12
Larkin
I take a big breath before I knock on Charlie’s door a few days later. I’m nervous, my palms sweating. I discreetly wipe them on my jeans.
I knew I had to give Charlie a few days to lie low after what happened between us at the bar. He was a maelstrom of emotions that night, and tipsy to boot.
But now that I’ve spent three days listening to the faint sounds of life through the wall, I had to come over here. I know I should leave him alone. I know it.
And honestly, if it were any other guy, I would be exasperated by now. But Charlie is the lion with a thorn in his paw, and I’m the mouse who only wants to help.
So here I am. Some might say I’m a glutton for punishment, and they would not be wrong.
I knock on the door, my heart beating a frenzied tattoo. I hear Charlie’s foot
