by Ash, Nikki
“Nope, Lexi, I most definitely don’t like fishing.” Her voice is breathless and the knowledge that kissing me did that to her has me wanting to beat on my chest like a goddamn caveman.
“Good!” Lexi nods her approval. “But Charlie, why were you loving on my daddy?” Charlie’s head swings to mine, her eyes pleading for me to help her.
“Umm…well…” Charlie stumbles on her words and I almost want to stand back and wait to hear what she says, but I don’t. Instead, I come to the rescue. “I was teaching Charlie some fighting moves and she was thanking me.” Okay, that probably wasn’t the best explanation, but cut me some slack here. I’m improvising.
Mason cracks up laughing. “Really? Charlie, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m the real fighter in this room. I can show you moves for days. Tristan here just owns the place… I’m the expert.” He smiles wide and I shoot him the finger behind Lexi’s back. Fucker! I look over to Charlie, and luckily she’s silently laughing.
“I thought you were watching Lexi… at home,” I say, changing the subject.
“Yeah, but you also said you would be home by seven. I have a date tonight and it’s almost eight.” Holy shit, I had no idea we were at this for so long.
“Damn, sorry about that. Go ahead and take off. Thanks for watching her.”
“No worries. See ya, Lexi girl,” Mason calls out. Before he leaves, he adds, “See ya, Charlie. No more fishing tonight you two.” He gives Charlie a wink and she giggles, shaking her head.
“Ugh! I love Uncle Mason, but I really hate fishing.” Lexi huffs.
“Did Uncle Mason feed you dinner?” Lexi darts her eyes to the side, which tells me he gave her junk food and she doesn’t want to snitch on him. “I’m going to go use the bathroom and shut the gym down. Then we can go grab a bite to eat. Meet me in the front.”
As I reach the doorway, Charlie yells, “No!” I turn around and she’s walking toward me. “Take Lexi with you, please.”
I give her a look of confusion. “I’ll only be a minute. Just walk up to the front with her and I’ll meet you both by the front door.”
Lexi is already running out the door toward the front and Charlie’s eyes dart toward her. “Okay,” she says, her voice shaky as she follows Lexi out of the room. It takes me a second, but I realize this isn’t the first time she’s tried to stop me from leaving Lexi with her. I didn’t think much of it before, but now it definitely has me thinking.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlie
“Scotch on the rocks, a dirty martini, and a White Russian.” Veronica recites the drinks she needs and I go about making them. It’s Thursday night at Plush, and usually the club is crazy busy, but tonight it’s practically dead. Tyler said it’s because most people are attending Halloween parties. The club’s party is Saturday night and we’ll most likely be slammed. I hand Veronica the three drinks and she sighs.
“What?” I look up and she’s staring at the drinks.
“I asked for a scotch on the rocks, a dirty martini, and a White Russian. You gave me a scotch without the rocks, a Lemon Drop, and a beer.”
Huh? I look over at the drinks. Shit! She’s right. “What’s going on with you? You never mess up on orders, and we aren’t even that busy.” My thoughts go back to the other night in Tristan’s gym, on the mat, where we made out and I pretty much dry humped him like a dog in heat. I’ve never reacted that way to a man before. I can’t imagine how far we would’ve went had Lexi and Mason not walked in and interrupted us when they did. Actually, I can imagine, which is precisely why I can’t focus.
I feel my cheeks heat up as my mind conjures up all the sexual thoughts and fantasies that have been plaguing me these last few days, and Veronica gives me a knowing look. “Ohh…I know that look. Charlie! You have a man on your mind!”
Of course Bianca walks over while Veronica is saying this. “What? You have a boyfriend? How did we not know this? Who is he? Is he hot? Is he good in bed?”
Before I can answer, I hear laughter from behind me. I would recognize that sound anywhere. Turning around slowly, my suspicions are confirmed when I see Tristan sitting on a stool only a couple feet away, and judging by the smirk on his face, he heard everything.
