Starless Nights (Hale Brothers Series Book 2) (14 page)

Beau is already standing by the door, and when he sees me he reaches over and shakes Charlie’s hand.

“You all set?” he asks me.

“Yep.”

I glance at Charlie one last time as I follow Beau out the door. He shoots me a thumbs up and I roll my eyes.

Standing on the sidewalk, Beau gives me a small smile and starts walking. He doesn’t say one word to me as we round the block and stop in front of an old brownstone.

“This is it.” He tilts his head toward the building and half interestedly waves his hand at it.

“You were serious when you said around the corner.” I giggle and for the first time in what feels like forever, he smiles at me. My heart flips over in my chest and squeezes.

He grabs his keys out of his pocket and I follow behind him up the steps. Taking a deep breath, I mentally take a picture of this moment.

When I think about us being kids and playing together, the memories are so vivid that they feel like they were just yesterday, not years ago. And now here we are as adults and I’m following him through the front door of his home.

He glances back at me and smiles again. That’s two smiles, my heart squeezes again.

“So, the building is rather old and I’m five flights up. Hope you don’t mind the stairs.”

“Not at all.”

He holds the door open, and I slip by. Our eyes lock on to each other, butterflies take flight in my stomach, and I feel that physical pull that I have only ever had with him. I probably move a little slower than necessary, but to be this close to him, I can’t help but soak it up. Beau has always been a little on the hot natured side and the warmth coming off of his skin, oh how I wish I could just lean into him. And he smells like fresh laundry, the outside air, and well—just him.

Together again in silence, we trudge up the stairs, and reach the top level. He unlocks the door and throws it open for me. My jaw drops open as I walk in. This loft is one hundred percent Beau. Most of it is one wide open space, the back wall is brick, there are windows everywhere to keep it bright, and the ceilings are at least twenty feet high, complete with wood beams. The furniture is chunky and worn. It looks inviting. His table is a large wooden farm table and the couch is a light brown leather oversized complete three-piece sectional. There are a few throw pillows on it and a dark blue rug on the floor. He has one large Jackson Pollock like painting over the fireplace, and then on the wall going into the kitchen there are black and white photos of the beach from back home too.

“I can’t believe this is where you live and how big this space is. My apartment is a shoebox next to this one.” And it really is.

He walks into the kitchen, sets down the coffee, places his phone on the charger, and grabs two bottles of water out of the refrigerator.

“Where do you live?” he asks as he walks into the living room and sits down on the couch.

Standing in the middle of the room, I do one more three-sixty to take in the space, and then give my attention back to him. “A couple of blocks west toward the West Village. How did you find this place?” I follow him and sit on the other end of the couch.

“I came up earlier in the spring. My plan was to try and decide which neighborhood I wanted to live in and as it turned out the guy next to me on the plane had just been offered a job in Tampa so he was going to need to rent it out. He described the place, we hopped in a cab together, and were brought straight here from the airport. I took one look at the loft, walked through the neighborhood, and I knew. We stopped at Irish 31 for a beer, and an hour later, I wrote him the deposit check. I just knew this was the place for me.”

“That’s really a great story. So easy for you. I think I searched for two months in this area. Most places are old, small, and expensive.”

“I know, I got lucky. This brownstone has been in his family for a long time. That’s why this space is so large. It was originally two units, but he tore down the walls creating this. Next time you come over, I’ll show you the best part.”

Next time.
Just short of him professing his undying love for me, he couldn’t have said anything more perfect to me.

“Why can’t you show me now?” My curiosity is piqued.

“Because, it’s the wrong time of day.” He smirks at me.

“Okay, and you’re just assuming that I’ll want to come back another day.” I’m joking with him, but his smirk falls.

Something flashes across his eyes but then it’s gone. “Maybe, I guess we’ll find out,” he says flatly.

“If you want me to come back, then just say the word, I’ll even bring some food.”

His face relaxes. He gives me another smile and leans back into the couch.

“Are you going to Ali’s this weekend?” I ask trying to switch the conversation back to a lighter one.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it. Besides can you imagine the earful I’d get from her if I didn’t show?”

I laugh. I do know her and for someone so small, she can get super feisty.

Beau looks at me hesitantly. “So I really don’t have anything planned this afternoon. Do you want to stay and watch a movie with me?”

He wants me here.

“Yes, I’d like that.” I curl my legs up underneath me and smile back at him.

I should take this as an opportunity to ask him ‘why’ but I’m craving time with him and needing a good moment. I don’t want to ruin this with questions. He so rarely lets me in . . . maybe next time I’ll ask.

CLASSES STARTED THE last week in August, and I am grateful for the distraction. Matt went home with mom after the beach house weekend and the loft has been pretty quiet. So quiet, I find myself thinking that maybe I could have handled a lot of things with Leila differently over the years, but what good does this do me? I can’t change what’s done or rewrite history.

Drew and Nate have both stopped over a few times, but really everyone is trying to get settled into the new semester. I know that they are both worried about me, but I’ll snap out of this soon. Putting distance between Leila and me, it’ll be good for me.

It’s been three weeks since I have seen Leila and knowing that she’s so close has been driving me crazy. I shouldn’t think about going to the café as much as I do, but it was only a matter of time until I found myself standing outside the front door. Maybe she’s working, or maybe not, but I shouldn’t be surprised that this is where my feet brought me. I heard her tell Ali at the beach house that she’s no longer working weekends, so she most likely won’t even be here. I need to just go in and get this over with. My heart races with indecision.

