Show Me How (17 page)

It was as though he was worried and proud, felt possessive and protective.

Deacon brushed away a chunk of hair that had fallen out of my bun, and cupped my cheek in his palm. “Never going to want to give this up, Charlie Girl. He was insane to.”

I smiled weakly as my chest warmed at his words. “I gave you my heart, you don't have to.”

But I knew what I would have to give up in order to keep this.

Stranger.

For the first time in too long, I was acutely aware that the man holding me close to his body with his lips pressed firmly to mine was not the same man I texted every night.

It had been too easy to visualize Stranger as Deacon while talking to him. To swoon over his words and fall for him even though I knew I couldn't. Even though I knew that it would be entirely stupid to allow myself to. Then again, I hadn't had much of a choice in the matter when Stranger had so clearly known the way to my heart without even trying.

Some odd mixture of guilt and denial and fear filled me as I acknowledged the extent of my conversations with Stranger. How they'd made me feel, and how I'd come to crave them even as I'd told myself that they were innocent. Even as I'd told myself that he was a fictional character in one of my books.

Because somewhere out there, he
was
real. Because no matter what I told myself, the conversations weren't innocent if the thought of Deacon ever seeing them had ice sliding through my veins. Because even though I'd envisioned them to be the same person, I had to accept that Deacon and Stranger were two separate men, now that I was about to lose one of them.

I looked up into light brown eyes when Deacon pulled back, and made up my mind. The song was finished; it had been for a few days. I would send it to Stranger, and then I would tell him good-­bye.

Why did the thought of never speaking to him again hurt so much, when I was staring at what I wanted?

 

Chapter Eighteen

Deacon

July 4, 2016

N
EVER GOING TO
want to give this up.

I didn't know where the words had come from when they had slid off my tongue before, but the thought continued to float through my mind again and again as I lay there with my arms tightly wrapped around Charlie's body, and my head resting on her stomach.

Charlie's fingers gently moved up and down my back, trailing over the raised lines from her nails, and every now and then one of her fingers would pass over where she'd broken the skin just as she'd fallen apart beneath me.

Her hesitations and reactions tonight hadn't been something I'd expected. Considering her past with Ben, I'd never thought Charlie would be as innocent as she was. But, Christ, it had made my blood pound knowing no one had touched her that way. Knowing I was the first to take care of her the way she should be. Knowing no one else had made her feel the way she had tonight.

Ben was a damn idiot for not treating her like she was everything, but I wouldn't complain, because I knew I would remember the way Charlie had responded to my touch, and the look on her face, for the rest of my life.

I'd remember everything about tonight for the rest of my life.

I blew out a slow, steadying breath against her stomach, then kissed the skin there as I thought about my wallet and what I had left in there. What I hadn't even considered grabbing because I'd wanted Charlie, had wanted to feel her come undone while I was buried deep inside her, so damn bad.

Then again, I had a feeling just the fact that it was Charlie would have had me forgetting everything else but her, because she was the only one who could.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered as she traced over her mark on me. “I didn't mean to.”

My mouth curved into a smile, and I lifted my head to look at her. “Don't,” I said simply. If she only knew how fucking hot it had been. “Besides,” I said in a low tone as I pushed myself higher up on her body. “I'll return the favor.” It was a promise emphasized when I dipped my head to bite the underside of her breast.

Charlie let out a soft gasp, and her fingers tightened on my back. She cradled my body between her thighs, and curled one of her legs slowly around one of my own—­and already, that foil packet in my wallet was forgotten.

Never before, but Charlie Girl wasn't like any of the others.

I rolled my hips against hers, and covered her mouth with my own, swallowing the next quick gasp that left her at the contact.

“Wait,” she said halfheartedly, but pulled me closer to her warmth. She shuddered when I rocked against her again, and bit down on her bottom lip as her head dropped back when I did it again. “Oh God,” she whispered.

“You gonna walk now?” I asked, my tone teasing, and kissed her soundly.

Her head shook faintly. “No. No, wait,” she said more firmly. “Wait, just let me—­before I get too consumed in you, let me go check on Keith.”

“Shit,” I hissed, and pushed away from her. “I forgot. I'm sorry, I forgot.”

