So instead, I took in a deep breath and smiled broadly. “Yup,” I said. “You look like James Bond.”
He arched one eyebrow. “James Bond, huh?”
I grinned and bobbed my head. “Boone. Scott Boone.”
“You’re a goofball.” He smiled fondly at me and then let out a loud breath. “Okay, I have to go pick up Melinda.” He looked around the room. “Where’d I put the corsage?”
I saw a clear plastic box next to his bed. “Is this it?” I picked it up and looked at the blue flower inside. “It’s pretty.” I ran my finger over the box. “What’s it called?”
“What? The flower?” Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. Hydrangea or something.” He took the box from me and said, “Grab your camera. My mom’s gonna want pictures before she lets me leave the apartment. She promised my dad she’d send enough that he’d feel like he was here in person. You know how much he hates missing this stuff.”
He picked his jacket up from the back of his chair, I snagged my camera from where I’d left it on the bed, and we walked toward his bedroom door. Suddenly, he paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked at me.
“Charlie?” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
His gaze locked on mine, but he didn’t say anything for several long seconds; he just licked his lips and furrowed his brow. “Thank you,” he said eventually.
I wasn’t sure what he was thanking me for, but it didn’t make a difference. My response would have been the same no matter what.
“Anytime,” I said.
Chapter 4
INTRODUCTION
Charlie (“Chase”) Rhodes
THIS one isn’t a picture, but it’s still going in the album. I’m not usually one to fixate on dates or times. I’ve been late to enough parties and meetings and missed enough flights to prove that fact. But there are a few things, a few dates, I’ll never forget. The very first one was Scott’s prom night. Well, technically, it was the next day, because midnight had passed.
When the year ended, I tore the page out of my calendar and I’ve kept it ever since, folded into a tiny square and stuffed into a pocket in my wallet. It traveled with me as I moved from apartment to apartment, from city to city; it kept me company in cars, subways, trains, airplanes, hell, even on a cruise ship. It’s all creased and worn, but I still have it—the piece of paper marking the date of my first kiss. Our first kiss.
I’ve gotten more skilled at using my lips and tongue since then—we both have. But that first kiss… there’s never been anything else quite like it.
Charlie (“Chase”) Rhodes
“YOU were out late,” Scott’s disembodied voice said the second I opened my window.
“I saw your light on when I was walking up, but I was sure you’d left it on or something,” I answered. “It’s barely midnight. What are you doing home?”
“What do you mean? Prom ended at eleven.”
I smiled. “Well, yeah, but usually people go out after. Are you already in bed?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Just reading a little.”
“Okay, give me a minute to get washed up.” Less than five minutes later, I was in my boxer shorts crawling under my blanket. “I’m back,” I said as I flicked off the light on my nightstand.
“Where were you?” Scott asked.
“Uh, the bathroom.” I furrowed my brow. “I told you I was going to get ready for bed.”
“No, not just now. Where were you tonight? You never stay out this late.” He paused, and when he spoke again, he was so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him. “I thought you’d be here when I got back.”
He sounded sad or disappointed or something. I wondered if he’d had a bad night.
“I went to a movie with Selina and then we got some pie at the diner on the corner. Is everything okay?”
Truthfully, if I had known Scott was home, I would have wrapped things up earlier. Selina had been exhausted, but I didn’t want to go home and obsess about when Scott would be back or what he was doing or whether he was going to follow the time-honored tradition of boffing his prom date. And because she was a good friend, Selina kept me company and distracted me with funny stories about her family in Puerto Rico, where she planned to spend the summer.
“Yeah,” Scott said. He was quiet for a few breaths. “I just missed you tonight.”
My heart came crashing to a stop and then started jackhammering in my chest. Scott and I were friends—close friends, even. We spent a bunch of time together, laughed a lot, talked. But saying we missed each other because we were apart for a handful of hours? No, that was outside the bounds of our relationship.
“Did something happen tonight?” I asked as I tried to work out what was going on with him.