Looking around at the people passing by on the sidewalk, I start laughing at the ridiculousness of this.
Get it together Hale. She is Ali’s best friend and she’s always going to be around . . . so get used to it! Stick to the plan, and remember the goal. It’s time to move on.
Taking a deep breath, I focus on the last part of my little pep talk, it’s time to move on. I shove one hand into my pocket and walk in.

The door closes behind me, I quickly take inventory of who’s in the place and my eyes come to a stop on Leila and Charlie. Leila approaches me, smiling.

“Hey, I saw you stop outside and I was wondering if you were going to come in.”

“Yeah, I was trying to decide on whether or not I really want a cup of coffee.” My eyes shift past her and I see Charlie sitting in the chair next to the window. It didn’t even occur to me that he might be here. I was singularly focused on her and now I’m mad at myself. Seeing him is another reminder of why I never should have come in here.

“So, what did you decide?” Her voice snaps me out of my mental scolding.

“I’m here aren’t I?”

She flinches, drops her eyes to the ground, and frowns.

“I’m sorry Leila, that sounded bad,” I say letting out a sigh. I don’t want to be an asshole to her. I just really want to get over her, him, this—how it makes me feel, all of it.

“It’s alright. Have a seat and I’ll go get it for you.”

She walks off and my eyes follow her.

“So it’s Beau, right?” I hear Charlie say from behind me.

“Yep.” Looking back at him, he smiles at me and I grit my teeth together.

“Awesome, have a seat.”

I walk over and sit down next him. He seems friendly enough; I just don’t need or want to be friends with him. A moment of silence passes between us, neither of us really knowing what to say. He’s watching me and I’m watching him.

“Did you know that rats can’t sweat?” I ask him.

Confusion and humor appear on his face. “What? Why are you telling me that?”

“No reason. This city is filled with rats . . . and I thought you might find it interesting.” I’m certain he hears the double meaning in my reply as he shifts his weight, watches me, and then starts laughing.

“Did you know that bees have five eyes?”

I don’t know what type of response I was expecting from him, but it wasn’t this. No wonder Drew and Ali like him. He holds his own. I guess.

The corner of my mouth twitches and he smirks back at me. I really don’t want to like this guy, but he makes it hard not to. Both times he’s been around, he’s been nice, and given the right circumstance, I probably would too.

“Yeah, turns out I’m allergic to the little bastards, so I’m kind of obsessed with them and freaked out at the same time.”

“That sucks. What happens if you get stung?”

“Swell up all over.”

The thought of buying some bees quickly enters and leaves my mind.

“So, any big plans this weekend?” he asks me.

“No, nothing much.” I know that it would be polite to ask him back, but I don’t want to hear what they have planned together. Leila walks back over and hands me the coffee in a to-go cup.

“Leila, guess what?” Charlie says to her.

“What?” She’s looking at me with her crystal blue eyes and I can feel it all the way down into the bottom of my stomach.

“Beau was just saying how he doesn’t have any plans this afternoon, and I know that you don’t either, so the two of you should hang out. You could catch up and reminisce about the good old days.”

What?

My head swings back to Charlie and I can’t believe that he just said this. He has to know that she and I have history. Why would he be pushing us together?

“It’s alright, I’m sure you have something that you need to do . . .”

Her voice brings me out of my moment of shock, and I rein in my emotions. Looking at Leila, I know that I have a couple of seconds to decide. Do I decide to let her in with the possibility of her hurting me further, or do I decide to walk away? Maybe what I need is to spend some time with her. Maybe then I will get some perspective. Maybe then I will decide that all I’ve done over the years is build her up in my head to be someone else. Either way, she’ll be with me and not with him, and I’m okay with that. So much for putting distance between us.

“Sure, I was just headed home if that sounds alright to you?”

Her eyes widen. I’ve surprised her. She thought I would say no, but then again after the way I dismissed her at the beach, I would probably think that too.

“Um sure, I just need to grab my bag from the back.”

What did I just do? Part of me is in shock. I invited the girl of my dreams, and in my dreams, to my home. I never thought this would be happening. I just didn’t think were in that place, but maybe we are.

Walking into the loft with her, it immediately feels different, warmer, more like a home. I shouldn’t like her being here as much as I do, but I can’t help it.

After she looks around the apartment, I know my time is almost up with her. I don’t want her to go, I want her to stay, but I don’t know what to talk about with her. After all these years, and all the things that have already been said, just coming out and asking her ‘why’ doesn’t seem like a possibility anymore. Does it ever become just too late to ask certain questions? So, just like I did a year and a half ago, I invite her to stay for a movie.

Leila tucks her legs up underneath her and curls up on the couch.

“Here,” I reach into the drawer of the end table and pull out a bag of salt water taffy. Her face lights up when she sees what I have.

“You really do love this stuff, don’t you?”

“Yep, I don’t know what it is but I could eat this stuff nonstop.”

She takes the package from me and our fingers brush. My heart rate instantly speeds up. Her eyes catch mine for a second and her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink.

“Seems to me, you do eat it nonstop. You always have some on you.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. Do you have a preference on the movie?”

“Nope, just something funny or something scary.” She used to say this when we were kids. I always opted for funny. I lived everyday with scary and didn’t need any more in my life.

The last scary night that I had, I was eighteen. Dad finally went too far. He’s getting what he deserves behind bars now. Leila showed up the morning after. I needed her more than ever, and somehow she knew this.