one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor, lucy and charlie

April 6 - 10pm

So, Charlie wasn't the hippest guy around, but he did know a few places in town to grab a beer or three, catch the game and waste an evening chuckling and shouting at the tv with a bunch of other guys. Again, not the hippest. He was proud to say that he had ventured inside of The Vibe before, though, with friends, and even dance, quite successfully. He didn't take Luciana for a clubbing kind of girl, but he doubted she wanted to sit and watch a baseball game with him either. At The Vibe, they could have a few drinks, find a quiet area and talk, and then hopefully, if she could relax enough, he could talk her into a dance or two. Charlie was dying to get close to the girl, for a number of reasons, not all perverted ones, thank you very much.

He'd given her the evening to adjust, gone back to his place to pack up a few more boxes as they now had their own place in Evergreen together, and changed to go out. A simple pair of dark worn in jeans with a fitted grey t-shirt and a black and blue flannel over it, left unbuttoned, did the trick, and his "shit kickers" - a pair of well worn Tims - completed the outfit. He barely ran a brush through his curls and trimmed up the scruff before pocketing his wallet and heading out the door. He still couldn't believe he and Lucy were married, let alone speaking to each other again. He'd apologized, and doubted she really thought he was genuine. Hopefully the liquor would smooth everything out between them. Or at least get them off on the right foot.

Parking in the driveway, he hopped up the stoop and buzzed her apartment, waiting patiently for her to answer. However calm he looked, it was a total facade and he was kicking himself for giving up cigarettes a few years back, as now that was the only thing his body itched for, save for the gorgeous woman whom he hoped would grace him with her presence. "Come on, Lucy," he muttered under his breath, hands shoved into his pockets.

Lucy had had a good cry in the car on the way home, so there was no concealing it when she walked back into her apartment and trevor was still sitting on the couch fiddling with his game. Exactly where she’d left him. She’d walked past him and his questions, stripped off her wedding dress, threw it in the corner of the room and flopped face down on the bed.

He’d assumed it was stood up the sequel, so he’d gone to her freezer gotten the cookie dough, the big spoon and flopped down onto her bed with her. And with a little prodding he’d gotten the information out of her. Which they discussed in great detail, for quite awhile. It was odd for her, as they hadn’t mentioned Charlie or anything to do with him in years. It was taboo. They ignored it, and now it couldn’t be ignored anymore.

“He broke my heart.” She said, “How am I supposed to do this?”

“Suck it up and put on your big girl panties is what you do. Alright.” He said taking the spoon from her, as it was poised halfway to her mouth. “We’re done wallowing for now. Your going to get your cute butt up and into something short and tight. Flaunt around what he tossed aside, is the game plan. You said he’s coming back for you right, we can’t be seen like this.” He said waving a gesture in her general direction.

“I’m not going. And if I was I certainly wouldn’t want to look like I’m trying to look nice. Screw him.”

They bickered a little more about whether or not she was going and what she would be wearing when she did. Her life almost felt normal at that specific point. In the end, he’d won, Lucy stood in the middle of the room, dressed in clothes he picked out complaining that it was chilly outside and she’d freeze to death. Then someone buzzed her apartment from outside. The two friends looked at each other and lucy shook her head.

“Tell him I’m sick, I died, I can’t go. I need more time.”

“No way. Bite the bullet babe.” He shook his head back at her and they both scrambled to get to the intercom first. He beat her by a few steps and his hand landed on the button first. “She’ll be right down.” He nearly sang.

“I hate you.” She said as she slipped on a pair of shoes and looked around for her purse, shrugging on her jacket as she searched.

“You love me, now got get em.” He said, giving her backside a smack for good measure as she walked out her door. She took the stairs and she took her time from her fourth floor apartment. The only saving grace of this whole day trying day was that there would be alcohol very soon.

She nearly walked right into him when she came out the door, not paying attention, lost in her own thought, and she stumbled a bit, her arm shot out and grabbed him to steady herself. Lucy cleared her throat and straightened herself out. "Hey, sorry." She said giving him a once over, her hand still clutching his arm, he looked good, she hadn't noticed that through her shock at the church. But she always found him very attractive, that had never been their problem.