Her face, that just seconds before had shown her need and her pleasure, was now full of amusement as she watched me hurry around her room gathering clothes. “Forgot what, exactly?”

I paused once I had my boxer briefs on, and hesitated for only a second before deciding to tell her the truth. “Forgot he was here, forgot he was sick. Forgot everything . . .”

Red stained her cheeks as she shrugged into her shirt, but she remained silent as she climbed off the bed and pulled on the shorts I had tossed at her. She walked slowly up to me to kiss my bare chest, her blue eyes flashed up to mine for a brief second when she said, “Glad I wasn't the only one. Give me just a minute, I'll be back.”

I watched her walk out of the room, then turned to grab my jeans. After I finished buttoning them up, I bent to pick up my shirt, but froze when something on her nightstand next to a small stack of books caught my eye.

No.

I stayed there, hunched over and staring at the offending object for what felt like years as I tried to make myself see something else. Something other than the brown, slightly worn, soft leather journal that had entered my life and changed everything just over a month ago.

After long moments, I finally forced myself to straighten, and walked over to the nightstand. I picked up the pen that sat on top, and ran my hand over the journal.

Not her. Not her, not her, not her. Not this. It can't be the same.

My Charlie reads
books, she doesn't write songs.

Words, to me, had been an escape from the Deacon everyone knew. She'd been a way for me to be myself when no one else had allowed me to be, and then I hadn't been able to leave her.

I opened the cover, and my eyes shut when I saw the writing. “Fuck.”

I flipped faster through the book until I got to the pages where we'd written back and forth to each other, then slammed the journal shut and backed away from the nightstand.

“This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening,” I hissed.

It didn't matter that I'd visualized Charlie as Words, she couldn't be her.

Because before I had been terrified about what Charlie would say if she'd ever found out about Words, but now I didn't know what to do about the fact that while I'd been trying to win Charlie over during the day, she'd spent her nights freely talking to a stranger in a way I always had to
beg
her to talk to me.

I snatched my shirt off the floor and shrugged into it and my shoes as I hurried out of Charlie's room and down the hall. I entered the living room just as she did from the other side of the house, and her eyebrows pulled together when she saw me completely dressed.

Fear and hurt flashed through her eyes before she could try to hide it, but her shoulders still sagged as she studied me. When she spoke, her voice shook. “You're leaving.”

It wasn't a question, and it sounded as if she'd expected this all along.

I wanted to fall to my knees in front of her and wrap my arms around her. I wanted to tell her that not everyone would do what Ben had done to her; that despite my past, the guy she had given her heart to was the real Deacon. The Deacon that wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night, and every other night, in the same bed as her.

But all I could think about were my countless conversations with Words—­things Charlie had thought she was saying to another man—­and my need to prove that this wasn't real somehow. That maybe she'd just found the journal because she worked at Mama's.

It took me a second to realize I was nodding before I could shake my head. “No. Not like that,” I said quickly.

Her face was now guarded as her head slowly bowed, her stance rigid as she curled her arm around her waist.

No. No, don't hide from me, Charlie Girl,
I thought as my stomach churned and chest ached.

I just needed to get my other phone and check something before I lost my damn mind.

I finally blurted out the only other thing I could think of in that moment. “Condoms.” I swallowed past my unease, and pointed at the door.

Charlie's blue eyes darted to the door before locking on me. “You're going to get condoms,” she said in the same tone.

I could feel the one in my wallet as though it weighed ten pounds. For the first time since I found the journal, I took a steadying breath, and met her gaze straight on as I told her the only truth I could right now. “Like I said, you make me forget everything, and I know I'd forget again the next time I get close enough to have you. I need to protect you, or else I'll be no better than he was.”

Her guarded expression cracked, and her face finally softened. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She dipped her head in a nod. “Yeah. Just let yourself in when you get back.”

Instead of leaving, I took long, quick steps toward her, and brought my mouth down onto hers as I pulled her close.

She melted against me, and I forced myself not to say everything I was thinking.

Please forgive me.

Please don't be her.

Please understand
. . .

“Come back soon,” Charlie whispered against my lips, and without looking at her, I turned and strode for the door.

