Page 16 of Pages of My Heart

Charlie

They’ve been together almost six months when Charlie caves to Thomas’s wish.

Up until now, they’ve kept their relationship secret, and separate, from every other part of their lives.

When they can, they meet up at the club, where they’re free to act as they please—dance together, kiss in plain view, and yes, enjoy sexual interludes in the restroom.

While there’s always the risk of the club getting raided, or someone spotting one of them coming or going, it’s still the safest place for them to be together.

That is, except for the time he took to fist fighting some punk who was making unwanted advances on Tommy.

Consumed by a jealous rage, Charlie had lashed out with violence, much like his father does.

But in this case it had seemed worth getting thrown out for the night—Thomas taking him urgently and passionately afterwards in a darkened ally, their blood still running hot.

It’s the only time they’ve dared penetration in a public place.

Sex is still dangerous and tricky for them, having to steal moments down at the docks or in seedy parks under the cloak of night.

They keep things simple and quick by limiting themselves to using their hands or mouths.

Thomas’s family still leaves town to visit their grandparents once every few months, but there is no plausible way for Thomas to excuse himself every time, so they’ve only had one other weekend together at the house since that first. Charlie had been walking a little funny after that second weekend, but his smile had lasted longer than the ache in his ass.

But now Thomas wants more for them, pushing Charlie to take more chances and be more reckless.

Charlie admires how comfortable Thomas has become in his sexuality, how easy it seems for him to accept what he is and who he loves, but sometimes he fears Thomas will shout that love from the top of the Trade Building, as if it’s not a crime that would get them both locked up.

Charlie, on the other hand, is still struggling, still looking over his shoulder, waiting for his father to discover the depths of his deviant ways.

He does everything he can to avoid his old man, planning his visits home carefully so he can enjoy the scarce time he has with his mother when Robert is away.

Since packing up his few meager possession and moving out he’s drifted apart from his brother, Donnie, but Evie has started coming round to see him at the garage—although he suspects her motivation lies at least partly elsewhere, with a young mechanic named Richard.

After many arguments and also a fair amount of sweet-talking on Tommy’s part, Charlie has finally agreed to meet the O’Reillys and, in return, will bring Thomas home to meet his ma and sister.

The hope is that after this, their investment in a series of lies will allow them to be in each other’s lives more openly.

So long as no one sees through the charade, perhaps this will be a little better, allowing them to live a little freer.

They have spent weeks concocting the story of how they met and became friends, because what logic is there in a college man crossing paths with a garage mechanic?

When Charlie strolls up the road, it doesn’t surprise him to see Thomas pacing up and down the front path of the O’Reilly house like he’s got ants in his pants.

Thomas spots him right as he reaches the front gate, eyes lighting up with excitement as he all but bounces toward him.

Damn, Charlie loves this ginger fool so much.

“I know I ain’t running late, Red, so where’s the fire?”

Charlie’s insides soften at the smile that spreads across his lover’s face, and he wishes for nothing more than to be able to walk straight into an embrace and be kissed right here on the front lawn.

Squashing down resentment is second nature now, but it chips away at his heart every time he’s forced to hide how much he cares for this man, and he knows it’s the same for Tommy.

Instead of doing what he’d like, he extends his hand, and they shake in formal greeting.

“No fire, Charlie. Just glad you’re finally here,” Thomas says, grazing the back of Charlie’s hand with a subtle stroke of his thumb. “My dad’s off on a bender again, and Eddie’s at work, so you’ll only meet three O’Reillys today. You ready?”

Charlie shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Then he cautions, “Don’t slip up.”

“I won’t.” Thomas leans in and whispers, “But I wish I could kiss you. For luck.”

Charlie blushes and follows Thomas up the path, willing his skin to cool before he meets the siblings.

Once inside, he reminds himself that he’s got to pretend he’s never set foot in this house before.

They move through to the kitchen, where an elegant brunette is drying dishes at the sink.

Of course, Charlie knows this is Bridget, having seen her photograph on the mantel over the fireplace.

“Hey Bridge, I’d like you to meet Charlie.”

She turns to them with a smile, placing her hands on her hips.

