‘But as a rule you don’t like noisy rock-n-roll gigs?’
‘I don’t like crowds, and I don’t like people.’
‘Seriously? Why not?’
‘They tend to let you down.’
Glancing over at Andy, Charlotte said, ‘People always let you down. You just forgive them and move on.’
‘Mmm.’
‘What about Cassette? Hasn’t she ever let you down? I find it hard to believe otherwise.’
‘I know what to expect with Cassie.’
‘You’re probably the only one who does then.’
Craig laughed.
Charlotte continued. ‘Has she ever said anything to you about Emily? I suppose you wouldn’t tell me if she had. She’s had this really weird thing about Emily for as long as we’ve known her. Whenever we’re at an event and Cassette decides to perform, she always seems to try and drag Emily into her act.
‘I expect that’s embarrassing for Emily.’
‘You said it. Is that why I’ve never seen you out with Cassette before? Do you know to steer clear?’
‘Not really. I do go places with her. Work functions and the like. Places she’s not likely to perform.’
‘It’s terrible, isn’t it?’
Craig laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s bad. But she’s not all bad. You probably find that hard to believe.’
‘I imagine she’s a high maintenance friend. Perhaps that’s what puts you off people. We’re not all like that.’
Craig laughed again. ‘You don’t think you’re high maintenance?’
Charlotte grinned. ‘I’m not usually. I’m very accommodating.'
Easing in to him, she continued her questioning. ‘So what’s the story with your dad and Keith Morgan? I’ve told you all about my sordid past. It’s your turn to spill, although your tale is probably not as sordid.’
Stiffening, and then hoping she hadn’t noticed, Craig said, ‘It’s hardly your sordid past Charlotte. You were just a kid.’
‘Are you avoiding answering me?’
Craig exhaled a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He owed her something. He understood what it took to share your secrets.
‘My dad and Keith were high school mates. According to my nana, they were the kind of boys who would have dropped out of school so they could get on with making money, but they stayed through to their senior year because their parents bribed them to. As soon as they did finish, those same parents threw money at them to give them a leg up. Somehow they managed to learn a thing or two about making things happen, and before they knew it, they had a property portfolio and a fledgling company.'
‘What about your mum? What did she do?’
‘Mum was a marketing graduate when she met Dad. She was doing an internship at a small company he and Keith contracted to promote one of their earlier developments. By the time he met her, the company was already a success, but when Mum took over the marketing and networking, it just kept growing. Plus it was the 80s. The decade of the property developer – no planning restrictions and a supportive government. Dad and Keith were like pigs in mud.'
‘What happened to your parents?’
He paused. It wasn’t a question someone asked unless they knew there was a story. As far as he could recall, he’d given her no indication he was an orphan. She must have uncovered that piece of information herself.
The story of his parent’s death was not one he shared.
‘They had a car accident coming home from a function one night. It was some rural retreat thing. They ran off the road and into a tree. My dad was driving drunk.’
‘I’m sorry, Craig,’ she said and slipped her arms around his torso, snuggling closer in to him and driving him to distraction. He lifted a tendril of her hair and twirled it around his fingers. Closing his eyes momentarily, he rested his head on the back of the couch.
It was late, well early actually, and he was tired. While he hadn’t matched Emily’s pace, he’d had his share of beers, although his alcohol buzz had faded long ago. Sitting on Charlotte’s couch, the heat of her against him and the smell of her hair, shifted his pulse up a gear through the fogginess.
He was about to take a deep, calming breath when she sat up and looked past him at her brother. Disturbed, Craig’s eyes flew open. Andy was sleeping, but noting the terror threatening to grip Charlotte, Craig picked up his wrist, found his pulse and offered it to her. She felt it and reassured, leaned back in her seat, her head coming to rest against Craig’s shoulder.
She released a heavy sigh. ‘Sorry, just a moment of panic.' She moved slightly and her slip crept up her milky thighs. Don’t look, Craig told himself.
