We’re standing in her kitchen both damn near naked, and she’s offering me tea. I’m not sure how this can get any more awkward. Might as well make the best of it. She’s not freaking out or rushing away in embarrassment, so I’ll look like a dipshit if I do.
“It’s worth a shot.” I shrug and sit down. “Why can’t you sleep?”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
I raise a questioning brow, a silent plea to go on, and am surprised when she does.
“I’m making a significant career change. This is my first role in a movie, and I want people to like it. To like me. I want to prove that I can do more than play a teenage witch.”
“Do you like it?”
She nods.
“Then that’s all that matters.” I throw my arms out to gesture to the kitchen. “You must have some decent talent considering you’re able to afford all of this at your age.” Some people will work a lifetime and never earn enough money to buy a home like this.
“Money doesn’t always equal talent.”
I settle back in my chair. “I guess you’re right there.”
“Do you not like me?” The bluntness of her question surprises me.
Shit. Not the conversation I wanted to have with her. I look frenzied while I try to come up with the best answer.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You have this wall up. It seems you’d rather be anywhere but here. I mean, I’m not expecting you to be my biggest fan, but it’s like I pissed in your Cheerios or something.”
She has a point, but my dickness isn’t only because I’m here. That’s only a slice of it.
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.”
“I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I didn’t want to take this job.”
“Why? Because you think I’m a terrible person?”
“Never said that.”
She leans back against the cabinet and crosses her arms. “Actions speak louder than words, homeboy.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Exactly, so you have no right to judge me so early.”
“But,” I stress. “I’ve heard stories.”
She snorts. “Didn’t think you were one of those dudes. Stories from where?”
“Not from my brother.” I want to make that clear. Dallas has never muttered a bad word about her and has always kept her business private. “From magazines and shit.” And Cameron.
She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Magazines and shit? Those are some credible sources, let me tell ya.” She grins arrogantly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to like me. Not everyone has good taste.”
Damn. Maybe she does have some spark in her. I love me a smartass woman.
“Trust me, I have good taste,” I correct. “And a good eye for character. So far, you haven’t done anything too diva-like or whatever they say, but we’ve only known each other for a few hours. No one shows their flaws and bad side this early.”
She stares at me blankly. “So you’re hiding your flaws from me until later? What do you have some demon hidden away in there? Are you a psychopath or one of those men who like to be dressed up in a diaper and changed as sexual foreplay?”
I can’t stop a smile from flashing over my lips. Spunk, yeah she has it. “The last two are a huge ass negative.” Internal demons? Possibly. My stomach knots. “I’m sure you’ll find qualities I have that you don’t like. No one is perfect.”
This conversation is taking a huge turn from where I wanted it to go. My plan had been to drink some of this supposed miraculous tea, have limited conversation, and then get my ass to bed.
“Have you even watched my show before?” she asks.
“Can’t say I have. I tend to be an action fan. Teenage witches aren’t really my first choice.” Maven has asked me to watch it with her countless times, but I’ve never been interested.
A hint of sadness flows over her face, and she turns around when the teapot whistles through the awkward tension. She grabs two tea packets and places them in the cups.
“So why can’t you sleep?” she asks, keeping her attention on pouring water into the cups.
I scrub a hand over my face. “It’s only my second night back in the States. It’ll take some time for me to adjust to a different sleep schedule. It always does.”
She hands a cup to me. “Where were you stationed?”
“Afghanistan, both times.”
“Do you think you’ll go back again?”
“I promised my family that it would be my last, but I’m not so sure now.” I have nothing to stay here for. I take a sip of the tea, feeling it scorch the tip of my tongue. It’s a little bland for my taste, but not too bad.
She puckers her full lips and blows into her cup. “Why aren’t you sure?”
“Shit changed. People changed. I changed. My situation is different now than when I made that promise.”
“I say do whatever makes you happy.”
I yawn, and she holds up her cup, grinning.
“See. Told you it works.” She slides across the kitchen floor in her socks. “Goodnight, Hudson. Hopefully, you’ll like me tomorrow because we have a long day ahead of us.”
I turn around in my chair to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“We’re flying out in the morning to finish off the promotional tour. Didn’t Dallas tell you?”
“Nope. Must’ve slipped his mind.”
“Now you know. Get some rest.”
I give her a small smile. “Goodnight, Stella.”
I turn off the lights and bring the cup back to my room with me. Even though I can feel myself growing drowsy, something irritating is playing with my mind. I snatch my laptop from its sleeve and open up iTunes. I type in the name of her show and buy every season. I only make it through the first three episodes before dozing off.
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Acknowledgments
Writing can make you look selfish at times. It can make you feel selfish at times. When you’re caught up in your story, it leaves only a small amount of time to spend with family and friends.
Thank you to those who understand this. Thank you to those who don’t get angry at me for this.
My Other Half, this is where I usually say something along the lines of, “thank you for understanding when I don’t cook dinner and we order pizza or get takeout,” but who am I kidding? Writing or not, we both know my ass still wouldn’t be in the kitchen making dinner. You get me, and there’s no better feeling in the world to be around someone who gets you.
Jovanna Shirley, thank you for helping me create a stronger story for Dallas and Willow.
Bloggers, thank you times a million. You do so much for so little. You are our biggest cheerleaders. Every post , every shout out, every picture is so much appreciated.
Readers, I wish I could give all of you a giant thank you hug. There are millions of books out there, and you chose to read mine. You have no idea how incredibly grateful I am for each and every one of you.
xoxo,
Charity
About the Author
Charity Ferrell resides in Indianapolis, Indiana with her boyfriend and two dogs. She grew up riding her bicycle to her small town’s public library and reading everything she could get her hands on. She’s been known to read while waiting on stoplights to turn green.
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Just One Night Page 26