She is tall for a woman, standing eye level with Charlie, and she has the type of figure that men seem to desire—slim, yet curvaceous.

Charlie knows she’s only twenty-five, some seven years older than Thomas, but she has a commanding presence that makes her seem older, and it’s immediately clear she doesn’t suffer fools lightly.

Thomas turns back to Charlie, motioning to his sister. “Charlie, this is my oldest sister, Bridget.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Barclay,” he says, removing his cap and tipping his head in respect.

“Oh, none of that. Call me Bridget. Anyway, I still think of myself as an O’Reilly, don’t I, sweet face?” Bridget ruffles Thomas’s hair.

“Bridge!” Thomas protests, ducking out from under her hand. “I’m too old for childish nicknames.”

Bridget frowns. “You’ll never be too old. You’ll always be my sweet face.” She kisses Thomas on his cheek and Charlie laughs. He cannot wait to tease Thomas about this later—although he’s been known to call the redhead sweet from time to time, too.

“Charlie,” Bridget addresses him again, “I was about to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

Charlie glances at Thomas, who smiles and nods. “Uh, yeah, that would be great. Just black for me.”

“Tom, you having one?” Bridget says. “I made cake, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll have a cup. And cake sounds great.”

Bridget is already putting the percolator on the stove when she shoos them out of the kitchen. “You two make yourselves comfortable in the sitting room. Oh, and Thomas, call upstairs and tell Michael and Maggie to come down and join us.”

Thomas bounds up the stairs two at a time, leaving Charlie to fidget anxiously in one of the plush armchairs until he reappears a few minutes later with Michael and Maggie in tow.

Bridget sweeps into the room then, too, bringing the drinks and cake on a tray and setting everything down on the coffee table.

Thomas introduces Charlie to Michael first. He looks like a male version of Bridget, handsome and confident, although he doesn’t have her height.

But as soon as he opens his mouth, Charlie takes an instant disliking to him—which is troubling, seeing as Thomas always speaks so highly of his brother.

There is a cockiness about him—like he has something to prove—that sets Charlie’s teeth on edge, and he feels oddly scrutinized by the other man’s lazy, half-lidded gaze.

Maggie, on the other hand, strikes Charlie as a typical fourteen-year-old girl, bubbling with enthusiasm but trying to act grown up.

She has red hair, like Thomas, and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks, too.

But most of all, she seems kind, like Thomas.

On first impressions, Charlie likes her the most out of the three siblings.

After a few sips of coffee, Michael is the first to ask a question. “So Charlie, Tom tells me you two met playing billiards. Never thought I’d hear of my brother stepping foot in a dingy pool hall. How’d that happen?”

Charlie places his cup down before giving his practiced answer.

“You can blame my cousin—Joe was the one to bring Thomas down and teach him how to play, and we just got to talkin’.

I work as a mechanic, and turns out Tommy has an interest in fine automobiles when you can get him chattin’ about something besides books for five damn minutes,” he ribs.

Maggie giggles at that, and Bridget smiles knowingly.

“He enjoys dropping in at the garage now and then when we’ve got a prestige model in for repair. ”

Thomas jumps in, “You remember, don’t you, Michael? I told you about Joseph. He was studying at Wilson too and only recently graduated. He wasn’t a very good teacher, anyway—it was lucky Charlie took over. Now I can actually hold my own against the other guys down at the hall.”

Michael just hums in acknowledgment, lazy eyes still fixed on Charlie.

“So Charlie, how long have you worked as a mechanic?” Bridget asks, cutting the icebox cake she’s prepared into slices.

“Uh, I’ve been at Jimmy’s since I was fourteen. You know, with the crash and all, I had to take the job when it came up. But it’s a good place, and I enjoy working on the cars, fixing ’em up. Would maybe like to have my own garage one day.”

“That’s an honest day’s work,” Bridget says, passing him a generous piece of cake.

“You should be proud of helping to support your family all these years. I’m glad Tom has a friend that knows the value of hard work instead of only mixing with those uppity folks at the college.

We grew up with so little, and sometimes I think my siblings don’t remember how hard it was. ”