“Please don’t go speechless on my account. I would love to know the answers to those questions myself.” His grin grows wider, and I glare his way. Needing a moment to gather myself, I make the three drinks—correct this time—and hand them off to Veronica.
Then I take the order from Bianca and make her drinks. Once I hand them off to her, I check on every customer at the bar before making my way back to Tristan.
“Is it my turn yet?” he asks. “If not, I can wait. Lexi is sleeping over at my sister’s, so I have all night.”
“It’s your turn,” I choke out. “What can I get for you?”
“An Octoberfest.” I grab the beer from the cooler, twist the top, and pour the drink into a chilled glass before handing it to him. Bianca comes over and places another order, so I start working on it.
“So you’re a dancer and a bartender?” he asks, taking a sip of his beer. Bianca chokes out a laugh and I stifle mine. Tristan looks from me to Bianca confused but continues. “How many other jobs do you have?”
“Charlie, I didn’t know you were working as a dancer. Will you still be working the bar?” Nick asks. I didn’t realize he was back from his break yet.
“Charlie?” Tristan says my name in confusion. “You’re not a dancer?”
“Nope,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I never said I was,” I point out, handing Bianca her drink order. Tristan’s head tilts to the side giving my words some thought. “You assumed. I simply didn’t correct you.” He shakes his head and grins.
“You work the bar here?”
“Yep, four nights a week.”
“Come home with me.”
“Why? Because now you know I’m not a stripper?”
He frowns. “Don’t be like that. We have hung out plenty, and the entire time I thought you were one. I apologized for my initial reaction. I’m sorry, Charlie. For assuming. For my harsh words. Please forgive me.” He gives me the cutest puppy dog pout, his bottom lip playfully jutting out, and I give in.
“I work until three.”
“Actually, I was just about to tell you, you can leave early,” Nick says. “It’s dead in here tonight. Tomorrow will be busy and Saturday will be crazy with the Halloween party. You can cut out early.”
Before I can respond, Tristan says, “Great!” He downs the last of his beer and throws a couple bills on the counter.
I pick them up to cash him out. “Okay, I just need to count my till and then we can go.” Tristan nods. I grab my till and walk it to the back room to count my money. After verifying that my receipts and cash match the computer’s totals, I clock-out and head to the front.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He drove here, so we jump into his truck. “Mason has a girl over, so I was thinking we could go somewhere.”
“Sounds good.”
“You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
Tristan doesn’t tell me where we’re going and I don’t ask. We listen to music in comfortable silence, and about thirty minutes later we pull up to Santa Monica beach. The pinks and purples of the Ferris wheel light up the surrounding area.
Tristan comes around to my side of the truck, and being a gentleman, helps me down. Holding my hand, he guides me to a café on the pier. “Let’s order it to go and eat on the beach.” After we get our food, he runs into a touristy shop and comes back out with a large blanket.
We make our way down to the beach and pick a spot close enough that we can hear the music and see all the beautiful lights, but far enough away that we can talk without yelling. After handing me my food and drink, Tristan gets comfortable next to me.
“My name is Tristan Scott. My bio
logical father abused my mom and left us. He was killed in a gambling incident. I have two sisters: Emma and Morgan. They’re twins and a pain in my ass. Morgan is going to fashion school here in LA. Emma is going to college back in Las Vegas for education. I’m twenty-seven years old and my birthday is January 28th. I have a degree in business management with a minor in fitness training.
“I thought I was in love with my best friend, Bella, but when she chose our friend Marco over me—after she got pregnant with his baby but didn’t tell him, and I agreed to raise the baby with her—I realized it wasn’t meant to be. I had a one night stand with my ex-girlfriend, Gina, but Mason calls her shewhoshallnotbenamed because he’s a closet diehard Harry Potter fan, and because he hates Gina for walking out of the hospital and leaving Lexi—for choosing a life of drugs over her daughter. But I don’t hate her.”
