Disorderly Conduct

by Tessa Bailey

  “Everything is going to be fine,” she whispers, dragging me into the safety she began representing to me, somewhere along the line. “He’s getting the best care, and everything is going to be okay, Charlie.”

  “But I’m not okay.” I pull back, cupping the sides of her beautiful, singular face. The face I see in my dreams and while I’m awake. I never stop, and I was a fucking idiot to think I could let her go. “I’m not okay without you, Ever.”

  “Charlie.” Her eyelids flicker as she looks down. “You’re going through a difficult time right now, and you’re not thinking straight. We should talk about this when your father is out of the woods.”

  “No.” Oh God, this is what I was worried about, without being able to pinpoint it. I’ve been so goddamn elusive and unpredictable, coming in and out of her life, she isn’t taking me seriously when I need it most. “No, you don’t . . . just . . . please. Look me in the eye. Before we fell asleep in your bed, before your mother called, I started to ask you to be with me. All the time, cutie. All the time. But I panicked when I heard those things she said to you. About coming home to someone every night. Having someone you can depend on. And I didn’t think I could deliver. I knew I couldn’t.” My heart has veered into a wild, never-ending drum solo, but I push. I push. Because I have no choice. This is do or die. It has been all along. I was just too stupid and short sighted to realize it. “But it took this fucked-up thing happening for me to understand. I understand now why I can look at you, Ever, and be happy and sad and horny and miserable and crazy and want to laugh—all at the same time. I’m in love with you. I love you so much. And you can depend on that. You can depend on me for the rest of your life. I won’t let you go for anything. Just give me a chance to show you.” I point in the general direction of my father’s room. “This job? It can work around us. This world can work around me and the girl I love. Okay? This isn’t a tragedy talking. This is what’s inside me and I’m handing it all over, because you’re the only one I trust to make sense of me. You make sense of me.”

  She’s quiet for so long, I’m tempted to look for the closest window, so I can dive through it headfirst into traffic. But no. Even if she has to think about everything I said, I will keep coming at her. I’m not packing it in. I’m not giving up, so she can just—

  “I knew you were a relationship guy all along.” She sounds almost awestruck. “Ever since you failed the test and said you cried during the wrong scene in Titanic. I knew you were a relationship guy deep down, and I still went home with you.”

  My head is spinning. Is this good or bad? Do I need a decoder ring in order to learn my fate? “What does that mean?”

  “It means I love you, too, Charlie.”

  She looks a little shocked at having said the words out loud, but it does nothing to lessen the impact of total, blinding rapture. I don’t even think my feet are touching the floor, but I manage to trap her against the wall, my hands flattened on the cinderblock above her head. “Get out of town.”

  “I do.” Her laugh is gorgeous and watery, her eyes shining. “For a long time. Even before we tried to be friends—”

  I shoot forward and snag her mouth in a kiss, but a dull note of panic starts to beat in my chest. I’m kissing her half because she loves me, half because the words before we tried to be friends just sent me screaming back into reality. The speed dating, the fire alarm at the tapas place, the lies I told. She knows none of it. Would she still love me if she knew? Or would she look at me as if I betrayed her? Did I?

  Yeah. Jesus. I did.

  As if I can erase the moronic things I did to ruin her noble plans, I press Ever back against the wall and give her everything I have to offer. Every ounce of feeling in my body, head to toe. Our mouths are the hungriest they’ve ever been, because there’s no holding back when you love someone. When they know it. Feel it. These are things I’m learning on the fly, and I can’t believe I was ever scared of this. Terror is being without this.

  My tongue makes promises to her and she understands, responds with a whimper. I didn’t even have a second to savor winning her back, before the prospect of losing her again hits me. Hits me hard, like a spike between the shoulder blades. But I’m a man who’s scared of losing his woman, so I do what I’m driven toward. I try to distract from the oncoming pain with my body. To give her something to remember when she wants to murder me. I stroke her between the legs with my bulge, dragging it up and back, nudging her onto her toes. All the while, my lips pry apart her swollen, wet ones, giving her my breath, licks of my tongue.