She glanced down at her hand and let it drop back to her side and tried her best to offer him a sincere looking smile. "So do you wanna drive or...?"

Charlie waited for what felt like hours, fretting silently over whether or not she'd come down. For all he knew, she could've packed her things and hit the road in the amount of time he'd given her. And he wouldn't have blamed her. When a man's voice answered, his brow crinkled, confused for a moment. She lived with someone else? A man no less. What was this, some secret boyfriend? Yes, because she'd have signed up for The Vow if she'd had one. Charlie was pro at psyching himself out, but he shook his head, trying to conceal the worry when he heard the door open.

God, she was fucking gorgeous. Everything about her was perfect. And those legs. His arm wiped across his mouth quickly, certain he'd been drooling before she bumped right into him. "Whoa," he smiled, setting a hand on her arm to help her regain balance. "Hey. Hi. Uh. I'm really glad you came. You look amazing," he blurted out, unable to hide how excited he was that he'd been given this chance. His other arm pulled out from behind his back and he presented her with a bouquet of purple orchids, swallowing hard. "So I know you like lilacs, but those were impossible to find on short notice, but I was told orchids are really nice. I wanted to do something other than roses, because you're more... unique than that."

His stomach flip flopped as he looked up at her, the dopey grin present on his face, hoping she'd accept the bouquet. If not, hey, he tried, right? "And I'll drive. Or we could get a cab. Whatever you'd like to do."

“Yeah well I thought about going on the lamb and hitching to Mexico but it just seemed like a lot of work.” She joked awkwardly and then he’d said she looked amazing. “Oh,” she glanced down at herself slightly self-conscious and pulled her jacket closed, fastening a button. “Thanks, You don’t clean up too bad yourself.”

He’d remembered that she liked lilacs, her favorite in fact, it made her smile. The first truly sincere smile that she’d offered him that day. And even though he’d handed her orchids, they were pretty and thoughtful. He didn’t have to do that for her. She couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had given her flowers.

“Their beautiful, thank you.” She said taking the flowers from him, and brought them up to her face, smelling them for a moment of indulgence.

Calling a cab would mean waiting for said cab. Which would mean she’d have to invite him upstairs to wait, and not only was her apartment a mess, which wasn’t unusual, but trevor had yet to vacate her apartment, while he had his own two floors down he cited that she had a bigger tv and a better cable package so he rarely left unless it was to eat, sleep or work. And he would probably make everything a thousand times worse, because for some odd reason he was in the camp that this was actually a good thing that they'd been matched together. He said it was like fate.Their dynamic would change she knew, now that she was married. They’d been two single people who spent nearly every day together. It would be different now. It made her a little sad. When Charlie was gone, Trevor had been the only thing that had kept her together.

“You know that would be fine, if you don’t mind.” She said looking over at one of the only unfamiliar cars she spotted in the lot. She didn’t know how comfortably his 6 plus frame would be able to cram into her tiny pink beetle. So she'd much prefer if he drove.

They made their way over to the car and she slipped into the passager side seat and buckled her seat belt, crossing her legs, trying to tug it down as best she could and set her pursing firmly in her lap. While she'd thought the skirt that had been thrown at her earlier was short, it rode up a few more inches when she sat down, bordering on indecent.

Once they got going, she started fiddling with the buttons on his preset, there was a lot you could tell about a person by their radio stations, that was what her father always said anyway. She resisted crinkling her nose at the music that came blaring out as they drove. But she tended to snub anything that wasn't eighties rock and roll anyway.

"You still have awful taste in music I see" she commented. "I mean that in nicest possible way of course."

"Well, I'm sure glad you stuck around," Charlie told her with a crooked smile, nodding his head. "Yeah, of course. I really did try for lilacs. The woman at the flower shop suggested these instead. They're still purple..." He wasn't sure if that's what had drawn Lucy to the lilacs in the first place, but it was a suitable second place flower in his opinion. The poor man knew very little about flowers, other than roses equaled cliches.

