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“No,” I’d said to her, without explanation.
And like Charlee might have done, Mazzie had called me right out. “Well, that’s crap. You can’t live in the same town as the woman and not at least have one conversation with her about what happened. You can face down terrorists, but you’re afraid of talking to an ex-girlfriend. Come on, Lucas.”
Ouch.
So I’d said, fuck it. Let’s have that conversation.
And by conversation, clearly I must have meant dance. But Charlee did that to me. Always had. Inflamed me in a way that no one before or since her could do. It was as if the woman was made to drive me fucking wild, and ten years, unfortunately, hadn’t changed that.
But maybe I should not have chosen to have that conversation with Charlee in my arms swaying to a song overtly about sex.
“You confuse the hell out of me,” she said, her tits pressed up against my chest. They were as large and round as I remembered, but I would not think of titty fucking her right now. No, sir. I would not.
“Join the club, cupcake.”
I tried not to groan as all of it—the feel of her, her scent, the hours upon hours I’d spent, especially in those earlier years, longing for just one more taste of those sweet lips—began to make dancing with her slightly uncomfortable.
“What’s confusing about me wanting to talk to you?” she asked, her hands shifting slightly around my neck.
“Maybe you forgot. You broke up with me, remember?” I tried to keep my voice neutral.
“Of course, I do.” She pulled back to look at me.
Those damn brown eyes of hers. Big and framed by incredibly long lashes, they were both pleading and sultry at the same time. A siren’s eyes. You couldn’t look for too long without losing a bit of yourself. Or at least your resolve.
“I regret that, Lucas. I wish I’d been stronger back then. More sure of myself.”
Fuck.
To hear the words aloud. Ones I’d suspected she might say, which, if we were being honest, was the reason I hadn’t wanted to talk to her about it in the first place.
“It’s not good to have regrets, Charlee,” I said, holding her gaze.
“No,” she agreed. “It’s not. Eats you up inside. I won’t do it anymore. It’s actually one of the major tenets of my life.”
I couldn’t help smiling at that. In some ways, this was the same Charlee I’d dated. Even in high school, she’d had motivational stickers on her notebook. The fact that she would have “life tenets” didn’t surprise me at all.
“To not have regrets?”
“Exactly. To minimize them as much as possible. Think about how I might look back years from now and regard a decision. It helps quite a bit.”
“Does it?” I asked, skeptical. Seemed like a good theory that might be more difficult in practice.
She looked at me strangely as we moved to the rhythm.
“I don’t remember you being so cynical.”
“I don’t remember you being so goddamn sexy, but here we are. Different people than before.”
Her eyes widened, as they should. But if Charlee thought I was one to pussyfoot around a topic, she’d learn otherwise pretty quickly.
“The military changed you.”
“Inevitable,” I said.
“I want to talk to you about it.”
The song came to an end. “Talk to me about what?”
