Authors: Aimee Laine
Wyatt nodded, but the cringe and slight shift of his head tore at Charley’s heart. Wyatt slumped lower in his chair, but tension emanated in invisible waves from James and Cael.
She let the smile grow inside as memories of that month surfaced. She’d have to keep them tucked away or risk their cover.
“Shall we move to the dining room?” Lily’s chair squealed against the floor as she slid off.
Charley recognized the diversion. While Lily showed Stuart the way, James and Cael followed.
With a quick sideways look from James, Charley leaned into Wyatt’s shoulder and bumped him with her hip. “You okay?”
“I shouldn’t have brought him. He’s on a roll, and there’s no telling what’ll come out next.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook it so it settled back down into place. A few cowlick spikes remained.
“It’s okay, you know.” Charley patted his bicep, firm under her palm, and leaned her body into his. “He’s nervous, is all. We all find ways to deal.” She kept her lips close to Wyatt’s ear. “Seems his power of speech improves.” She giggled.
Wyatt turned toward her so their lips came within a breath. “My Mom really did live here for a bit before she met my Dad—well, the guy I call my Dad.”
Lily poked her head back in the kitchen. “C’mon guys. Dinner’s on.”
The clink from glasses, plates, tableware and chairs as they slid on the hardwoods, along with mixed conversation, reached them. Together they pushed back from the island, shifting off their stools. Before they crossed into the dining room, Wyatt turned Charley to face him.
“Ah, I have a question.” He ran his hands up and back down her arms, sending a tingle of interest elsewhere.
Charley shivered under the touch—more than she’d experienced with him, other than a simple link of fingers. “Go ahead. Ask. Anything.”
He rubbed at the side of his nose. “Uh … well … is Leena hooked up?”
Charley grinned. “You mean in a relationship? I don’t think so.” She knew very well.
“Um …” Wyatt’s gaze redirected to the doorway. “Do you think she’d be willing or interested in going to the dance with Stuart?” Wyatt twisted his mouth in that I-can’t-believe-I-just-asked way and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Charley started to speak but stopped as his gaze returned to hers.
“He doesn’t have a date, and we kinda planned to crash it together, ’til … well … you agreed to go with me.”
“Ah, gotcha.” Hands on his hips, she turned him around to push him forward. Before she could let go, she laid her head against his back, firm and smooth under her cheek. “Let me see what I can do.”
4
The dining room table could hold fifteen with all its leaves. Lily set it for six. A buffet, hutch, sideboard, mirror and wood-back chairs—custom designed and carved by James—lined the outer edges of Venetian plaster walls. Lily called it a room fit for a king. Both Cael’s and Charley’s artwork adorned the space, but Lily’s design, the reds mixed with golds and browns, created the space.
Wyatt stopped a foot from the entry. “Whoa,” he said.
“You like it?” Lily’s grin beamed through the room like sunlight through a window.
Wyatt stood in front of a canvas and traced his finger in the air along the single-line silhouette of a woman’s form. “He’s a good artist.” His hand rested midair at the signature.
Charley stole a glance at James, who smirked back at her.
“She. Charley is a she,” James said.
“That’s cool,” Wyatt said.
James scratched the side of his nose, hiding the smile aimed Charley’s way behid his hand.
Lily stood at the head of the table, drumming fingers along the inlay of her chair. “Shall we eat, then?”
They all nodded.
“Good. I have to explain some things.” She moved to the side, pulling Stuart along with her.
Charley stood with Wyatt to one side, James and Cael at the ends.
Only Lily would create a meal that required direction. She pointed, gestured and maneuvered until even Charley’s head spun with the instruction on sauces, the difference in the reds and greens, and which vegetables worked best with the different flavors. Why Lily opted to make four different pastas in various hues or marry them with separate sides, Charley would never know or question.
Once everyone settled with their unique plates of food, Charley prepped for the question. “So, Leena.” Charley bit into a morsel of decadent chicken.
Lily popped a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Hmmm?”
“There’s a dance coming up at the end of the week.” Charley picked from between grapes and blueberries, her fingers at play over the bumps and colors.
“Mmm, hmm.” Lily’s murmur came from a full mouth.
Charley swirled pasta onto her silver fork, dipped it into both of her green and red sauces which she guessed to be avocado and roasted red pepper. “Since Wyatt, Stuart and I are going, we thought you might want to join us.”
Lily’s eyes alighted with excitement—a sucker for a party. “Cool!”
Cael shifted in his chair. Stuart’s jaw dropped open, his own utensil of pasta held ready at his lips.