Not calling a cab meant that Charlie would have to stay sober enough to drive them back. Hopefully to his place, if she let him. Yeah, right. Like that'd happen. A guy could dream, but that was really stretching it. He supposed he could call them a cab on the way back though, and leave his car in the lot over night. While he didn't like using his small flash of fame, he was Charlie Lewis, former Red Sox pitcher after all... the idea of flaunting that merit made him chuckle, and he nodded at Lucy. "I'll drive." Walking to her side of the car, he opened the door and bowed his head slightly. "Your chariot, madame."

Climbing into the driver's side, he buckled quickly and backed out, trying not to let his eyes stray from the road, though Lucy's short skirt line was making that terribly difficult. Of course Charlie loved her for reasons other than her look (yes, love), but she was definitely not an eyesore either. And that perfume... and how close she was... he could reach out and touch her. Lucy. His wife. He still couldn't get over that. Charlie grinned as he shook his head. "Says the woman who enjoys Def Leppard," he quipped. "Nothing wrong with a little Dave Matthews."

To say that lucy followed baseball was a gross understatement. She’d grown up in a house dominated by men, of which sports were the epicenter. Football, basketball, hockey, you name it, but baseball was king. Two of her brothers had played, and she’d been with Charlie which meant that her childhood and adolescence had been to eat, slept and breathe baseball. She’d sat with her friends in gaggle on the bleachers watching practice, giggling and whispering over him. She’d been in the stands every game night, wearing his number and waving the schools colors as she cheered him on. She’d had to watch him play professionally, her heart broken in pieces.

So she knew what kind of clout he could wield if he wanted, but he wasn't the type. Well the guy she'd known wasn't the type anyway. She was hardly impressed by it. She was kind of ashamed, in the only way a true baseball fan could be. Lucy, though some people would say was a baseball cliché, was a die hard yankee fan. She took his addition to the red sox almost personally. Like it was some kind of jab at her specifically.

"Eyes on the road tiger." she said with a smirk catching his line of sight. It was almost ogling, and she would give trevor a good sock in the gut for not letting her leave the house in a nice respectable pair of jeans. But she couldn’t hide smile number two behind the faux offended look when he mentioned Def Lepard. It was like settling back into a comfortable pattern. A groove that had always been the perfect fit for her, but could only lead to disaster.

“I will defend to the death that ‘All I want is everything’, is the best song ever written.” She said with absolute certainty. “And the Dave Matthews Band sucks, of which I have proof, that concert you made me sit through was four hours of my life I’ll never get back.” She said and then suddenly frowned. Playfulness gone like the snap of a finger.

She was quiet the rest of the ride to the club after that. This was why being matched with him was difficult. This whole process was about marrying someone you didn’t know. Someone you had no history with. And their history was getting in her way. She couldn’t relax, she couldn’t enjoy herself because all these memories were flashing in her mind, his face was flashing in her mind at every turn. She’d loved him desperately, and then he was just gone. As if she’d never even existed. He was just another face flickering across the tv screen when she and her father watched games.

Drink. Now. It was all she could think when they parked in the half filled parking lot. She practically leapt out of the car and away from the awkwardness of her silence. Walking to the back of the car she waited for him and they headed in together. A couple. It was absolutely surreal.

A cheeky grin spread across Charlie's face at her comment but he nodded politely, trying to hide the smile. For a brief moment, it was like they'd never been apart. The familiarity, the comfort, the teasing back and forth, it was perfect. They just slid right into it, so easily, like they'd never slipped from each others grasp. His heart skipped, the feeling overwhelming, something between deja vous and euphoria, though it all came too soon. Moments later, Lucy had slipped back into her sullen mood, refusing to speak the rest of the ride.

Charlie wasn't sure what had triggered it but he felt stupid for feeling like he was in the clear so early. He hadn't meant to. It was her fault. He just felt... comfortable. And it was stupid of him. He fell for her so fast, not that he'd ever gotten over for her, but it'd healed. He'd accepted that he'd never get her back and now here she was. One glance and he was wrapped around her stubborn little finger, whether she knew it or not. Charlie continued the drive in silence, kicking himself, and parked, climbing out to join her at the back of the car. His hand reached out to set around her lower back, but he hesitated, thinking for a moment that she might bite his arm right off.

