Charity had never said anything to him about it. Before Stevie had gotten killed, she had overheard her brother and Bad talking about leaving, joining up with the MC club that Bad was now part of. They had hoped to Prospect first and then become a fully patched-in member.
“You were both going to leave me here,” Charity said.
“Dude, what about Charity?” Bad asked.
“What about her? My sister will understand that I need to do this. You know I’d do it for her.”
Her brother hadn’t cared that he was leaving his sister. All he’d wanted was to do what he wanted. Charity didn’t mind. She always felt guilty that he had to stay behind. He put his life on hold for her. Just as she put her life on hold for him. She gave the life he wanted for her a try.
She hated it, but she had given it her all.
Now it was time to do things herself.
“You knew?” Bad asked.
“Yeah, I knew.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Bad, I was twenty years old. My brother had given up everything else for me. I wasn’t going to let him stay behind anymore. I knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t this.” She held her hands out, looking around the apartment. “He’s gone. I … I can’t live like this. Not anymore.”
The towel she used was soaking wet, and so was her body. “I need to … get changed. You’re soaked, too.”
She moved toward her bedroom, pushing the door to give her some privacy. The lock had been broken for a couple of years. She rarely had any visitors, so it was never a problem for her.
Charity was very much aware of Bad in the other room. Waiting.
After stripping out of her clothes, she grabbed a robe because she didn’t have many decent towels to use.
With a towel in hand, she stepped out of her room but came flush against Bad’s body. He’d moved so close, and she hadn’t even heard him.
“Oh,” she said. “Er, here’s a towel.” She shoved it against his chest, trying not to think about how hard and firm it was.
She inhaled, only to detect the leathery scent as well as his masculine one combined with it.
Charity had always had a crush on him. Even after all of this time, it hadn’t changed. Bad never looked at her as anything other than his best friend’s little sister. It was embarrassing. There was a time she thought he might have felt something, but … nothing ever happened.
Tilting her head back, she tried to imagine him not kissing her. She didn’t want his kisses. She didn’t want anything from him. Not a damn thing.
Keep lying to yourself.
Bad took the towel and stepped past her, entering the bathroom.
Get a grip on yourself.
It was impossible.
She moved toward the kitchen. There were only two mugs on the counter, one kettle. Everything else was sold. She would be leaving everything else in the apartment.
Spooning out the coffee into the mugs, she didn’t bother with cream or sugar. Neither of them liked to water down their coffee intake. She also liked strong, dark coffee.
Yum.
With the heavy scent of bitter coffee in the air, she turned to find Bad had wrapped a towel around his waist, but all of him was on display. She hadn’t seen him like this in over ten years.
Don’t stare.
It was impossible not to. He was so close, the apartment seeming to shrink with each second he was inside.