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“Chuck Norris doesn’t breathe. He holds air hostage.”
My steps slow. Has he gone mad? Maybe I’ve broken him.
“Chuck Norris once shot an enemy plane down with his finger by yelling ‘Bang!’”
This does not compute. Is he serious?
“The flu gets a Chuck Norris shot every year.” He barely takes a breath. “When Chuck Norris enters a room, he doesn’t turn the lights on, he turns the dark off.”
A chuckle escapes, and I stop my escape. For a moment, I stare down the hall to the glass doors. My escape. But maybe they’re not that at all.
I turn to face Cade. “You’re insane, you know that? What are you doing? What is this?”
“I learned a bunch of jokes to make you laugh.”
His words make my stomach clench in a way that feels dangerous. Like my body is overpowering my brain. Every argument that pops in my head gets overturned one by one with the beat of my heart.
“Chuck Norris once had a staring contest with the sun, and he won.”
Cade steps forward, that charming smile on his face, and my chest squeezes in response.
“Chuck Norris doesn’t need to wear a watch. He simply decides what time it is.”
I’m grinning now as he saunters up to me. I don’t know what Cade Farmer might have in store for me, but I’m beginning to think the ride might be worth it. “Why Chuck Norris?”
“He’s an icon.” He grips my chin. “And so are you.” He holds it so I can’t peer away, as if he knew that would be my first reaction. No one has ever known me quite this well. I can’t remember the last person I told about my mom. Hell, I can’t remember the last time Italkedabout my mom. “Go to the café with me. I’ll buy you a drink, maybe a bakery item. Something that’s definitely sweeter than you.”
I laugh, and his grip on me softens. He traces my chin to my cheekbones with his fingers, staring at me in wonder. “This time, you don’t revert back to old Charley. Understand?”
The look he gives me, it makes me want to tell him everything. To break down like I’ve never done before and tell him what I came home to early Sunday morning. How my dad still isn’t speaking to me. How every day I have to watch him slowly kill himself.
The dam I erected is getting closer to bursting. What a relief it would be to crumble to the ground and let Cade Farmer pick me up.
“I…”
One corner of his mouth tugs up higher than the other in what can only be described as adorable. I can’t burden Cade with my shit. Not now. Possibly not ever. He’s too happy.
“I’ll go to the café with you.”
Cade loops my arm through his without hesitation, closing my fist around his forearm. Then, he swings my bag to his own shoulder.
It’s amazing how many people see me when I’m walking with Cade. They call out to him, and he has a mini conversation with every single person. For some of them, their stares linger on me until they pass or get distracted by their phones. It makes my shoes heavy, but with Cade leading me, it doesn’t feel like an insurmountable task to have others staring.
“Cade. Charley.”
I start at my name and then peer up to find a hulking figure passing by. “What’s up, West?” Cade says.
We pass, and I glance over my shoulder. “Football player?”
“Wow, you literally do live in your own world, don’t you?”
I shrug. “He knew my name.”
“You should never be surprised about that.” He takes my chin, making me look at him again. “Now, stop staring at Big Man because you’re making me jealous.”
My lids flutter down. “You’re crazy.”
We get closer to the café, and I spot a line nearly to the exit door. My palms grow clammy, and I try to slip my grip away from Cade’s so he doesn’t feel them, but he holds me in place.