Looking up, he caught sight of a pair of younger guys with eyes for the woman beside him. Something in Charlie stirred, not possessiveness (he'd never been that much of a dickhead), more like a need to protect her. Not that she needed it. Charlie was more than certain she could handle herself and tell off anyone who thought they could creep on in. He'd learned first hand. One of the men let out a low whistle while the other shouted 'hey baby', and Charlie was over the edge. His arm wound snuggly around her waist as he tugged her close, shooting daggers at the boys who dared to think they stood a chance. He directed her right inside and braced himself for a hand across the face, or something brash from Lucy as his arm dropped. "Sorry," he added quickly, hoping maybe that would atone for his actions.

She was hyper-aware of how hot and cold she was running. She wasn’t that girl. She hated those girls. She’d always prided herself on being that laid back chick, let things lay as they fall. Fate or destiny and all of that bullshit. She never let herself get distracted by things she couldn’t change. But it was Charlie. The guy. The only guy. And she was fighting an internal tug of war. Part of her wanted to just wrap her arms around him and forget everything that had happened, and the other part was screaming in her mind that he’d left her here to rot. There was hope there for him, he just had to pick away at her to find it.

“Charlie Lewis.” She said turning to him with bemusement when they were safely inside, his hand dropping away from her. She was only disappointed for a moment when he did so. “Were you defending my honor? God that’s adorable.” She glanced around the club “Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll get some drinks.” She said gesturing towards the bar. “ Still beer right?” she asked, taking a few backwards steps.

Turning she made her way through the small crowd towards the bar. She knew the guy tending bar tonight. She’d tutored him in calculus when they were in high school and she may have spent a few lonely nights with him every once in awhile in recent years, but mostly they were friends. He was a frequent customer of hers as well, always obsessed with what the cards felt the need to warn him about. But the look he was sending her was not one of easy friendship tonight.

“Is that who I think it is?” nick asked from behind the bar when she got close enough.

“ Yep.” She nodded “a shot of everclear?” she asked leaning against the bar.

“So hometown hero limps home and you just pick up where you left off?” he asked pouring her a shot and setting it on the bar with a small thump. That was the thing about growing up in a small town. Anyone who knew you, they knew all your shit too.

“Not exactly.” She said, tipping back the shot glass, grimacing at the intense burn making its way down her throat. She held up her left hand flashing the wedding ring that was weighing heavy on her finger.

“Shut the fuck up.” He said grabbing her hand “You married him?” Lucy pulled her small hand away gently and held up two fingers.

“I don’t want to get into it. Beers and a whiskey, neat.”

“I’ll run a tab.” He said, his tone cool as she grabbed the beers by the neck in one hand and her glass of whiskey with the other. She spotted Charlie and made a beeline, avoiding the questioning looks from any familiar faces that she saw as she passed.

“So,” she said nudging a bottle towards him after she shrugged off her coat “ what are you doing with yourself these days now that your-“ the word has-been lingered bitterly on the tip of her tongue but she wasn’t that mean. “retired,” she said choosing her word purposefully. “Are you a man of leisure or selling used cars.” She joked “I hear athletes love to sell used cars.”

The ex-pitcher rolled his eyes, unamused with her patronizing comment. "Did you see the way they were looking at you? Like you were a piece of meat. It's rude. Beyond rude. They're fuckin' lucky a lady was present or I woulda..." he drifted off, face twisted in a small scowl. "Nah, you wouldn'ta noticed. You never did realize how damn pretty you are." The scowl shifted into something resembling a smile and he nodded when she mentioned grabbing beers for them. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he answered, trudging off to find a table.

