“You sure you don’t care if I wait?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not at all. The remote for the TV is there.” She pointed to it, then started toward the bedroom.
“Why aren’t you with her?” he asked.
She stopped, turning back to look at him. If he hadn’t been looking right at her, she might’ve taken a minute to admire him. He looked like someone who would play the football star in a movie, not like a boy who would be sitting on her sofa in the middle of the night.
Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t go out much.”
“How come?”
“We have a performance tomorrow,” she said. It was almost the truth. She also didn’t go out because social settings only highlighted all the ways she was different, all the ways she didn’t fit in. She couldn’t afford to get distracted, not if she was going to join a company and make it as a professional dancer.
“Doesn’t Jules have a performance?” he asked.
Charlotte nodded.
He leaned back on the couch, his T-shirt pulling tight over his chest. “What a disaster.” He rubbed his face with both hands.
“What’s a disaster?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.” She lingered a little too long, her insecurity working overtime. Why did she suddenly want to know everything about him? “Do you want something to drink?”
He nodded. “That’d be great.”
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, tossing it to him and closing the door with her foot.
“Thanks for this.” He opened the bottle and took a drink, then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He shifted to get it out, flipped it open, looked at the screen, clicked a button, and tossed the phone on the couch beside him. He looked up, found her staring, and quickly looked away. “Sorry. And I’m sorry to barge in on you unannounced.”
She studied him. Sandy-colored hair. Long, dark eyelashes covered deep-set, intense brown eyes. Differently developed muscles than the ballet boys she spent most of her time with. Sturdy jaw. Really lovely, manly-looking hands.
She leaned against the wall. She should go to bed. She really did have a big day in the morning.
But something about him kept her from moving. He seemed broken, and she was overcome with the desire to fix him. “Why are you here?” she asked quietly. “Families don’t usually come until the final performance.”
He scoffed. “Well, our family won’t be coming at all.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?” Julianna’s parents always came. Cole didn’t though. He always stayed behind for football practice. Probably couldn’t be bothered with his sister’s ballet, which was a shame because if that weren’t the case, Charlotte would’ve met him sooner.
And she really wished she’d met him sooner.
“I really need to talk to Jules,” he said. “I need to make sure she hears this from me.” He sighed. “She’s going to be crushed.”
“Hears what?” Now Charlotte was worried. Had someone died? Was someone sick? Whatever it was—she could see by the look on his face, it was bad. And he was here out of genuine concern for his sister.
What would it feel like to have someone care about you that much?
The door behind Charlotte opened and Julianna burst in. “Charlotte, you should’ve come! Nico did the dumbest thing—” At the sight of her brother, Julianna stopped. “Cole. What are you doing here?”
His eyes found Charlotte, and she quickly understood what he was too kind to say.
“I’ll leave you guys,” she said. She slipped into the bedroom and lay down in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and trying not to eavesdrop.
The low timbre of Cole’s voice made it difficult to hear what he was saying, but after he spoke for a few minutes, she heard Julianna’s quiet sobs.
“That can’t be right,” Jules said. “Mom would not do that to us.”
“Jules,” Cole said. “I’m not making it up. Mom’s gone.”
Sitting here now, in the cab of Cole’s truck, Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to that sweet, kind older brother who’d traveled three hours to the city to track down his sister to make sure he was the one to give her the bad news that their mother had walked out on them.
In his place, there was now a cranky, irritating, angry man with no social skills and zero manners.
A man who gave up an entire day to take care of his brother-in-law’s lawn.
Charlotte shook the conflicting thoughts aside. “Yeah,” she finally said, answering his question. “That was me.”
13
So that was why Charlotte was familiar. They’d met several years ago. Why hadn’t she said anything before now? And why did he feel suddenly uncomfortable that she knew more about him than he’d thought?
He remembered that night. He remembered Julianna’s roommate—he’d been instinctively drawn to her for no good reason. Maybe he’d simply been in pain, and she was the one to show him kindness.
Whatever it was, Cole wouldn’t sort through it with her beside him. To that end, she spent lunch and the rest of the afternoon holding up both ends of the conversation.
And he unintentionally reclaimed his title as “Rudest Man in the World.”
Eventually, he noticed, she stopped being nice. Stopped asking him questions. Stopped trying to draw conversation from him. That well had run dry, as she unfortunately discovered.
When they finished the yard work, they stood in silence on the sidewalk, admiring their handiwork.
There. Now Jules’s house looked like it belonged on this street. No longer an eyesore of neglect, the cottage wouldn’t give away her family’s secret pain. Satisfied with their work, Cole strode over to the garage, closed the door, then gave Charlotte a wave.
“Thanks for the help,” he said. “I’m going to go check on Connor.”
He disappeared into the house, aware that he’d just dismissed her like she was the hired help and not a friend of his sister who’d just spent her entire day doing something simply because she wanted to help.
The next morning, after practice, Cole opened his refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs. He closed the door, pausing at the sight of Charlotte’s phone number, stuck on by an I <3 NY magnet Julianna had given him ages ago.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened a new message. He punched the number into the “To” line and typed:
Thanks for the help yesterday. You gave me a good idea.
He stared at the words, then deleted the second sentence.
Thanks for the help yesterday.
He clicked send.
He waited for a minute to see if she’d reply, then realized he was being stupid and shoved the phone back in his pocket and started making an omelet. Moments later, he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out, disappointed to discover a text from Bilby and aware that that disappointment was dangerous.
I was right. Asher’s at the donut shop.
Cole stared at the words for a moment, thinking of the idea he’d had yesterday, working with Charlotte on the yard.