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘No. Although Cassie comes pretty close to being a sister.’
‘Why do you call her Cassie?’ Charlotte asked. ‘She always insists everyone calls her Cassette.’
‘She insists I do too, but I won’t. I can’t.’
‘Hmm.' She smiled at that. ‘Does she piss you off like only a sibling can?’
‘As far as I can judge, yes.' He laughed softly.
‘Mine sure know how to piss me off. I had no idea Andy was using. Did not even suspect he might be tempted. I really thought he would stay well away from it. And Emily, I don’t know what to do with her. One minute she’s working like she’s never worked before and seemingly content, the next she’s hell bent on imploding. I understand, and I know I need to let her work it through, but I feel so helpless. When she attacked me tonight, I was so angry at her, I just walked away and abandoned her. I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Hey,’ Craig said, tipping her chin so she met his eyes. ‘This is not your fault, nor is it your responsibility. Emily and Andy are adults, Charlotte. They should be taking care of themselves.’
‘But I’ve always taken care of them,’ she said. ‘Mum was too busy working and Dad was never around even when he was alive. I don’t think I know how to stop trying to take care of them.’
‘You need someone to take care of you,’ he said, unwisely as he laid a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
‘Hmm,’ she murmured again, lazily this time, moving against him alluringly. She changed the subject deftly, cheekily. ‘Maybe someone who can drive me around tomorrow so I can look for somewhere to relocate my gallery before it gets bulldozed to make way for some 1980s abomination.’
‘Mmm,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘Can’t do that. Conflict of interest. Does that mean you're giving up?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Of course I’m not giving up. I was just testing you.'
She looked up at him, eyes smouldering and ready to play.
‘Yeah, right,’ he said.
Her eyes dropped to his lips and his mind emptied of everything but her. Compelled by a force over which he had no control, he kissed her, gently, but confidently. She didn’t pull away. Her arms slipped around him, and she accepted his increasingly ardent kiss.
He breathed her in and savoured her: the smell of her; the taste of her and the heat of her. After a time, he broke the kiss to trace his lips across the tear paths marking her cheeks, wishing he could make sure she never cried again. His trail of kisses moved along her jawline, back, back, back towards the soft spot behind her ears. She sighed and climbed onto his lap, one hand reaching for the side of his neck and the other resting softly against his chest. His reaction was instant and powerful. He needed to get her closer. Moving one hand to her luscious hips, he pulled her nearer and then reached the other up into her hair to steer her mouth back to his. As he claimed her lips once more, he suddenly received a sharp, forceful elbow directly to the ribs.
‘Let go of my sister,’ Andy growled, coming to beside them. Craig had forgotten he was there. Charlotte seemed equally surprised. She flushed, glared at her brother and climbed out of Craig’s embrace. Thankfully she didn’t run away, but simply turned her attention to the muted TV, breathing heavily and snuggling into the crook of his arm with her head on hi
s now painfully constricted chest.
‘You’re killing me,’ he whispered into her jasmine-scented hair.
Chapter fourteen
Charlotte woke against something warm and solid. She inhaled him before she opened her eyes.
‘Hi,’ Craig murmured, hearing her breathing change.
They were still on the couch. Nestled against him with her arms wrapped around his chest, she was hanging on for dear life. Reluctantly, she untangled herself and sat up. He looked a little dishevelled, extremely tired and entirely delectable.
‘What time is it?’ she asked, looking at her watch to answer her own question. The sunshine outside was intense, and her apartment was heating up, suggesting it was mid-morning. ‘Nine o’clock,’ she mused. Not late enough, given they’d been awake when the first rays of said sunshine had crept over the horizon.
‘Did you sleep?’ she asked him, looking back up.
‘A little,’ he said, catching her gaze, making her slightly giddy.
She resisted the urge to snuggle back against him. He hadn’t moved, as though he was waiting for her to do just that. It felt so natural to have him sprawled across her couch.
He brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face with the familiarity of a lover. If only.