Charlie felt completely out of place, and out of his element. He didn't know what'd come over him in the parking lot. So a couple of guys thought his wife was hot? He didn't need to get all possessive. Coulda flipped 'em the bird and been done. But Lucy didn't deserve to be whistled and cat called at, not by those fucking assholes. It was her that'd come over him. He couldn't be a rational being around her. She made him absolutely crazy. And he kind of liked it. Making himself comfortable, Charlie rolled up the sleeves of his plaid unbuttoned shirt, the grey tee hugging his chest, and propped his elbows up on the table, trying to act natural. He much preferred the safety of a dark pub where all eyes were on the game, and not on everyone else. Where most eyes were popping out to get a better look at Lucy, Charlie couldn't help but feel they were on him for other reasons. Like, 'hey, you're too old for a dance club' or 'she's so far out of your league you lucky asshole'.

To say he was relieved when she handed off a beer was an understatement. "Thanks," he mumbled quickly, popping off the top bit of metal and sucking down almost half of it. He felt better now that she had joined him at the table, like everything else was just background again, all of his attention devoted to her. He chuckled at her question, shaking her head. "N'aw, I teach U.S History at the high school in town," he answered, sucking down another sip. "What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?"

She tried very hard not to laugh when he scowled at her. But she couldn’t quite bite back the amused smile as he ranted about her being ogled like a piece of meat. Lucy knew how to take care of herself. She always had, she’d never deferred her problems or troubles to any of the men in her life, be it father, brother or boyfriend. She hadn’t needed his help when she was seven and one of the boys at the park pushed her off the monkey bars and she hadn’t needed his help when she was fifteen and Bobby O’conor had copped a feel when he drove her home from school one day. He’d felt the need to intervene anyway. And she certainly didn’t need it because a couple of drunk guys were whistling in her direction. She’d be offended if he wasn’t so damn adorable. She was starting to remember what she found so charming about him.

He was a history teacher, wasn’t that a curveball. She didn’t know what she imagined he’d be doing if baseball was out of the picture, but that hadn’t been it. Her mother would love that, something normal and respectable. But the moment the thought passed her mind she tried to push it away. Thinking about her family right now was not on her list. She didn’t want to think about telling them she was married and to whom. That was something to deal with on another day. There was only so much strength one person could possess.

“Well isn’t that very respectable and suburban of you.”

She wasn’t sure what he’d think of her or what he expected her answer to be. If he’d be surprised. If he’d even thought of her and what she was doing when he was gone. She’d never had one of those grand dreams. Never had something that pulled at her like most people she knew. It seemed like when the time came, everyone else, all her friends, they all knew what they wanted to do with their life. And she’d been content to idle in hers. She’d gone to college because that’s what you did after high school. It was what was expected.

“I’m evergreen’s very own mystic lady. The reigning queen of woo woo bullshit.” She said pausing to take a few large swallows from her whiskey. “I flip tarot cards and read palms among other things.” She elaborated as she brought her glass back to her lips, studying him over the rim, taking a few gulps. "My mother of course is horrified." she said over a grimace, an after shock of the liquor. "I guess I would be too, business degrees are expensive I hear. Quite a lot actually, I might cut her a check one day. But mostly I think its the outfit. What does she call it? Gypsy hooker chic." she said with a definitive nod and drank again.

“How long have you been back?” she asked after a few beats of silence, setting her glass back on the table, tracing a small twisting pattern across the smooth wood of the table infront of her, the words slipping from her tongue before she really had a chance to think about them.

"Yes, patronize me all you want," Charlie grinned, lifting his beer and taking a long swallow. "You're so cute when you're mad." He offered a quick wink and leaned back in the chair, raising his arms above his head to stretch his shoulders. "I thought I'd told you I was majoring in History," he added before the smile vanished. He'd made a promise not to bring up the past tonight. They didn't need to murder each other on the night of their wedding. "I've always loved it, just sounded like a good idea," he added softly, feeling his face burn red. Charlie was ashamed of the things he'd done in his past where Lucy was involved. He didn't know how to make that any more clear to her at the moment, though. She wouldn't believe him, and he didn't want to start their new chapter berating her with apologies. He'd said his piece, he brought her flowers, he married her. Wasn't that proof that he was sorry and wanted a second chance he didn't deserve?