  “I love you.” My mouth races along the underside of her chin, my hands climbing the backs of her thighs. “Oh God, I love you. Just try to be patient and understanding with me. Can you do that?”

  She nods, her face glowing. But she has no idea what I’m talking about. Not yet. “You’re going to come to my place when your father is better. You’ll stay the night.” Her eyes flicker. “We’ll take it slow, but you’ll stay, won’t you?”

  Jesus, I can’t believe she still doubts me. “I don’t want to sleep without you. Ever again. And fuck taking it slow. I want to meet your mother. Want to charm her and explain that I’ll be the one you count on, just like she hoped for. I want clothes and a toothbrush at your place. I want keys. And I want the people in your building to buzz me in when I forget my key, because they know I’m your boyfriend. I want to walk you home from concerts and dance to our song when it comes up on shuffle. You and me, Ever. I want it to be you. And me.”

  Her breath whooshes out against my lips. “Me, too. I want all those things. I feel like I’ve wanted them forever, but I didn’t know until you said them.”

  I would love to go on standing there forever, making her promises. But there’s no option but to tell her what I’ve done. To let her know I disregarded the importance of fulfilling her mother’s wishes and tried to make her my fuck buddy. I hate myself right now. I do, so I try to bury it all inside her. Lifting her against the wall and molding our bodies together. There’s a sliver of clarity left in my mind, so I know I can’t take Ever in this hallway, but I can remind her we’re so good together. Maybe it’ll help. Maybe.

  “Charlie.” She gasps when my teeth nip into her neck. “I know you’re upset, but . . .” I squeeze her ass and she turns pliant, going limp between me and the wall. “I think we need to get back to the waiting room. I’m not going anywhere. We’re not going anywhere. There’s time for everything.”

  Now or never. I press my face into her hair. “Ever . . .”

  “Charlie.” My brother’s voice finds me from around the corner. “The doctor is coming out to speak with us. He’s bringing us in to see Dad, too.”

  Worry for my father blasts back to the forefront, but revealing my treachery to Ever is there, too, clashing with it. Blackening my vision. She’s there, though, stroking the sides of my face, kissing me hard on the mouth. Loving me, grounding me. “Hey, that sounds like good news. They wouldn’t bring you in to see him if things were getting worse, right?” Another sweet kiss on my cheek. “Go. I’ll be here when you come back.”

  I pull away, but I’m tempted to bring her with me. “Please be here.”

  “Why would I be anywhere else?” She covers her mouth a moment, then drops her hands to reveal an expression of pure, flushed happiness. “I love you.”

  Dear God, please let that love stay strong through what comes next.

  Chapter 24

  Ever

  Charlie loves me. I love him back. We said the words. We meant them.

  I’m floating on a cloud of purple smoke back to the waiting room, probably with eyes the shape of hearts. There is a lessening of tension at the nurses’ station that bolsters my theory that Charlie’s father is going to be okay. Thank God. I’ve never seen Charlie looking more haunted than the moment I arrived, like everything he knew had been shaken. I’m going to be there for him. He . . . needs me to be there. I still can’t believe it. We started out as two people who didn�
�t want anything serious and now, we want it all.

  Before I push open the door, I stop to collect myself. I swear, my heart is lodged somewhere between my throat and breastbone, pounding out of control. This morning, I woke up thinking the man I love was lost to me. He wasn’t, though. He came roaring back, and I realize now I should have had faith. I wouldn’t love a man who could give me up so easily.

  He didn’t give me up at all, really, had he? No, he became my friend. He listened and understood why I wanted to find something serious. He’d confided in me, too. And now we are stronger for it. Lovers, friends . . . boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe the attempt to strictly be friends had been a little far-fetched for two people who shared such a strong attraction, but Charlie had stuck with it. Showing up and supporting me, even though it couldn’t have been easy to watch me try to date. Try being the operative word. I was never meant to spend a single minute in another man’s company, though, and—

  My hand flies up and smacks my forehead.

