“I mean about us,” she says. “Not about how big a rubber duck would need to be before it doesn’t float anymore.”
“I still think any size would float.”
“But you couldn’t make it out of rubber, at some point it would collapse in on itself, and — no. We’re not having this conversation again,” she says.
I lean forward and steal another kiss. She’s soft and warm in the morning, yielding. I never knew that before. I like it.
“All right, get outta here,” I whisper. “Before Rusty wakes up.”
Charlie opens the door silently, peeks out into the hallway. All clear. We both tread downstairs lightly, she grabs her phone and purse from where she left them last night, and we step onto the front porch, the cool morning air raising goosebumps on my arms.
Then we both stop short at the same time.
“Fuck,” hisses Charlie, right as the same realization hits me.
I gave her a ride here yesterday. Her car’s still at her apartment.
“Crap,” she says.
“It’s okay,” I say, pushing a hand through my hair, trying to think. Rusty’s still asleep upstairs, so we’ve got time, but probably not all that much. “I’ll just…”
I glance back at the house, and for precisely one second I consider just giving Charlie a ride home right now, before Rusty wakes up. Chances are, she’ll never know she was home alone.
But then I imagine what would happen if she woke up and I wasn’t there, and I wipe that possibility from my mind.
“Look, we’re engaged, remember?” I say. “We’ll just wait for her to wake up and then we’ll take you home.”
She’s already shaking her head.
“Rusty thinks it’s fake,” she says.
“We’re going to tell her, aren’t we?”
“Not like this,” Charlie says, urgently. “She can’t just wake up with me here wearing the same outfit as yesterday with no underwear on—”
“You didn’t find it?”
“It’s there somewhere, I was in a hurry, but Daniel, we can’t just spring this on her.”
“She doesn’t have to know about the underwear.”
Charlie just gives me a look.
“Sorry,” I say.
“We need to at least plan how to tell Rusty,” she says. “We can’t just be like, hey, Charlie’s banging your dad now, by the way has anyone told you what sex is yet? Well, they did it while you were asleep.”
“I don’t think I’d go about it that way, but I see your point,” I say.
“I’m calling Elizabeth,” she says, already scrolling through her phone. “She’s a teacher, she’s probably awake right now. And if she’s not she has to forgive me.”
Charlie holds her phone to her ear and waits. And waits.
“I got her voicemail,” she says, and dials again.
Same result. Charlie makes a face, goes to dial her phone again, but I shake my head.
“Levi’s awake,” I say, pulling mine out.
Charlie looks doubtful for a moment, but then she nods.
He answers on the second ring. I keep it short and simply ask him if he can swing by the house and give Charlie a ride home.
“A ride home from Mom’s house?” he asks, his gruff voice full of unasked questions.
“Right,” I say.
There’s a moment of quiet, and I can practically hear him stroking his beard.
“Be there in twenty,” he says, and hangs up.
“Twenty minutes,” I tell Charlie, and she exhales. “You want coffee?”Chapter TwentyCharlieWhen Levi pulls up in the driveway, Daniel and I are sitting outside on the porch steps, coffee in hand, talking about nothing, watching the sunlight slowly soak through the forest that surrounds the house.
I’m on my feet before Levi’s truck comes to a stop. Daniel takes my coffee mug. Levi’s truck stops. He gets out.
Daniel leans down and kisses me. I put one hand on his shoulder without thinking, a brief, chaste kiss, and then it’s over.
“Ballet Monday?” he says.
“Sounds good,” I say, and I walk toward Levi’s truck, manage to climb into the passenger side without flashing him.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as soon as we’re both inside, seatbelts buckled. “I know it’s early, I just totally forgot that I didn’t have my car here, and we didn’t want to wake Rusty up, you know?”
Levi puts the truck into gear, and I swear there’s a quick, sneaky smile hiding under his beard.
“Naturally,” he says. “I imagine she’d have a lot of questions.”
I steal a quick glance over at Daniel’s oldest brother. Just because he tends to be the quietest, the last one to typically get involved in family arguments, and the least likely to interfere, doesn’t mean he’s the least nosy.
There’s a part of me convinced that Levi somehow knows everyone’s secrets, all the time, he just doesn’t say anything.
“Are you trying to tell me you’ve got questions?” I say, leaning back in the seat, my arm resting on the window ledge.
He’s giving me a ride home at sunrise. I probably owe him some answers. I think I can handle that. This isn’t really a secret, right? We’re supposed to be engaged, after all, though I think Levi is one of the ones who knows it’s a ruse.