Lily hesitated before she bobbed her head forward and chewed longer than necessary. “We’ll have to go dress shopping.” She pointed at Charley with another red tomato between her fingertips. “You know that gown shop on first, downtown? I soooooo want to go there.”
Code for you’re going to pay
.
Charley shifted her gaze toward James and Cael. Their worried expressions mirrored each other—one a frown, one a grimace.
Lily hadn’t been home the day she’d told them about the dance. They’d both stormed through the house; anger bellowing through the halls. Their response had been worse than when she’d registered at West as Mira, a foreign exchange student from New Zealand. Lily had gotten a kick out of the planned ruse.
‘He still wouldn’t be eighteen,’ James had said once and again. ‘He can’t make that kind of decision until he’s an adult,’ Cael repeated. Charley countered that she would walk away if and when she agreed with them.
It had taken her three months to convince James and another two to get Cael’s buy-in, not that she needed either. She wanted them to support her need to know if she and Wyatt could have a future together.
“You don’t have to go with me, Leena,” Stuart said between bites.
Charley glared at Lily.
She giggled. “Oh no, Stuart. It’s totally, cool. I’d love to go.”
“Sweet! So, do you guys, like, have parents? Cause like mine would never let me have guests—’cept for Wyatt—when they aren’t around. S’cool an all. I was just wondering.” Stuart took another forkful of dinner.
“We do.” Cael spun the pasta sauces tray on the table until the red ended up closest to him.
“They’re in Africa right now.” James spun it back around and smiled, pouring the remainder of the cream sauce on his second helping.
Stuart dug further into his own goodies. “They let you guys have an exchange student?”
“Timing issue.” Lily sipped her tea. “Couldn’t not give her a place to stay.”
“So … think they’ll let you stay out all night, Leena?” Stuart asked.
She shrugged, but Charley caught the humor in her eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”
Stuart directed his noodles at Wyatt. “Eighteen, out all night. It’s gonna kick.”
“When’s the dance, exactly?” Lily asked.
“Friday night,” Charley said.
“That’s the night before your birth—” Lily stuttered to a halt. “Uh … the night before you leave, Mira.”
Charley caught Cael and James’s intake of breath. She hadn’t told Wyatt of her departure plans or that they shared a birthday. His smile fell. She hoped the expression came because she’d leave soon, not that he’d picked up on Lily’s slip.
“Dessert!” Lily’s announcement pulling them all up from the black-hole funk they’d fallen toward.
Cael relocated a silver tray loaded with a variety of pastries, chocolate and cream-filled sweets from the buffet to the table. Lily pushed it to Stuart, then Wyatt, before she moved it to the center and left it open to the entire group. Unlike dinner, no directions preceded its delivery.
Lily’s bright eyes filled with sweet deviance. “You guys want to watch a movie?”
Charley smiled into the cup she held between her palms.
Stuart’s eyes lit like Lily’s. “You got action for that sixty-inch out there?”
“Oh, yeah.” Cael laid one hand on the back of Lily’s chair. “And the subwoofer’s bass shakes the entire house.”
“Sweet!”
All four boys loaded their palms with sugary goodies.
• • •
Charley moved with Lily to clean up. Wyatt and Stuart followed Cael, James close behind. Charley caught James’s gaze before he turned the corner.
“Be careful.” His whispered words reached her with ease.
The warning came not from over protectiveness.
“It’s not my birthday today … Jack. I can do whatever I want.” She smirked as he disappeared.
In a teen’s body, Charley would have to deal with all its hormonal nuances. When she’d been in the same position before, at midnight on her birthday, her lack of control around Wyatt left her vulnerable.
The boys flipped through movie channels and their own collection while Charley and Lily cleaned up. The repetitive wash, dry and organize process gave Charley a moment to breath and to think.
“I’m so sorry, Char—Mira. Do you think he noticed?”
“No. He’s hung up on me leaving. The fact you almost blurted out my birthday is inconsequential.” Charley rolled her eyes, bumping her hip with Lily’s. “Don’t worry about it.”
“’K. Going to take him up to the balcony?” Rag in hand, Lily circled the last of the plates and stacked them in the cabinet.
“Yeah.” Charley’s mind wandered to all manner of possible scenarios, though she’d vowed to let Wyatt lead her. For once in her life, she liked being at someone else’s mercy.
Lily turned with bowl in hand. “I don’t know how they eat it all, but I’ll keep ’em full. You have fun. Popcorn!” She disappeared into the living room.
• • •
Charley circled back through the dining room, into the foyer and back to the living room’s other door. Wyatt sat, relaxed but apart from the group as if in wait for her. James and Cael sprawled, their legs stretched and crossed with Lily between Cael and Stuart.