  Reve. I forgot about the date.

  I push through the waiting room doors and find my purse on a low, gray table, someone obviously having put it there after I dropped it. Danika sends me a slow wave, one corner of her mouth ticking up. “I assume from your smeared lipstick the talk went well,” she says, flipping the page of her magazine. “Atta boy, Charlie.”

  Jack winks at me, but it’s friendly, if a bit . . . roguish. “Looking forward to having you around more, Ever. Guess I’ll have to start wearing pants around the apartment.”

  I laugh, sounding like a complete schoolgirl, because I’m still flying high over Charlie loving me. Loving Charlie back. “It’ll be worth the leftovers I bring over.”

  Danika and Jack give each other a fist bump.

  I cross the room and dig through my purse, taking out my phone. Looking at my torn reflection on the screen for a beat, I open the dating app, feeling obligated to message Reve and cancel the date. Shit, though. It’s already seven forty. He’s probably on the train riding to the restaurant. Or worse, he arrived early and is sitting at the table, waiting for me. Guilt sits heavy in my stomach. Maybe the man is nothing more than a casual online acquaintance, but I don’t want to be the girl who stands him up. After the shit show that has been my foray into the dating scene and watching Nina deal with her breakup, I know how being treated without care or respect takes its toll.

  It occurs to me how close we are to the restaurant. The hospital is only one avenue and six blocks from the Mexican food place where we’d planned to eat. I cast a glance toward the waiting room door, then back toward my cell phone clock. It would only take me twenty minutes to get to the restaurant, explain to Reve in person that I’m serious about someone else, but still appreciate him being so nice and giving up his evening to come meet me. I will probably be back before Charlie comes back out from meeting with the doctor and visiting his father.

  Just do it. You’ll feel better about it and save someone a blow to their self-esteem.

  “You guys, I have to run somewhere really quick.” I shoulder my purse, cell phone in hand, tapping it against my thigh. “Can you tell Charlie I’ll be right back if he comes out before I return? I’m just nipping down the street.”

  They exchange a look and nod.

  It’s not until I’m dodging evening foot traffic on my way down the avenue that I realize Charlie’s friends had looked . . . worried. Or something that wasn’t on par with me running an errand they knew nothing about. A need to return to Charlie as soon as possible, to be there and comfort him, kicks my pace into a jog. I can’t account for the yawning pit in my stomach, though. Almost like something is hovering just on the edge of my conscience, but isn’t quite ready to be plucked free yet.

  When I reach the restaurant, it’s packed, people spilling out onto the sidewalk, debating whether or not to wait for a table. Knowing Reve made a reservation, I wade through the gathering of people to the hostess.

  “Hi, I’m meeting someone. A table for two under Reve . . .”

  “Yes.” She runs a silver fingernail down the list. “He’s not here yet. If you’d like to have a seat?”

  Balancing on the balls of my feet, I battle the urge to charge back to the hospital and forget this whole mission to be a decent human being. But it’s still only seven fifty-two. Reve won’t be late for eight more minutes. Eight more minutes, then I could swing by a bakery, pick up some cookies and be back at the hospital in no time.

  In the scheme of things, what’s eight minutes?

  Charlie and I are on an unlimited minutes plan now.

  I squeeze into the red, leather booth with a smile on my face, ready to intercept Reve when he walks through the door.

  Charlie

  Even in sleep, my father looks pissed off.

  He woke up a few minutes ago, nodding at Greer and me in turn, by way of actual words. He’d saved those up for the doctor, who was clearly already fed up with the surly police chief. Before they’d even admitted him to the ICU, he’d demanded to know when he could go home. Relief floated like helium in my gut, even if there was still a lingering uneasiness over having watched my father drop down to mortal status.

