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I don’t wait for a response. Greeting the gathering crowd on the deck as I walk by, I enter the main dining room and look around. Nothing. Loads of people, but no brown-haired beauties. At least, none that I want to talk to tonight. But I have no choice. So I make small talk. Answer questions. Ask Mom if she wants me to hang out by the door with her. Get shoved away by my sister, who says I’m too intimidating.
Whatever the hell that means.
I need another drink.
And then I finally see her near the kitchen door.
She’s dressed in a long-sleeved cream dress. From here it looks like lace, but as she moves toward the crowd, I realize the dress just gives that appearance. I head to the bar and order two beers and head over to greet her. So much for playing it cool.
“Saved you the trouble.” I hand her one of the beers. “Did you come alone?”
Since she didn’t arrive with her brother, I assumed she would be with Lisa or her mom.
“Nope, I came with Devon. Just ran into the kitchen to congratulate Tris.”
She’s always been thoughtful like that.
“Why isn’t he out here?” she asks, then takes a sip of the beer. My beer.
“You know him. Tris is more comfortable in the kitchen than out here greeting guests. I told him he’ll have to come out every once in a while since he’s the owner. Poor guy turned pale when I suggested he give a speech tonight.”
I look toward the door. “Is your mom here?”
Chari and Devon are incredibly close to their mother, so I’m surprised not to see her.
“She sends her regrets. She woke up with a sore throat this morning and feels like crap. Looks like it too. I feel really bad for her.”
“Sorry to hear it.”
With the gentle buzz of conversation around us, music playing in the corner, there’s an atmosphere of celebration. Chari is all smiles, and I’m pretty sure I am too. If we were still kids, that would be the end of the story—two friends enjoying a fun night out.
But we’re not kids. Not anymore.
Chari is a full-grown woman, and I’m very much attracted to her.
And something has changed tonight. She’s no longer looking at me like her brother’s friend. So last night’s veil of indifference toward me was a front. Interesting.
We’re at a stalemate.
If she were any other woman, I wouldn’t hesitate. By the end of the night, her perfectly applied maroon lipstick would be a distant memory. Neither of us would have to wonder if our sexual tension was as off the charts as it felt at this moment.
That cream dress would sit in a heap on the floor, alongside every other piece of clothing we’re both wearing.
“There you are.”
Ah, there it is—the very reason I can’t do or say what I want to Chari has come up behind me, breaking the spell.
“Found your sister,” I say to Devon as if any other topic in the world were more interesting. Her expression, soft and inviting just a few seconds ago, morphs into confusion. I don’t blame her. I’m confused as hell too.
“Cool. Hey, Char, how’s Mom?”
I don’t even excuse myself, knowing Devon will get suspicious soon if I keep dodging him. But who could have guessed how awkward this situation with his sister would be?
Maybe me. And I probably should have. Seeking out Chari will actively ruin one of my oldest friendships, and I knew it even as I walked toward her tonight. And in The Wheelhouse this morning.
There’s no way this plays out well, and I can tell by Chari’s face she knows it too. Looking forward all day to seeing her, stupid. Seeking her out tonight, just as stupid. I’ve been playing with fire, and this is the kind of fire that could get us both burned.
For the rest of the night, I’ll talk to Chari as I would any other person in the room. Cordially. Sociably. Not like I want to jump her bones at any second. I’m not some kind of animal that I can’t accomplish this. It’s one night. Tomorrow, I’ll be back in New York.