He shakes his head, pausing for a second, and trying to come up with the right words. “I pity her. Because even a single day without Lexi in my life would be a cold, lonely day, so I can’t even imagine how she feels going day after day without her. But then again, maybe she doesn’t know what she’s missing because she never got to experience the sunshine and brightness that is Lexi.”
Tristan smiles, probably thinking of one of the many memories with his daughter.
“My dad, the one who raised me, Kaden, is wealthy, like really wealthy. He created a trust fund for me and my sisters, which is how I went to college with no debt and then purchased the gym. I’m really lucky. Not because of his money, but because he thinks of me as his own and loves me like I’m really his son.”
He takes a bite of his food, but I don’t begin to eat yet. I’m too busy trying to wrap my head around all the information he’s feeding me. When he finishes chewing, he takes a sip of his drink, and then goes back to his story.
“I own the gym, as you know, and Mason is a fighter there along with several other UFC fighters. I own the condo we live in. Mason and I lived together for two years back in Las Vegas, and for the last six years in California. I lived in San Diego but transferred to LA to get a fresh start.
“My favorite color is blue, I love BBQ chicken, and Key Lime pie is my favorite dessert.” He smirks, but isn’t done. “I’ve been in one relationship my entire life. I want the family, the kids, the white picket fence, and that might make me sound like a pussy, but it’s the truth. I want what my parents have. But until I get that, I’m content with my life with my daughter and Mason. My biggest fear is that something will happen to my daughter and I won’t be able to fix it.”
A huge knot forms in my stomach at his final words. Those words right there are exactly why I have to keep him and his daughter at arm’s length. I can feel myself falling for the both of them. I can see myself falling in love, but is it fair to them if I can never give them all of me? If I’ll always feel it’s necessary to keep them at a safe distance to keep them safe from me?
“Why are you telling me all this?” I choke out. He sets his food and drink down and pulls me onto his lap, so I’m straddling him. His hands frame my face so I have no choice but to look him in the eyes. His dark blue to my muddy green. It’s fitting, really. His world is filled with brightness like the clear skies and deep oceans with only just a hint of darkness to remind us he isn’t perfect, while my world is dirty and messy. The dirtiness muddying up the cleanliness I crave.
“Because I know you have a past, but so do I. Nobody’s life is perfect. I know you have shit you’re hiding, shit you’re either afraid to share or are ashamed of, but I want you to trust me enough to open up to me. By nature, I’m a fixer. I always have been. But for the first time in my life, I don’t want to fix someone. I don’t want to fix you. I like you just the way you are, but I want to understand… No, I need to understand why you are the way you are. I need to know why the tears pop up out of nowhere. Why your smiles are always marred with a hint of sadness, and I’m hoping by me telling you about myself, you’ll do the same.”
The knot in my stomach has moved upward and is now lodged in my throat. Tristan might think his life isn’t perfect, but it’s pretty damn close compared to the fuckedupness that makes up my life.
He lets go of my face, and it’s only then I realize I’m crying. He wipes the tear from my cheek then moves his hands down my arms, landing on my hips. He squeezes my sides tightly. He doesn’t say anything, though. I know it’s because he’s waiting for me to speak. Waiting to see if I’ll reciprocate and let him into my life, shine light on the parts I’ve kept hidden. But I can’t do that. So instead I give him what I can.
“My name is Charlie Pratt. As I mentioned before, I was born and raised in Georgia. My parents loved me and gave me all they could, but we were poor. I moved to Texas and went to A&M. I majored in art and digital design, as you also know. My parents were killed in a fire before I graduated. I met a guy and we dated for a short time before getting married.” I stop and take a deep breath, shocked I just opened that can of worms. I need to backtrack…
But just as I’m about to steer the story in a different direction, Tristan looks me in the eye and says, “C’mon, Charlie, you can do it. I can feel the tension in your body, you’re at the hard part. Don’t stop, please. You’re right there. At the part that hurts deep down inside of you. The reason for your tears and sadness. Please, tell me.”
