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“Text me next time you’re nature-spotting. I’ll be sure to put on a better show.” “I changed my mind—you’re more like an oversized pest than a peacock.” He snorts, then holds out a spare life jacket. “Get on. Unless you’d rather keep riding that…thing.” “This unicorn is very comfortable.” He begins undoing his life jacket. “Is it?” “What are you doing?” “I’m joining you. Looks like there’s room for two.” “There absolutely isn’t.” “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Your eyelashes,” I say, deciding to tell him the truth. It’s not like his head can grow any larger. “The way the water clings to them is really pretty in this light.” Charlie faces me more fully, the cocksure expression evaporating. He frowns, searching my eyes. A thrill courses through me. I feel it in my ears, my fingers, my toes. It’s spiked with fear, like I’ve accepted a dare. “You’re different,” Charlie says. I will my voice to stay steady. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” “It’s not an insult. Just a fact. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”
“I’m only curious.” “Well, don’t be.” Any trace of humor fades. “I’m sorry. I’m only teasing.” “Okay.” “My family was big into teasing,” he says. “It’s basically the Florek love language.” I mellow. “I don’t speak Florek, so you’ll need to translate.”
“The one thing you really need to know is that we only make fun of people we like.”
“What happens when you fall in love? Do you stage a roast? Gift wrap a rubber chicken?” He chuckles. “There’s that Alice Everly ...
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Before we set off again, I point to the cliff across from the island. “I’m going to jump from that.” “I know.” “How do—” I cut myself off. The list. Number one. “Never mind.” Charlie studies me. “Want to do it now? I’ll go with you.”
My stomach knots. “Are you scared of heights?” An earnest question. “No.” We look at the rock face. “So you’re afraid of…?” “Dying.” “I won’t let you die. Or get hurt.” I stare into his eyes and somehow know he means it. “Whenever you’re ready, let me know. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” “Good,” I say, heart pounding. “Let’s do it now.”
“I’m turning thirty-three tomorrow. You’d think I’d be a little braver.” “I think the older we get, the scarier shit becomes.” It’s kind of profound. I narrow my eyes. “How old are you?” “Thirty-five.” Charlie’s voice is so grim I laugh, but it dies in my throat at his expression. “Is it really so bad?” “Nah.”
“I prefer controlled.” “Controlled isn’t you,” he says. “You’re unpredictable.” “I’m very predictable.” “I don’t think so,” Charlie says. “I think you’re a wild card.”
“Told you,” he says. “Wild card.” “You don’t know me very well.” “Not yet.”
I stare at that orb of white as the time changes from 11:59 p.m. to midnight. Seconds later, my phone glows with a message. Charlie: Happy birthday.
“I thought your brother and sister were on cake duty.” He looks up and down the aisle. “Or are they here, too?” “No. They had to cancel. I’m not going to do the whole party thing.” “Are you uninviting me?” “There’s nothing to invite you to.” He eyes the boxes of cake mix. “It would just be the three of us,” I say. “Three’s plenty. You should see what I can do with just two people.” He lifts his eyebrows, and I struggle to keep a straight face. “I’ll leave you and Nan to it, then.” “I should be so lucky.” Charlie takes the boxes from my hands and sets them back on the shelf. “Hey,” I protest.
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“Not you.” “Yes, me.” “You’re not serious.” I look him over. “You can’t bake.” “Oh, I can bake.” Charlie takes a step closer. He bends down to my eye level and lowers his voice. “I can bake all night.”
His eyes shine. “I’m going to bake you a cake so good you’ll be ruined for all other cakes.” “Prove.” I prod a finger into his chest, and sweet hell, it’s like poking a steel door. “It.” “Done. I’ll see you tonight.” He turns and begins walking down the aisle.
“Why?” I ask. “Because I love defying expectations, and you, Alice Everly, seem to have a lot of them.”
I’ve decided to defy expectations, too, including my own.
“What?” “Nothing. I just figured you were more of a city girl. City person,” he amends when I arch a brow. “Says the guy driving the Porsche.” He shrugs. “I like nice things.”