"Uh, been back about a year. Well, almost two now," he answered, dying for a subject change. "This June will end my second year teaching here in Evergreen. I taught at a school in Boston for a year before this, too." Lifting the bottle, he sucked back the rest of the beer and waved at a waitress for another, eyes glancing back at Lucy.

He cracked a smile, chuckle following and raised his brows. "Ah, I bet your mother loves that," he said before she grimaced, bringing more laughter from the man. "Gypsy hooker chic. Nice. Just how I like my women," he teased, leaning forward and holding his hand out. "Wanna take a peek? Lemme know what's in my future?" he asked, grinning.

Lucy up ended her whiskey glass when he said he’d been back for a year or more. She finished the drink faster than she could usually handle with liquor and sent the glass gingerly aside, reaching seamlessly to crack her beer open. If it wasn’t before, this was defiantly a night to get good and solidly drunk. How on earth had she not known that he was back? Why hadn’t she ever seen him? Someone she knew must have known. Someone could have told her. Their mothers were friends, her mother must have at least known. She felt like an idiot. A total fucking idiot. And Charlie wasn’t the only one dying for a subject change, she was sorry that she asked in the first place. She hadn’t really even meant too, it had just kind of slipped out before she could swallow it back. He’d never thought of seeing her? At least once. “That’s nice.” She said, tension straining her voice as she forced a smile.

Lucy snorted at his comment, but didn’t dignify it with an answer. She took a long swing from the beer and looked down at his extended palm. “I suppose I could. But don't be disappointed if I can't tell you much, cards are much better for the future tellin' ” She said, she’d flipped cards for him when they were kids after her brother had given them to her, mostly for fun since she hadn't been very good at it at the time. “Normally I charge twenty bucks but I guess I could give you the husband discount.”

She scooted closer to him and took his palm in hers, running her index finger over various lines that covered the spanse of his palm. She hmmed and hawed for a second, as she scanned, mostly for his benefit. "These small lines running up your head line tend to mean general good health and sometimes sudden wealth." she said without looking up. " And you have these little chain like things on your fate line which means emotional difficultly lies ahead, and the fate line ends at the heart line, which means you have to make sacrifices for love if you want it to work." she shifted uncomfortably in her chair and took another swig of her beer. "These little faint dashes on your heart line represent infatuations or short lived romances." she didn't comment on that and she didn't count them. She didn't want to know. "And you have one fork at the end of it. A few lines and a cross at the beginning of the fork." She murmured the last part more to herself than him. One fork meant one marriage, one eventually happy marriage, though the the cross near the beginning didn't bode well. It meant trouble, some desperate unhappiness.

"You know what, this really is all bullshit anyway." she said looking up at him, though she really did believe that there was a basis in it. "It's much more convincing with my crystal ball in the immediate vicinity, just forget about it." She noticed her finger was still lightly grazing up and down his palm, and she let it fall to the table.

She waved her empty whiskey glass at the girl when Charlie did the same, pressing her lips together forming a thin white line. She was starting to feel a small but nice whiskey buzz in her brain, relaxing her just a slight bit.

Charlie chuckled and started on his second beer as he got comfortable on the stool, his forearm outstretched, palm up for her to read. "I appreciate the discount, sweetheart," he grinned, watching as she shifted over beside him, dainty fingers brushing along his rough hand, fingers twitching as it tickled. His lips pressed in a firm line to keep from laughing, as he didn't want her to stop, not when she was so damn close, smelling like strawberry and honeysuckle and whiskey. And willingly touching him. To say he was excited was an understatement.

Progress, even if it was alcohol-induced progress. "General good health?" he scoffed, laughter following as he sucked down his beer. "Right. My shoulder would disagree, but... can't complain about anything else..." He was quiet about the money inheritance, though it was quite true. He never thought Lucy was one to marry for money, but he wanted her to give him a second chance on her own, and then tell her. "Ah, emotional difficulties." He nodded and glanced her way again, eyes lingering on her lips for longer than they should've. "Right. Sacrifices..." He'd give up anything for a second chance with Lucy. A happy ending. Finally do something right.

