Dysfunctional Hearts Page 5

  If I’d just kept my cool, he might have let her go. I cringe. Instead, I had to go and lose my shit. The guilt is palpable. I step away and grab the back of my neck, hanging my head in shame. “It’s my fault you got hurt,” I say.

  She stands and approaches me slowly. “No, it wasn’t. I should have remembered to un-invite him,” she says like it’s the most logical explanation. But her teeth begin to chatter just a little, and I see the tremble of her limbs. I turn to the freezer and search the bottom drawer to find the bottle of vodka I know Nate stashed here. Finding two mugs, I pour us each a shot.

  “Here,” I say and pass her one.

  We both down it without a word. She coughs, pats her chest, her eyes watering. I manage to hold back a cough, the liquid burn welcomed. I’m rolling the mug between my palms when she reaches out and takes it from me. She turns my hands over, appraising the gashes to my knuckles, her own hands trembling.

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, incredulous.

  “I shouldn’t have tried reasoning with him while he was half-cut. He has a vicious tongue when he’s been on a bender.”

  I pull my hands free and pour another shot.

  “I’ll remember that for the next time,” she says just as I swallow the shot.

  Next time. I slam the mug down, the liquid catching in my throat.

  “Too soon,” she gests, putting up a false bravado.

  “Fucking hell, Sophie. It isn’t a goddamn joke. He verbally abused you for Christ’s sake. He had hold of your arm.”

  I turn away from her, my body vibrating with tension, and reach for the tap. The sting is welcome as I wash away the dried blood from my hands.

  Her palm rests on my back, and I draw in a deep breath. My hands are hanging over the edge of the sink, I shake them off and reach for the kitchen roll to dry them before I turn back to face her.

  “You might need ice for your face,” I say nodding to her eye.

  Shaking her head, she says, “I’ve had worse. I’ll worry about it later.”

  My stomach lurches from her admission. The vodka is straining to work its way back up. I swallow hard and turn back to soak the hankie, ringing out the excess water.

  She leans against the worktop. When I hold the hankie over her eye again, she flinches.

  “Please tell me whatever you had with that numb nut, is now over.”

  Rolling her eyes, she nods once.

  “I know we joke about the dickheads you date, but he has to be the worst. You deserve better, Sophie, why can’t you see that?”

  Her hand rests against my chest, and there is no way she can’t feel my heart racing.

  “I can. Why do you think I stopped seeing him? But believe it or not, he wasn’t that bad at first—”

  I grab her hand. “What do you mean, at first? Please tell me this was a one-off, Sophie.”

  She can’t look at me now as she debates her next words. “I don’t want to lie to you, Charlie, so I’m choosing not to answer that right now.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “I should have punched his fucking teeth out, too.”

  “Listen, Charlie. I appreciate the big brother thing both you and Nate have going on, I do. But it was never my intention to drag you into my already messed-up life.”

  “That’s not what that was back there, and you know it,” I reply.

  I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the adrenaline wearing off, but I just wasn’t prepared to lie—not about this, not now. We banter about the girls I sleep with and the same with the pricks she dates. If she only knew I haven’t been with anyone in months. I could lie to myself and say I had a dry spell, but the truth is, Sophie is always at the forefront of my mind. And maybe it’s time I did something about it.

  I untuck the hair from behind her ear and let it fall over her eyebrow. As much as I would prefer to tuck it back, so I can see her whole face, I’d put money on it she wouldn’t want Flick to notice her injuries.

  I have the urge to kiss her again, and not for some prank—for real. I roll my thumb over her bottom lip; her mouth opens ever so slightly. I’d be a prick kissing her now. I pull her into my chest and hold her.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles.

  “For what?” I ask, resting my chin on the top of her head, breathing her in, swaying slightly on the spot.

  “For sticking up for me. No man has ever come to my defence…not like that.”