Despite the twitching in my hands to grab Candy from my center console, where I stashed it most days now, I waited until I was out of Charlie's driveway and off her street. Then continued to drive until I was near one of the docks at the lake.

I put my car in park and just stared out at the lake for long seconds until I couldn't stand it any longer, then dug in the console until I found the phone. It felt like I was moving through water as I went to the contacts and opened up Words's, then pulled out my other phone, and did the same to pull up Charlie's.

I'd just glanced at Words's number, so I already knew. But I refused to believe it until I was holding my phones side by side.

My head dropped back against the headrest as dread filled me, and I barked out a curse as I flung Candy across the car. It hit the passenger door with a loud smack and fell to the floor seconds before it chimed.

Then chimed again.

I slowly looked down to where it lay. My chest felt tight and heavy as I tried to tell myself that it wasn't her.

It couldn't be her. It had to be someone else.

I leaned over to grab the phone off the floor, and tapped on the screen until the messages were pulled up.

Words.

A brief flash of disbelief and jealousy flared in my chest before I told myself that she might be doing exactly what I would've.

I'd been trying to walk away from Words for days, and hadn't been able to. But I knew without a doubt that if I hadn't found out who Words was, I would have walked away from her without a second thought after what had happened between Charlie and me tonight.

I opened the message, and that jealousy and disbelief grew and grew as anger simmered in my veins.

Words:
Hey, Stranger. Thought you might want to see this.

Below was a picture of a page in her journal. The very one I'd just been holding.

You can't believe it's daylight

We stayed up again all night

Talking just cause you like the way I make the words sound

I triple-­double dare you

Fess up and make the first move

You need me like I need you

That's why you come around here

Cause you know I've always been the one

With my heart tied behind my back

You can't help it when I look at you like that

Don't deny it cause we both know

I could love you with my eyes closed

I could love you with my eyes closed

Who listens to your sad songs

The shoulder that you cry on

Out on that ledge you walk on

When you're sinking

Who keeps your secrets locked up

When there's no one you can trust

I know it's much more than just wishful thinking

Just say the words and you know I'll be there

With my heart tied behind my back

You can't help it when I look at you like that

Don't deny it cause we both know

I could love you with my eyes closed

I could love you with my eyes closed

I clenched the phone so tightly in my hand, I was sure I would break it.

I got it now . . . who she'd started writing about. Ben. Because there'd never been anyone else for Charlie than him until I'd finally seen what I should have long ago.

But I also knew she'd changed the song to start writing about me. Well,
Stranger
, for her.

And right now all I could see was that part where she talked about her heart and loving him.

Was it possible to be jealous of yourself?

Was it possible to be mad that your girl was in love with you?

When she didn't realize that it was you, and thought it was another man entirely, the answer was yes.

I shoved my car into gear and took off away from the lake without thinking about what I was about to do.

I was back at Charlie's faster than I should have been, and though I knew I needed to calm myself down, each step closer to her door had my anger growing hotter.

The door was unlocked and I flung it open easily, and I only spared a second to glance in the direction of Keith's room to make sure I didn't see or hear him before storming into Charlie's room.

The smile that had been lighting up her face immediately fell when she noticed my anger, and though she called my name, I didn't respond.

My eyes scanned her room for the journal that was no longer on the nightstand. As soon as they landed on it, I walked over and snatched it up from where it sat next to her on the bed, and didn't miss the way she reached for it, trying to stop me, as though she was afraid of me having it.

“Deacon, give that to me!” she said quickly, her tone full of worry.

“You and your words,” I sneered.

Her head snapped up. “What did you just say?” she asked breathlessly.

I slammed Candy on top of it and thrust both at her. “An hour,” I growled when she took them from me. “Not even. I was inside you not even an hour ago, and you're already sending this shit?”

“What is this?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Whose phone is this?”

I leaned forward and planted my hands on the bed so my face was directly in front of hers. “You gave me your heart, Charlie Girl, yeah? Or did you give it to Stranger? Or maybe someone else that I don't know about.”

Dread filled her eyes. “How . . . how do you know—­”

“I made you mine. I'm pretty sure I wanted to continue making
only
you
mine for the rest of my goddamn life, and it's
you
who can't choose just one person?”