  Greer stands beside the bed updating him on department news from the last few hours, while my father fusses with the nose tubes and frowns at the beeping machine. He hasn’t brought up asking for our mother immediately following the heart attack, but there’s a knowledge hanging in the air, all three of us aware it happened. If things remained status quo, we’ll never discuss it. We’ll pretend it never happened. But I’m tired of the norm. Living as though ignorance is preferable to confronting anything emotional? That almost lost me Ever. Still might, depending on the mercy of the woman I love with every bone in my body.

  Greer finishes his gravelly spiel and silence settles in the room. I can tell my father expects us to leave. Just like that. As if he didn’t almost die on the local news.

  “I’m glad you’re going to be okay,” I start, two sets of eyes pinning me before the words have fully emerged.

  My father tips his chin up. “Me, too. I need to get back on the clock.”

  “Yeah.” I shove both hands into my pockets. “I meant I’m glad you’re going to be okay, because you’re my dad. Our dad.” They’re looking at me like I have sixteen heads. “Maybe work isn’t the most important thing. Not always. Not every time.”

  “There’s a girl,” Greer says to my father, as if three little words could adequately explain Ever. All the words in the world couldn’t do her justice.

  “There is a girl. Ever Carmichael. I’m going to try to keep her forever, if she’ll let me.” Christ, is my Adam’s apple swelling up? “I almost let her go, though, for reasons that seemed really stupid with death on the line, you know?” No answer. “I was afraid of her leaving like Mom left us. I thought it would be inevitable, once I started working around the clock, the way I’m supposed to. The way I’ve been taught is the only way.” I think of her out in the waiting room, fresh and flushed from kissing me. “When it comes time to take the lieutenant’s exam, I’m opting out.”

  My father sits up straighter against the pillows. “What do you mean? Of course you aren’t. We’ve been grooming you for this since you were in middle school.”

  “You’ve also drilled the importance of sacrifice into my head. We sacrifice, because it’s our job. Sacrifice our lives, our safety.” I jab the air with my finger. “I’m prepared to do those things. I’m going to be a damn good cop. But I’m making a sacrifice for her, because she’s what makes me happy. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t wish, every once in a while, that you’d made some sacrifices for Mom. Tell me you don’t have regrets. I know I do. I can’t even remember saying thank you. Or I love you.”

  Greer’s gaze snaps to mine, then over to my father. “For fuck sake, Charlie. Does this seem like a good time to get him upset?”

  My father holds up a hand, tubes extending to the clear drip beside the bed. “I’m not upset
.” His sigh seems to take an hour escaping. “First of all, I remember you saying those things. She loved her children. I’m the reason she left.”

  Until I hear the words out loud, I don’t realize how much I believed it was me who sent her packing. All me. Even against common sense, I thought I was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The last ditch effort to save a marriage that wasn’t working, but ended up only making it worse. There’s no miraculous lessening of weight off my shoulders, though, because I see my father is carrying it. There’s no winner here.

  “The department makes me happy. My work makes me happy.” His eyes lift to mine, shoot away. “But it doesn’t love a man back. The job put me in this bed. This, my body, is my sacrifice. Your mother was a sacrifice, too. And I think I’ve done a lot of good for this city because of those sacrifices.”

  “No one is questioning that,” Greer says quietly. I nod.

  “I should have tried harder, though,” my father surprises me by saying. “She was only asking for me to try a little harder. To be a husband, as well as a cop. I could have done it, but I was selfish. And then she was gone.” His jaw flexes, his nostrils flaring on an inhale. “I’m . . . proud of you, Charlie. For recognizing happiness. I’m still not sure I know what it looks like.”

  “Happiness is a she. I can introduce you to her.”

  Greer groans. “Jesus, you fucking sap.”

  My father laughs as I punch Greer in the shoulder. “It’s going to happen to you someday. Then we’ll see who’s a sap.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. Someone has to pick up your slack, now that you’ve decided to play house.” His shrug is stiff, but his lips are twitching. “I guess if you’re signing up to be whipped by a woman, might as well make her a hot blonde.”