She pushed his hand away and he snapped out of his daze, glancing around the room as a nervous chuckle left his room. "Thanks for the reading," he murmured, downing the rest of his second beer. He wanted a third, or a few shots of Cuervo, but he was driving, and they'd only just gotten there. Charlie rubbed his hands over his jeans and sighed, looking back at Lucy. "Hey... you wanna dance?"

Her emotional state ping ponged back and forth with rapid fire when she had his hand in hers, it was much easier to hate him when he wasn’t sitting next to her, grinning at her, looking at her like she was the only woman in the world, calling her sweetheart. She wasn’t quite sure at the moment whether she wanted to rip off his face or his clothes. It could be so easy. It could be so easy to slide back into the way things had been. Feelings that she’d thought had long ago dissipated, lingered just beneath the surface. She could just pretend that it never happened, like he was some stranger she’d married, like she’d planned on. But she hated him for leaving; she hated him even more for coming back. His simple presence fucked with her mind, and the whiskey didn’t exactly help with clarity either.

Whether he meant to or not, whatever his intentions had been he’d broken her. She’d moved on with her life of course, she had friends and family, she’d had school and her job and she had a life, she hadn’t shriveled up and died like she’d wanted to those first few months. But she’d never let herself trust anyone the way she’d trusted him. She’d never let any man get that close to her again. She’d promised herself that she would never let anyone make her feel the way she did when he’d gone. She of course was a woman with needs. She had short lived affairs and a one or two alcohol induced one night stands, but nothing had ever gone further. She’d never let anyone break through the wall she put up. Her heart had been hers and hers alone for years now. She had no intention of giving that up.

Whether it was true or not, whatever had really happened, she’d thoroughly convinced herself that she’d been convenience for him back then. That she’d been bidding time for him. The closest girl in vicinity that he could talk onto her back while he’d been idling between nobody and super star. Killing time until he could make his dreams a reality. She might not have thought such vile and vicious things about him if she’d known that he’d suffered to.

But still a smile tugged at her lips when he asked if she wanted to dance as a fresh whiskey was placed in front of her. She took a gulp finishing off her beer and raised both eyebrows at him and reached for the glass. “It’s been a long time since you’ve pushed me around a dance floor. Your no spring chicken, I’m not sure you can handle it anymore.”

Still she stood, straightened her skirt and held out her hand to him, lacing her fingers through his, letting him lead her away from their corner. They’d been good at this once. Intimacy had been simple and easy. She'd loved dancing with him before, but back then she'd loved any excuse for him to get his hands on her. Something deep inside her burned for that again. Sober she probably would have politely declined, pushed the urge away, but the whiskey and beer gave her a nice warm glow, cal it nostalgia.

Charlie was ready for a flat out "no", a slap to the face, the spitting out of her drink, something dramatic, but much to his surprise... she agreed? He did a double take, staring at her outstretched hand, but as he'd said before, he was never a man to make the same mistake twice. She was giving him the second chance he was dying for, the one he'd asked her for, the one he'd grovel for. Charlie took her hand quickly and followed her from their table, feeling much more relaxed than when he'd entered, though the buzz wasn't quite there yet. Still safe to drive, though he had no intention of leaving soon.

He sputtered and laughed, shaking his head. "Aw, come on, baby, give me a little credit," he grinned, pulling her close, one arm snaking around her waist, the other holding hers securely, tucking their joined fingers against his chest. Charlie found the beat easily and started swaying with her, thankful the first tune was something a little slower, something they could practice with, get used to the way each other moved. Charlie would never forget how she felt in his arms, or the way her body wriggled to the music, but she was right - he was a little rusty. Thankfully, he wasn't tone deaf, far from it to be fair. His inner beat caught on and saved the day, though his feet did little more than shift his weight back and forth. Hopefully his good looks would make up for it.

"You're gorgeous," he murmured into her ear, leaning in to be heard over the music, the words leaving his lips before he could stop himself.