Page 34 of Follow the Rhythm (Fairview City Omegaverse #2)

W e arrived at Charlie’s family home just after midnight.

The train ride wasn’t exactly awkward, just quiet, and I was quite proud that I’d limited myself to a single saintly whiskey.

We caught a cab from the station and made our way up the long, winding driveway to the Bennett estate.

It was too dark to see very much, but I got the impression of a sprawling farmhouse.

An older woman, an Omega with a scent like toasted almonds, answered the door in a dressing gown.

Her dark hair had touches of gray at the temples.

Even if I didn’t recognize her as Adeline Bennett, erstwhile keyboardist for Porchlight Choir, I’d have known her as Charlie’s mother anywhere; she had the same slightly protruding ears and overwhelming sense of friendliness.

“It’s so good to see you, honey,” she said, giving Charlie a tight hug. She spotted me and did a double take. “Oh, I didn’t know you were bringing… someone.”

“Sorry, it was sort of a last-minute decision. This is Ellis,” Charlie said with an awkward “now presenting” gesture.

I stepped forward to shake her hand. I could still have good manners, even when I felt entirely out of place. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Right. Ellis. It’s nice to meet you, too,” she replied, doing some fast calculations and coming to the completely wrong conclusion based on her warm smile.

She led us through the small entryway and upstairs, yawning, til we reached a door on the first floor. “You two should be comfortable in here.”

“Oh. I… um…” Charlie was blushing bright red. He met my eyes, then glanced back at his mother.

I took pity on all of us. It was late, and I felt like I was going to collapse at any moment. “This is wonderful. We’ll see you in the morning, Mrs. Bennett.”

I pulled Charlie into the room behind me.

It was cozy. The bed took up most of the space, and art in a wild jumble of styles covered every inch of wall.

It should have been chaotic, but felt homey instead.

Instead of an overhead light, two bedside lamps bathed the room in a warm glow.

I dropped my bag to the rug with a grateful sigh.

“Sorry. She obviously thinks we’re…” Charlie trailed off, then seemed to give up. “We can figure it out tomorrow.”

“Nothing to worry about. I’ll keep my hands to myself,” I said, aiming for charming, but it landed flat.

The whole day felt like a fever dream. I stripped off my travel-worn clothes with the ease of someone who disrobes regularly in dressing rooms and fell into the crisp, cool sheets while Charlie puttered around the room.

I tried not to watch him get ready for bed, but I couldn’t help myself.

It felt terribly domestic. He emerged from the small ensuite bathroom in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, the low light picking out every chiseled muscle in his chest and abs, which were lightly dusted with dark hair.

I swallowed. How had I not known my sweet Charlie was absolutely shredded?

Not mine , I reminded myself. I was there because he pitied me, and I needed to remember that.

We switched off the lamps, and the room plunged into darkness.

I had grown more accustomed to Charlie’s scent on the train ride, sitting quietly shoulder to shoulder, but it was different lying in the dark next to him. The cherry notes were achingly sweet, but tempered with just enough tartness and warm vanilla that it wasn’t cloying.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few beats of silence.

“The jury’s still out.”

“Sorry again about the sleeping arrangements. I wasn’t trying to-”

I breathed a little laugh, cutting him off. “Please, darling, it’s hardly a misfortune to sleep next to you. But as I said, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Charlie was quiet. “I am glad you came with me.”

I expected to lie awake for hours. I hadn’t slept well, especially not sober, in months. But Charlie’s scent was sweet and comforting, and I could feel his warm bulk next to me. As soon as my eyelids slid shut, I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I woke up alone. I sat up too quickly, disoriented, and was rewarded with a head rush.

The room was still dark, thanks to the thick curtains over the single window.

I fumbled for my phone and cursed. It was 10 a.m., and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept that long without chemical help.

A confused dream lingered at the edge of my mind. Images of Jess and Charlie tumbled together in a tangle of limbs, a sense of scents mingling, Charlie’s sweet taste on my lips.

That ship has sailed , I chided myself. He couldn’t have made it clearer that we were friends now, nothing more. And I was sure Jess would rather have dental surgery sans anesthetic than be in my presence.

The thought of going downstairs to face Charlie and his rock royalty family scared the hell out of me, so I took a long shower instead. But when I emerged in a cloud of steam, he was waiting for me.

