Chapter 9CharliePresent
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled, staring at Kara’s empty room. The bed was made and everything was tidy like it usually was, but the suitcase she used as extra storage was gone and the purses she stored in it were neatly stacked in the corner.
I should have expected her to act like a coward. I’d been watching her like a hawk for days, waiting to see how she was going to handle things, but between work and holiday shit, I hadn’t been around much.
Pulling out my phone, I found her contact and hit send.
“Hey,” she answered on the first ring. She’d probably been staring at her phone for hours—I would’ve if I was her.
“Where are you?” I asked, walking back toward our tiny kitchen. The apartment we’d found was anything but big, but it was in our price range and wasn’t a dump, so I considered it a freaking palace.
“Staying with my parents tonight,” she said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “I’m going to help with the boys tomorrow while Rose cooks.”
“That’s your story, huh?” I asked dryly.
“Don’t start,” she replied instantly.
“You’re hiding,” I accused, dropping onto a kitchen stool. “You know that’s not gonna last long, right? You’ll have to face him at some point.”
“I’m not hiding,” she argued. “I told Rose I’d stay tonight and tomorrow night for Christmas.”
“You’re so full of shit and your parents are just playing into it.”
“Whatever,” she shot back. “I’m sure you can fend for yourself for two nights.”
“Fend for myself,” I repeated, sitting forward. “You’re joking, right?”
“Did you seriously call just to fight with me?” Kara asked. “Because I could’ve done without it.”
“No, I called to see where the hell you’d gone into hiding.”
“I’m not fucking hiding,” she replied, enunciating each word. “I’m at my freaking parents’ house.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I muttered, shaking my head. God, she was only going to make this whole situation harder and we both knew it. Instead of seeing Draco, giving him a welcome home hug, and leaving it at that—she was going to dodge him. And if I knew my nephew, that was only going to make him hunt her down and force her to acknowledge him.
“I’ll see you at the club tomorrow,” she said with a sigh. “Okay?”
“I’m not the only one you’ll see at the club,” I reminded her.
I wasn’t even surprised when she hung up on me.
God, sometimes I wanted to shake her. Where was the girl I’d grown up with—the one who took charge and made things happen? Who was this mousy person she’d turned into? It had been years, but I was still searching for my best friend.
Grabbing a bag of chips and a soda, I made my way to the couch and dropped onto it. Out of all the furniture in our apartment, that couch was my favorite place to be. Most of our stuff had come from family and friends, hand-me-downs that we’d accepted gladly because we didn’t have to pay for them—but the couch had been our one luxury. We’d sat on bean bags for six months while we’d saved up for it. Plush, soft, green velvet with six throw pillows and two throws hung over the back at all times, it was a freaking oasis in the middle of our space.
I’d just gotten comfortable and was reaching for the television remote when I heard someone knocking at my door.
Only one person could get me off that couch at eleven o’clock at night. I knew exactly who was on the other side of that door. It only took me seconds before I was throwing it open.
“Nice place,” Draco said, grinning. “You buy out a thrift store?”
“You’re here!” I screamed, jumping into his arms.
“Course I am,” he said as he carried me inside.
“I’m here, too,” Curtis said dryly, following us in and closing the door.
“How’d dinner with the parents go?” I asked as Draco set me on my feet.
“About how you’d expect,” Curtis replied. “They came, they saw, they cried, we ate, they left.”
“Jealousy is a stinky cologne,” Draco told his brother, his gaze scanning the apartment over my head.
“She’s not here,” I told him.
“Told you she wouldn’t be,” Curtis said, hopping over the back of the couch to plant himself in my spot.
“Scoot over,” I ordered. I looked at Draco. “Want the tour?”
“Sure,” he said, hiding his disappointment with a grin.
I took two steps sideways and started pointing. “Living room, kitchen, bathroom, my room, Kara’s room.” I grinned. “There, tour over.”
He laughed.
“Why do you have a Christmas tree if you’re not going to turn it on?” Curtis asked, getting off the couch to plug the lights in.
“I just got home,” I said defensively.
“These ornaments are from the dollar store, aren’t they?” he mused, flicking one.
“You know, you’ve got a lot to say for someone that doesn’t even have a tree,” I pointed out. I turned back to Draco. “You want something to drink? Beer or soda or water? I think we have milk? Or I have some frozen juice I can make—it’ll only take me a second.”