  I’d do it again, in the flash of a heartbeat. I have a revelation at this moment—there probably isn’t much I wouldn’t do for this girl.

  “Always,” I say and mean it.

  Chapter 6

  Charlie

  I helped Sophie with the cases that were ready and waiting and asked the limo driver to come around to the front in about fifteen minutes. Outside, the fresh air licks my cheeks as the wind picks up. Sophie wraps her arms around her middle, her lip trembling as her teeth chatter.

  “Here.” I stop, take off my suit jacket, and slip it over her shoulders. She raises her eyebrows, ready to remove it, but I hold up my palm. “It’s cold, besides you don’t want Flick seeing your arm. Just accept the jacket.”

  She pauses, her shoulders slump. She slips her arms through the sleeves and rolls them up above her hands.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  She appears smaller now she's wearing it. And more vulnerable. It only makes me want to protect her more.

  My fingers reach for her curl, and I whirl it around my finger once, then let go. It springs back and settles back over her eye. I’ve been trying to ignore this pull towards her for too long. I know she’s my friend, but I don’t think that’s all I want us to be, not anymore.

  No one bats an eyelid when we enter the gazebo just as the DJ announces the bouquet toss will be taking place out front shortly.

  Nate and Flick have an early flight, so Ana and Evie booked them a suite in a hotel close to the airport.

  Standing just off to the side, I watch as all the guests file out and congregate, readying for the bouquet. Sophie doesn’t attempt to catch it, but her smile is wide. I can sense it, though—how the day is catching up with her. I slip my hand into hers. She glances up at me, and instead of pulling away, she squeezes my hand gently and leans into my shoulder.

  There’s a commotion followed by cheering and catcalling. When the sea of heads part, I catch sight of Simon, holding up the bouquet. I let out a laugh before bringing my fingers to my mouth, letting out a wolf whistle.

  Flick and Nate say quick goodbyes to their immediate family before climbing into the limo. Once the doors close, they both appear through the open sunroof. He takes her in his arms and kisses her in a way she won’t forget in a hurry, I’m sure. When he pulls back and gazes back at her, it reminds me again of the love my parents had.

  Flick and Nate, wave to everyone until the limo disappears, and I let out a relieved sigh. Time to wrap up this shindig. I check the time on my watch. The minibuses will be arriving shortly, and I can’t say I’m not relieved. Flick and Nate thought of everything—even transport for their guests—and thank God for that.

  “I’ll go check on Evie and Ana in case they need anything. You good seeing to everyone?” she asks.

  “Of course. Let me say goodnight to them both.”

  When we approach, they’re leaning heavily against one another. Their eyes are droopy with fatigue, but their smiles still in place.

  Soph squeezes my hand. It had felt so natural to hold hers in mine, I didn’t notice I hadn’t let go. Reluctantly, I release my grip.

  “Wasn’t it the most splendid day?” Evie says slowly, her pronunciation slurred even more now the day is playing catch up.

  “Yes, it was. Are you ladies both ready to retire for the night?” I ask.

  Ana smiles gratefully, “We are.”

  “Then you’re in luck. The lovely Sophie here was just saying how she’s ready to call it a night.”

  “I’ll wal
k with you… If you don’t mind the company?” Sophie asks.

  “Of course not,” Ana says.

  Evie, unsteady on her feet, attempts to kiss my cheek, her cane wobbling. I lean down to make it easier for her and pull her in for a gentle hug, afraid I might break her.

  Ana cuts in, “My turn, stop hogging him all to yourself,” she says, and we all laugh. “Charlie, you’d make two old women very happy if you were next.”

  I shake my head. “Next to what?”

  “Tie the knot,” Ana replies.

  I let out a strangled cough and see the devilish grin spread across her face.

  “If you said yes, Ana, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

  She swats my shoulder. “Stop that. There’s someone out there for you. Who knows? She may be even closer than you think…” Her lack of subtly doesn’t go unnoticed.