‘Did I dribble on you?’ Charlotte asked.
He looked down in mock horror. ‘No, no dribble,’ he said, wiping his hand across his shirt-front to demonstrate.
Charlotte smiled. Despite the adventures of her wayward siblings last night, waking up in his arms made her feel like everything would be okay. She felt like she belonged there, like that was home. Against her better judgment, she wanted him to stay. To stop him running out the door.
‘Coffee?’
‘Please,’ he agreed, sitting up, running his hand through his hair and following her with his eyes as she poked around her kitchen. He smiled at her when their eyes met, returning her goofy grin.
Oh help me, I’m in love, she thought.
Making the coffee, she was grateful for familiarity of the routine. So completely did he fill her awareness, she surely would have fumbled if it hadn’t been so second nature.
‘Do you know what happened to Andy?’ she asked, trying to sound calm as she handed him his coffee and reclaimed her seat on the couch next to him.
‘He got up at about five and disappeared into your room. I may have fallen asleep on him. I may have been crushing him.'
Charlotte giggled at the visual and was relieved he hadn’t found somewhere else to sleep when she'd fallen asleep on him. She took a sip from her cup and set it down on the coffee table.
‘Do you want me to stick around?’ Craig asked. Delighted by the offer, Charlotte let herself be drawn in by his gravitational pull. She edged an inch or so closer.
‘For the fireworks?’ she asked.
‘If that’s how it’s going to play out, maybe I don’t want to stick around,’ he teased, setting his own cup down and moving an inch closer himself. His eyes were on her lips as he ran his tongue over his own, openly preparing to sample her.
She readied herself for the welcome onslaught, but before it came, her bedroom door opened and Andy stumbled out, still in last night’s clothes: damp; greasy and wrecked.
Charlotte’s mood shifted fast, faster than even she could have anticipated. She leapt off the couch and turned on her brother. He wasn’t stoned any more. It was time for some answers.
‘What the fuck, Andy?’ she demanded.
She hadn’t expected him to emerge so early and banked on having the rest of the morning to prepare her interrogation. That he was up, and searching for his gear, threw her off. He was on a mission to get out of the line of fire as quickly as he could.
Craig slowly stood up behind her. A barricade of strength to back her up, not getting in her way and not leaving her side either.
‘Piss off, Charlotte. I don’t need to hear your self-righteous bullshit,’ Andy snapped.
Behind her, Craig stiffened and then relaxed, ready to pounce.
Charlotte didn’t back down. She might not be prepared to voice it with reason, but she had a bit to get off her chest. ‘How could you bring that shit into my house? It’s not only stupid, Andrew, it’s fucking disrespectful. You know how I feel about that stuff. How do you think I felt seeing you unconscious like that?’
‘I knew you’d overreact like this. It was nothing, Charlotte. I’m fine.’
‘Nothing? For fuck’s sake, Andy. We couldn’t wake you up.' Her voice wavered. Craig laid his hand gently on the back of her neck, and it was like salve. She leaned back into it a fraction as a tear escaped. ‘I woke up to that sound, Andy: the sound of someone being slapped back to consciousness. Do you remember that sound, Andy?’
Andy’s phoned beeped, and he jumped to the welcome distraction. He read the incoming text and then looked around the room again. ‘Where’s my shit?’ he asked.
Craig caressed the back of Charlotte’s neck with his thumb. ‘I may have thrown it down the stairs after your mates,’ he told Andy.
Andy looked at him for the first time, as though he'd just realised he was still there from last night. Charlotte could see him weighing up his opponent. Craig was tall and toned, and he made Andy look like a little boy dressing up as a rockstar. Which, for the most part, he was.
‘Who is this guy, Charlotte?' Andy asked, dismissively.
Lulled by the soothing hand on the back of her neck and the wall of warmth behind her, Charlotte began to offer the answer that felt natural. ‘My boy...'