“Psssst!” Charley cupped her hands over her mouth. Stuart might not hear her, but the rest would.
Wyatt turned, grinned.
Charley flicked her head back as if to say ‘come on!’
He twisted to Stuart, whose gaze stayed fixed on the screen. Without a word, he rose from his chair, moved in Charley’s direction, and the rest of the group gave no sign they’d heard.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” Her smile grew wide.
Charley grabbed his hand, tugged him up with her. They scurried up the stairs two steps at a time.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Wyatt slowed on the second floor, where art adorned cloud-grey walls. “These are amazing.” He shifted from one side to the other, tracing air again in line with the many silhouettes framed in solid black.
Each of her family members had a gift—Lily in the kitchen, Charley in oils, Cael in watercolors and James with wood.
“They have so many … it’s like an art gallery in here.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda cool.” Charley pulled him forward.
Ten pieces of art and nearly twenty feet later, they reached her door. Hand on the knob, she hesitated, blew out a breath and pushed it open.
Wyatt followed.
Across the room, glass doors stood open to her balcony. Long sheaths of translucent white fabric draped across a wrought-iron rod and blew in the breeze. A duvet of sky blue covered the bed, bunched at the edges where the four-poster, walnut frame reached to the ceiling. Art adorned ivory walls, the design broken only by companion dressers and an antique desk Charley had owned since childhood.
They walked past it all and stepped into the night. Stars twinkled above the tree branch buds; night birds sang their evening lullabies.
Charley’s arms snaked around the back of Wyatt’s neck. His wrapped around her waist as they pulled themselves toward each other.
She hesitated with the realization she’d started their activity. Wyatt held her tight when she tried to pull away.
“It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful,” he said.
Charley smiled. “It is.”
The sounds of the night engulfed them: bullfrogs croaked, crickets buzzed, and the breeze shivered through brush.
He slid his cheek against hers. “Are you sure you have to go back?”
“No. I can stay up here.” She misinterpreted on purpose.
Wyatt laid his forehead against hers. “I mean back to New Zealand.”
“Let’s not talk about that.” Charley pressed against him, swayed to one side and back.
In time with her, his body shifted side to side.
“Practicing?”
“Sure.” She touched her cheek to his shoulder. They moved in silence, lost in an unheard love-song.
“Can you stay?” His voice infused sweetness, but Charley heard desperation.
Yes.
“No.”
Wyatt pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. She wanted back in, having lost the warmth from his body. More than that, he’d torn her from the only memories she wanted to keep.
“Why not? Can’t you get a visa or something? A green card?”
“I have a visa. But I have family to return to.” She tried to keep her answer simple and truthful, but she shook with a chill as she anticipated his response.
“What about me?”
What about me?
What Wyatt didn’t know, the promise she’d made, it all fell to the moment before her—a time and choice she’d hoped she’d never face.
Charley stared back at him, though her resolve wavered. “We’re friends, Wyatt. We can always stay friends, but my time here was never meant to be permanent.”
“Friends?” He spat the words. “Just friends?” He dropped his arms, and Charley shivered.
She knew he’d see, wondered what he’d do. “More, I think, but you’re young. I’m—young.” She laid her hand over her heart. “Can’t we just enjoy our time together?”
Wyatt pulled her back to him, crushing her against his chest.
Oh thank god!
She wanted to cry out but bit her tongue.
“I don’t want to just enjoy it.” Into her hair, his fingers reached through curls she’d left down. His hands moved forward so he held her face in them. She reached back around his neck.
Wyatt drew closer. His sigh blended with hers. “I don’t want to.” His palms held firm against her cheeks, but the softness returned.
She agreed with him, didn’t want their time together to end, either, but her promise would not be broken.
Charley closed her eyes, committing the moment to her mind—his touch, his cologne, the blue of his shirt, how she fit in his arms. Their closeness would be only a memory in a matter of days.
She met his gaze with absolute clarity. She would not make her choice permanent until Wyatt could accept the truth about her.
He drew a quick breath before he tugged and drew her face up to his, tilted his head in the opposite and pressed his lips to hers.
Charley pushed the kiss forward, separated and let her tongue slide against his.
Wyatt reached through curls as Charley fumbled, grasping at his back. Their tongues continued to tease each other. He shifted. She reached—their movements choreographed—as natural as if they’d been together forever.
Breathless, they slowed, connected, enraptured by emotion, their expressions the same.
“I love you,” Wyatt said.
Lips crushed against each other as Charley let herself go.
Goodbye will be impossible.