  When Sophie lets out a cross between a snort and a laugh, my insides warm.

  “Never say never,” I say to Ana and pull her in for a hug.

  As I let go, Sophie steps between the two of them, offering them an arm each. Then they turn and make their way into the house.

  I’m thoroughly beat by the time Sophie comes back out and joins us. Simon and Ryan are flying back tomorrow morning, so we have to say our goodbyes now. Simon opens his arms, and she walks straight into him, wrapping hers around his waist. For a fleeting moment, a wave of unwarranted jealousy rears its ugly head. Not because of their relationship, but because I want to be the one wrapping my arms around her.

  “Sorry I can’t stay, baby girl. I hate leaving you. But I know Charlie will take care of you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “What’s not to love when you have your own version of a Hemsworth beau?”

  She swats his chest. He takes on a serious expression as he leans to whisper in her ear. When he pulls back, she nods, wiping under her eyes. Ryan swoops her in for a hug. He could snap her like a twig, and yet he couldn’t be any gentler if he tried.

  I stick my hand out to Simon and pull him in for a tight hug.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. I promise.” And it’s one I plan to keep.

  He draws back. “Thanks, man. I hate to leave her.” He waves his free hand. “You know, especially after earlier, but I’m glad she has you.” He eyeballs me with an enigmatic smile—one I can’t quite decipher—and pulls away. Ryan moves in, and I hug him just as their cab pulls down the drive.

  Sophie gives Simon one last hug before they climb in. He opens his window, sticking his head out just as the driver pulls away. “Miss you already, baby girl. I’ll call you once we’re back in New York. Love you.” He blows her a kiss, which she catches and holds close to her chest, shouting back she loves him, too.

  Her shoulders slump once the sound of the engine disappears. Without speaking, we head back inside, and I lock up and set the alarm.

  “What a day,” I say with an exaggerated sigh.

  “You can say that again,” Soph says, smiling.

  “You feel okay?” I ask. It’s an open question, and I don’t just mean what happened earlier. The past two years have been full of significant changes: one of her best friends settled down with the love of her life, and the other went to follow his dreams in another country.

  “I’m tired and yet also a little bit wired. Is it overtired, maybe?” She stares down, picking at her nail polish, and I know by the end of tomorrow, there will be a different mood of colour on those nails.

  “I know the perfect solution for that.”

  Her eyes dart to mine. “You do?” she asks.

  I nod for her to follow me, holding out my hand. She takes it—no hesitation. I lead her through the now quiet house and into the kitchen.

  “Hot chocolate,” I tell her.

  She sighs, placing her hand over her chest. “Be still, my beating heart. You do know the way to a girl’s heart.”

  “Very funny,” I say and reach out to grab her waist. I begin to tickle her. She snorts and squirms beneath my fingertips. Her hair falls free around her face which is now flush. I stop and step back. She swats my shoulder. Her smile soft as I turn away to make our drinks…before I do something stupid.

  Mugs in hand, she follows me wordlessly, and we settle onto the sofa in the back-living room where I grab for the remote on the small coffee table and switch on the TV, keeping the volume down low.

  We sip our drinks, our eyes meet, and I find myself wondering how she ended up with such a tool in the first place. And how I didn’t know about this one. “Why were you ever with that jerk, anyway?” I ask.

  She blows on her drink, cupping it between her hands, peering over the rim. At first, I don’t think she’s going to answer, but then with a heavy sigh, she does. “What can I say? I have poor taste in guys. But that’s not a new development, is it?” She shrugs, trying to make light of it, but her eyes drift over my shoulder, avoiding my gaze.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wonder if you pick the worse of a bad bunch because deep down, you know it’s never going anywhere.” I look down into my lap. “I mean, I should know… It’s why I don’t date. Period.” And I don’t. Hell, my longest relationship was with Kelly Hughes when we were fourteen. And it only lasted three days.

  “Why don’t you date?” she asks.