Thankfully, the word caught in her throat. But it was a good question. Who was Craig to her now? She’d woken up in love with him, but he was far from her boyfriend. His agenda with the gallery made him her adversary.
She thought about last night and all that he'd done for her, from looking out for her sister to throwing out Andy’s band mates. Staying with her while she was afraid. Why? And why was he still here? After her Freudian slip, she couldn’t look at him, but she could still feel him, even where he wasn’t touching her. He felt steady and reassuring.
The answer she eventually gave Andy was noncommittal. ‘This is Craig. Craig - my brother, Andy.'
‘Why’d you chuck my shit out, Craig,’ Andy sneered.
‘I was cleaning out the junk and I guess it got caught up in it.' Craig wasn’t backing down.
Andy glowered at him. Waving his phone at Charlotte, indicating the message he’d just received, he said, ‘The boys are in the van downstairs. We’re heading up the coast now. Say goodbye to Emily for me.’
Damn him, he was running out on her. ‘Wait, Andy. You can’t leave like this. We need to talk about this.’
‘We don’t need to talk about it, Charlotte, because I already know what you're going to say. Rewind the conversation we’ve just had and hit repeat. You’re so much like Mum, Charlotte.’
Ouch.
His impudence was too much for Craig. He stepped in front of Charlotte and, through gritted teeth noted, ‘You know, if you weren’t Charlotte’s brother, I’d tell you that you're a little git. But because you’re her brother I won’t, because she loves you, and I wouldn’t want to insult anyone she loves. However, I do agree you should go now. And perhaps when you’re feeling a little less insolent you might give her a call and tell her you’re sorry for what you’ve done and what you’ve said.’
Charlotte stared at his back, dumbfounded.
The two men scowled at each other some more until a knock on the door sent Andy scampering to answer it, collecting what was left of his belongings on the way. Craig hounded him down the hall. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Justin, the lead singer of Reality Cheque, standing on the door step. Charlotte slid up beside Craig as Andy fled down the stairs, gathering his scattered clothes as he went.
Justin looked Craig up and down but wasn’t intimidated. Out of all the band members, he was the most mature and confident. Contrary to his on-stage persona, he also lacked the arro
gance of the others and was humble and genuine off-stage.
‘Hey, Charlotte,’ he said, speaking directly to her. ‘Wazza told me what happened last night. I expect he’s been a dick this morning, yeah?’
‘What’s going on, Justin? What are you guys up to?' Charlotte glared at him, waiting for an explanation. Craig watched on, mutely.
‘I want you to know I’ve got nothing to do with it, Charlotte. I’m not sure how much Andy has told you, but this is not his first overdose.’
‘I gathered that from Wazza.’
Justin pressed on. ‘After the first one, he promised me he would lay off the shit, and I believed him.’
Charlotte heard her parent’s arguments in her head. It was the same old story.
Justin continued. ‘After the second one, I told him three strikes you’re out. I said I would kick him out of the band. This is the third strike. It pisses me off as much as you, I’m sure. I’m not going to drag junkies around with me, especially when we’re looking at touring internationally soon. I don’t need to take that shit to Japan. After this tour, it’s either rehab or he’s out. I’m pretty sure he won’t take the threat lightly.’
Charlotte nodded cautiously, somewhat relieved at least one of them didn’t condone the drug use. That it was Justin, who was the band’s main drawcard and therefore yielded some influence, was comforting. Charlotte leaned against Craig, and he silently slipped an arm around her shoulders.
‘I’m worried I won’t hear from him. Will you call me to let me know he’s alright?’
‘Sure. What’s your number?’
Charlotte recited her number and Justin typed it into his phone. ‘I’m so sorry, Charlotte,’ he said before he left, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.
Craig dropped his arm as she closed the door, but trailed his hand up and down her back as they walked the few steps back to the kitchen. Charlotte poured herself a glass of water at the sink.
‘Are you okay?’ Craig asked.
I might be if you put your hand on the back of my neck again.
Set Me Free Page 16