“Good morning.” He was wearing his usual friendly smile and pointedly not looking at my bare chest. He was half-leaning against the bed, his arms crossed, and a lock of thick brown hair had tumbled onto his forehead. “I came to make sure you weren’t in some kind of coma.”

“I can’t believe I slept so long.” I stood awkwardly with a towel around my waist, my hair dripping water onto the hardwood floor.

We lapsed back into the silence that had plagued us since I had spilled my guts. I didn’t know who to be for him anymore, which version of Ellis he wanted. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

“You okay?” he asked with a flicker of concern in his eyes.

I tried to think of a pithy response and failed. Instead, I went with the truth. “I’m at a bit of a loss. We went from yelling at each other yesterday, to me baring my soul, to… whatever is happening now. And to be honest, I keep expecting you to change your mind and kick me out into the woods.”

Charlie laughed, the sound bright in the dark room. “No one’s going to kick you out. Just hang out with me for a couple of days, take it easy,” he said, shrugging, as if it were that simple. “Want some breakfast?”

The house was strange but charming. Along, low turquoise couch and two massive armchairs upholstered in soft, white fur dominated the main room, a huge, airy space that included a living room and dining space.

There was more eclectic art on every available inch of wall space.

A chandelier of delicate crystal dangled over the dining table.

The house sat at the top of a small rise, and the floor-to-ceiling windows on the back wall had a spectacular view of the swimming pool on the back deck, as well as the forest behind it.

Everywhere I looked was? the deep, vibrant green of summer, gilded with buttery sunshine.

I felt like a blot on the horizon, or maybe a malignant tumor.

I managed a cup of coffee and a couple of slices of toast despite the polite interrogation Charlie’s mum was conducting from across the table.

“You look very familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked after the usual pleasantries about how I slept.

“Well, I am a bit famous,” I said with a wry smile. “Not as famous as you, of course, but I’m part of the band Charlie was tour managing.”

“Oh my gosh, of course! You’re that Ellis. I was so sorry when Charlie told us about the tour ending early. Dean’s had to have a few vocal cord surgeries over the years; he can tell you all about it.” She gave me a reassuring smile.

Right. The vocal cord surgery. Suddenly, the lie made me feel dirty. It had been Karen’s idea, a stopgap measure for me to ‘get my shit together,’ but I hadn’t protested. “I wouldn’t want to bother him,” I said noncommittally.

“It wouldn’t be a bother. He loves telling his war stories, and you’ll be a fresh audience.

He should be out soon; he’s with his occupational therapist right now.

” Her smile faded. “And of course, I’m so sorry for your loss.

Losing a band member is like losing a family member.

I can’t imagine how that must have felt. Still feels.”

Grief choked me, sudden and jarring as a car accident. I managed a nod, but then Charlie was next to me, his hand on my shoulder, and I could take another breath. “It’s hard,” I said as evenly as I could. It wasn’t her fault she’d touched an open wound.

“I’m glad you have someone to lean on.” A soft smile crept back to her lips. “Charlie certainly has broad shoulders. And I can’t remember him ever bringing someone home, so you must be very special.”

“Please, Mom, I told you we’re just friends.” Charlie sounded pained, and I could imagine him as a teenager, begging his poor mother to stay out of his business.

Adeline scoffed good-naturedly. “Come on, honey, we’re all adults here, and you know I don’t judge! Diana can give me all the grandchildren; I just want you to be happy.”

Charlie made a faint sound of distress in his throat, and a smile bloomed, unbidden, on my face.

The arrival of a tall, broad man who looked like hip Father Christmas, with his white beard and thick, square-framed glasses, saved us from any further discussion of potential grandchildren.

“Charlie!” he bellowed, pulling him into what looked like a crushing hug. “I’m so glad you could come for a visit. We’ve been missing you!”

“Hey Kristopher. It’s great to see you, too.” Charlie sounded slightly squashed but genuinely happy.

“And you must be the mysterious Ellis,” he said, turning his attention to me. He had a faint accent of some kind, maybe Dutch. I stood to shake his hand. It felt more like a bear’s paw. “Finally turning Charlie here into an honest man?”

“Oh dear god, you guys are killing me,” Charlie groaned, his cheeks blazing.

“I’m doing my best,” I said conspiratorially to Kristopher, unable to help myself. He and Adeline beamed at each other, then back at me.