  I watch as she pulls her feet up underneath her.

  “I don’t know. I thought I had my reasons, but now I’m not so sure.” It’s the most honest answer I can give her.

  “Well, for the record, I think whoever you end being with—” she tilts her head at my expression, “—And before you argue back, you will…eventually, and whoever she is will be worth any doubts you’ve ever had. She’ll be worth it. Humans aren’t built to be alone. Even when we crave solitude, we also need human interaction to thrive.” Her cheeks colour, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability she tries so hard to hide.

  I can’t help but smile. Laying my arm over the back of the sofa, I still my fingers barely an inch from her hair, itching to touch the silky strands. My stomach heats and stirs my lower region to life; I fidget, pulling my legs up partway and turning my knees towards her. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “What I’m trying to say is, I’m not the person I was before. I let someone else’s actions determine my outcome. I let him hold all the power.”

  “Who? That douchebag from earlier?” I ask, refusing to use his name. Scum like him don’t get that honour.

  “No, not him. The guy I was engaged to.” She picks at a piece of fluff from the cushion she’s pulled into her lap. “I was so naïve back then. I thought I had it all figured out. All the firsts we’d have, you know. But I was so wrong…so stupid.”

  I lean towards her and place my hand over hers. Her eyes flick to mine. “No, Sophie. He was the stupid one, not you.”

  She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth before answering. “I blamed myself for a long time afterwards. Sometimes I still do.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She barely nods at my words. And I know her mind must be consumed with memories of what happened to her and Flick. I try not to let myself think about it. I hate that either of them ever had to suffer at the hands of someone else.

  “I never really thought about the bad things that could happen to people… That humans were capable of being such monsters. Not until I found myself in a stranger’s bed with no recollection of the night before.”

  I link my fingers between hers as she lets her words free.

  “I guess I had an ideal view of the world—waking up in a hospital bed alone and scared was not one of them. I saw the disappointment in my parents’ eyes, the shame.”

  I stop grinding my jaw. “Have you talked about what happened to you?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yes. At first, I would pull back, make excuses not to go to therapy, but when I found the right fit and a therapist I could talk to, I kept going back. It’s helped a lot. Just because I don’t remember the assault doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, you know? It took
a long time for me to realise my feelings were warranted.”

  A violent surge flows through my body at her words, and I squeeze her hand. I try to swallow the vice-like hold on my throat—near on impossible—and cough to clear it.

  “Because you’re the one taking back the control,” I say.

  She nods. “Yes, exactly.”

  Her words hang in the air, the ticking of the grandfather clock almost comforting as we sit quietly, my hand locked with hers.

  The pressure of something heavy and warm in my lap rouses me. Blinking, my eyes adjust. The TV flickers in low murmurs. And Sophie is asleep in my lap.

  I flick my wrist—it’s late or early depending on which way you look at it. Carefully, I place my palm underneath her neck, lift her, and stand. Stiff, I crack my neck.

  I glance back down and take her in. Her lips are slightly parted and the soft hum of her breathing lulls me closer. The armour she has built around her is now gone, replaced with a young, carefree woman. And if today has proven anything, it’s the revelation that whatever this is, it’s more than just physical attraction.

  Kneeling, I stroke the hair away from her face. I can’t leave her like this; she’ll wake up as uncomfortable as I did, but I don’t want to wake her, either, and it’s not like I haven’t put her to bed once before. Sod it.

  I scoop her up and into my arms. Her head resting on my chest, she mumbles something incoherent but doesn’t wake when I take the stairs to her room. Her scent washes over me, and I breathe her in, toeing open the door with my foot. Then I lower her onto the bed and pull a blanket over her. I glimpse a familiar-looking t-shirt and double-take. It’s mine—the one I let her wear when we were away in Torquay. I finger the fabric, unable to hold back my smile before switching off the lamp and slipping out quietly, the door clicking closed behind me.