Charlie doesn’t reply, but when I glance at him, I catch an expression on his face that makes me pause, like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, gesturing to the bags he’s holding. He’s brought wine and a gift. “My mom would have eviscerated me if I’d shown up to someone’s house empty-handed.” Once we’re inside, he gives my grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “Nice to see you, Nan.” He passes her a paper bag. “This one’s for you.” “What is that?” Charlie and Nan look over to me. “I asked Charlie to pick me up a bottle of scotch since you wouldn’t.” Nan pats him on the hand. “You’re a good man. How much do I owe you?” “Don’t worry about it.” “Fiddlesticks.”
“Can you be serious for one second? What’s with the scotch?” “Your grandmother called and asked if I could bring her a bottle. She told me her doctor said it’s okay if she has a drink. She also mentioned that you’re a little overprotective.” “I’m just trying to take care of her.” “I get that, but she’s eighty, Alice. She’s earned the right to make her own choices about her health.”
He leans down to meet my eyes. “If she gets trashed, I’ll carry her to bed. There’ll be no drunken falls tonight.” I huff out a short laugh. “I’m a lightweight. I make no promises.” “Then I’ll carry you to bed, too.”
see I’m underdressed,” he says. “Huh?” He taps the tiara on the top of my head. I’d forgotten it was there. “Don’t worry,” I say, collecting myself. “I have one for you, too.” “Do I get sparkles?” “Do you want sparkles?” “I want sparkles.”
“You’ve turned a very red shade of red,” Charlie says. “It’s cute.” “Shut up.” “Don’t worry,” he adds. “It’s a good one.” “You’ve read it?” “I flipped through it in the drugstore.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?” “I do.”
“Something wrong?” I meet his gaze then. “I’m not sure it’ll suit you.” Flecks of gilt in pools of green shimmer back at me. “Everything suits me. Quit stalling, Alice.”
“How do I look?” I lean back to inspect my handiwork. Of course he can pull off glitter. “Pretty ridiculous.” He smiles. “I doubt that.”
I leave Nan and Charlie to make the salad, and when I return to the living room, he’s sitting on a dining chair in front of her, painting her nails with the purple polish. He’s doing a terrible job, the tiny bottle cap ill fitted to his hands. I sneak past to get my camera. I take one shot of Charlie concentrating on Nan’s manicure, her fingers in his, and another when they both look up at me.
He returns holding the cake, with a single candle in the center. I raise my camera, committing Charlie in a tiara and glitter, singing “Happy Birthday,” to film.
“Excellent,” Nan agrees. “I’d love the recipe.” Charlie beams at my grandmother. “My mom would have been thrilled to hear that.” The twinge in my chest returns, only stronger now. “I think she would have been thrilled you made it,” Nan says. I’m still gushing about the cake when a horn interrupts me. Aaaah-whoooo-gaaaaah! “Oh shit.” Charlie looks at me, wild-eyed. “They’re here.”
“My brother and his wife.” “How lovely,” Nan says. Judging from the look on Charlie’s face, he doesn’t agree. “What are they doing here?” “Wreaking havoc. I’ll go get rid of them.”
“I have nothing to do with this,” replies a deep voice almost identical to Charlie’s. “It’s all Percy. Though I don’t hate the opportunity to make you sweat.” “I’m not sweating.” “No, you’re sparkling,” a woman says. I step onto the dock, and all three of them look at me. I raise my hand. “Hey.” “You must be Alice,” the woman says. It’s too dim to see her very well, but I can tell she’s a big-eyed brunette. She’s also pregnant. “That’s me.” I stand next to Charlie at the edge of the dock. “Sorry,” I tell him. “Nan sent me on a reconnaissance mission.”
“We’re not spying,” the woman says to me. “It’s just that Charlie has been refusing to give up any details about the mystery girl across the bay, so I thought we’d come say hello ourselves and drag you out for a bit. Happy birthday, by the way. How was the cake? Charlie refused to give me, his pregnant sister-in-law, a taste.” I glance at Charlie. “I know. She talks a lot,” he says. “You forgot the part where you introduce yourself, Pers.” She waves. “Sorry. I’m Persephone, but please call me Percy, and this is Sam.”
