So why was she always so breathless when he was around?

She noticed that his bow tie was coordinated in color today, though the diagonal red and black stripes should have clashed with the square pattern of his shirt. Yet they didn’t because they’d been paired so intentionally. She’d noticed that his neck was slender under the collars and bow ties, delicate against the manly style.

Naturally, he’d accessorized with a black cap from under which his silky, black bangs flowed even though his head was shaved around the sides. She wondered for a moment what that contrast would feel like. Would the clipped sides be spikey or downy? How would the longer tresses feel slipping through her fingers?

No, she wasn’t thinking about that. No matter how his eyes flashed out at her from under those too-long wisps of hair.

Now he’d caught her looking, too. He wore a little smile on his thin lips, like he knew a secret that he’d be only too happy to share if she’d just ask.

But she couldn’t ask. She could barely even open her mouth.

It was fine when they were discussing business. Carla had shown up four years ago with a business proposal: he’d host a trivia night once a week and keep half of any proceeds beyond the normal Tuesday night take. It had seemed like it was worth a try and even if it didn’t work, it wouldn’t cost Charlie anything. But it had been a roaring success, gaining them not only a dedicated set of trivia nighters and guests, but also committed regulars who came on other evenings.

In between, somewhere, they’d become… friends? Though none of her other friends made her pulse race like this. No one else flirted with her so outrageously or made her laugh so much. No one else showed up randomly just to talk to her.

Or stood so close.

She moved to the next table, trying to ignore the thrill of Carla’s presence.