And I can no longer keep my dark truth from this man. “I killed my daughter.”
The way his hands deathly grip my hips is the only indication he heard my admission of guilt.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tristan
“I killed my daughter.”
I knew she was hiding something dark. I saw it in the way she spoke, the way her eyes filled with tears when Lexi would speak to her. I saw the way she would keep us at arm’s length. But I never imagined those would be the words that would come out of her mouth.
I realize my hands have tightened on her hips when she flinches. We’re both sitting here, her on my lap, not saying a word. It takes me a minute to wrap my head around her words.
I killed my daughter.
There has to be more to this. If she had killed her daughter she would be in jail, and I see the way she is with Lexi. There isn’t a mean bone in this woman’s body. She ran from a couple of guys fighting in the gym for crying out loud.
“Charlie, you’re going to have to explain, sweetheart,” I say softly. I don’t want her to clam up on me. She swallows thickly and tries to climb off my lap, but I’m not having it. I’m not letting her push me away again.
“I killed my daughter,” she repeats. “I was responsible for her and she died.”
I hold her tighter, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Talk to me, Charlie. Tell me what happened.”
“It was three days before Thanksgiving… last year.” I can see it in her eyes as she talks, she’s no longer with me. She’s stuck in the past with her daughter and the tragedy of what happened.
“I wasn’t watching Georgia and she ran outside. She was hit by a car. I don’t really remember it all.”
“How do you not remember it?” I ask carefully.
She takes a deep breath. “According to the doctor at the hospital, I had blacked out and hit my head on the coffee table. During that time, my daughter ran outside and was hit by a car.”
Holy shit! I can’t imagine waking up and finding out my daughter was dead. She keeps talking, so I don’t say anything.
“Tristan, I can’t remember anything from around that time. I’ve tried to remember so many times, but I can’t. It doesn’t matter, though. My beautiful, innocent, precious Georgia Rae was killed that day while in my care. She ran outside and a car hit her. I was responsible for her and she’s dead because of me.”
Jesus, the guilt that must be consuming her, I don’t even know where to start, what to say. I’ve only known this woman for a short time, but I can’t see her doing anything that would intentionally harm someone else, especially someone she loves.
“I won’t blame you for walking away, Tristan. For not wanting me around Lexi and you.” Her eyes fall, no longer looking at me.
“Were you charged with something?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I was told it was ruled an accident. There were no drugs or alcohol in my system. I have never blacked out or fainted from what I can remember, so I don’t get it. The doctor didn’t have any answers. There was a funeral for her, but I was so grief-stricken I didn’t attend. Two months later I moved here needing to get away from everything that reminded me of what I did, and I’ve been living here for the last nine months.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer to me. “Hey, look at me.” She looks up and I spot the unshed tears about to spill over her lids. “You didn’t do anything wrong. What happened to your daughter is a fucking tragedy. But you didn’t set out to have her killed. You weren’t neglecting her, and you didn’t throw her into the road. I trust you one hundred percent with Lexi. Are you seeing a therapist? Someone you can talk to about all this guilt you feel?”
She nods. “Yes, I’ve been seeing a therapist since shortly after I moved here. It started off as several times a week, but now I see her every Monday.”
“And what about Georgia’s father?” I ask, and Charlie stills.
“I left him two months after she died, and I haven’t seen him since.”
I know there’s more to this story. She admitted to being in an abusive relationship before. But I don’t push her. Having to tell the story of her daughter dying is enough. I don’t want to tip her over the edge. She’s here in California and no longer with the guy, and that’s all that matters. When she’s ready, she’ll give me more.
“Thank you for sharing your past with me.” I give her a kiss on her nose then one on each of her now tear-stained cheeks. “I am so sorry for your loss. Can you tell me about her? I don’t want this conversation to end like this,” I admit. “She was a part of you and I want to know about her.”