“It surprises me, though.” “Why?” “Because I don’t remember you.” I look up at the sky, where the stars are blinking to life. “I guess I’m not very memorable.” “Well, that’s bullshit,” Charlie says, and I turn back to him.
“I have three siblings,” I explain. “Heather is two years older. Luca and Lavinia are twenty-four.” I can’t remember when or why we came up with the animal thing, but it’s fundamental to being an Everly child. “Heather is the lion, Lavinia is the flamingo, and Luca is the monkey.” “And you’re the turtle.”
“You’re not quiet around me,” he says slowly, a minute later, as if he’s been thinking it over. “No.” I turn to him. There’s something about Charlie that calms the part of my brain that constantly worries about saying the wrong thing. “But I would have been shy…back then, I mean.”
“Did you have a nickname when you were younger?” “Yeah,” he says quietly. “My actual name is Charles. But my dad always called me Charlie.” “What were you like?” I ask. Charlie shifts, propping himself on one elbow, facing me. “Terrible.” I laugh. “So basically the same?” “See, that’s why I like you.” “Because I make fun of you?” “Because you’re honest. And, for the record, I think you’re very bright.” “It’s the glitter,” I tell him. Charlie’s gaze roams my face slowly. “It’s definitely the glitter.”
“The boys are out bashing two-by-fours as if they know what they’re doing.”
“How do you put up with him?” Sam asks. “I don’t. I just haven’t been able to get rid of him yet.”
“This is embarrassing,” he says after a moment, head still dropped. “This is nothing. You read my bucket list. You’ve got to do a lot worse than mild heatstroke before you reach that level of mortification.”
“And you love a list,” Charlie says, voice gentle. “Precisely.”
I crinkle my nose. “It’s silly, right?” He shakes his head. “I think I get it. If I could go back, knowing what I know now, I probably would.” “Really?” “Sure. There are things I’d like to do differently. That feeling of being invincible. All of life stretching before you. Not to mention no sixty-hour workweeks.” “No bills. Or real responsibilities. No exes with fiancées named Astilbe.” Charlie smiles. “Specific.” “No compromising my integrity.” “No serious consequences,” Charlie says. “Exactly.”
“Come on, Alice. I’m not going to laugh at you,” he says, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “You might.” “Okay, I might. But I won’t think less of you.”
He glances up. “ ‘Low-key drugs, question mark, question mark, question mark’?”
“You lost your father when you were fourteen. I can’t imagine how hard that was.” Charlie pins me with the full force of his stare. “Don’t go soft on me now, Alice.” So I stare back. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. I’m an excellent listener and a vault when it comes to secrets.” “I’m sure you are.”
“What teenager didn’t piss off their parents?” “I bet Alice Everly didn’t.”
“We should do it together,” I find myself saying. He looks taken aback. “Kiss?” “The list.” I laugh. “You should have a seventeen-year-old summer with me.” Charlie’s eyes brighten. “Yeah?” He reads my list over again, lips moving silently. Then he digs his phone out of his pocket and snaps a photo. “No problem,” he announces. “No problem?” “Nope,” he says. “You’ve already done a bunch of it. You jumped off the rock, threw yourself a birthday party.” He arches an eyebrow. “And that is a very skimpy bathing suit. We can do this.” “We?” I say, smiling. His eyes spark. They’re aurora borealis
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“There’s no such thing as perfect.” “In theory.” “And if there were, it would be boring.” He flicks his hand in the water, sending a gentle arc of water over my toes. “And you, Alice Everly, are anything but boring.”
“But the thing about love languages,” Charlie says, “is it’s not just about how we express love, but how we receive love. You need someone to do something for you that makes you feel loved. Someone to help you.” I shake my head. “I hate asking for help.” “That’s because deep down, you want someone to see what you need before you have to ask.” “You’re full of surprises, Charlie Florek.”
Charlie stares at me, no hint of the joker anymore. I like this about him—he has an instinct for when it’s okay to play and when it’s better to listen. He sees what people need the way I do.
“Do all your friends undergo such thorough scrutiny?” Charlie says, locking his eyes onto mine. “Or am I special?”
