Bass unlocked the door of his apartment in Chicago and stepped inside. It smelled slightly stale, and of lemons. He was glad that the housekeeper he had hired had apparently been showing up. The place was spotless, sterile.
Sighing, he threw his keys on the foyer table and walked aimlessly through his place. Now that he was there, he was starting to regret ever coming. It had been sheer panic, running away.
After he told Charlie he loved her, he did his best to act nonchalant, like he'd hardly noticed what he'd said. But he'd lain awake all night, every passing minute filling him with regrets and 'what ifs' and self-doubt. How could he have told Charlie he loved her? Did he even deserve to say that to her? What did he have to offer her, really? He was so much older than her, with a shitload of issues on top of it. Normally, when he and Charlie were together, he didn't feel their age difference; in fact, he felt like they were exactly in sync. But lying there in his bed with her warm, soft body nestled into his side, he felt every one of his years.
Bass tried to convince himself that it wasn't actually a big deal, that he'd told women he loved them here and there, when it seemed like what they expected or wanted to him to say. They were just words. But he knew that this time it was different, because this time he'd wanted to say it. This time, probably for the first time, he'd meant it. And the implications terrified him.
Did this mean he would ask Charlie to marry him? Was she going to expect him to have kids with her? Did he want that? Did he NOT want that? Would living together be a dream come true, or the thing that finally showed they'd been kidding themselves all along? Over and over, the questions swirled through his mind on an endless loop.
Finally, at around 3 a.m., Bass had known he just needed to get away from the temporary life he'd set up in Philadelphia for a while. It had been amazing, spending these months with Charlie, but in so many ways, it wasn't reality for him. Reality was Chicago, his home of the last several years. Maybe getting back there would put his mind right.
So he'd jumped on his cell phone, booked a (ridiculously expensive) last minute plane ticket for just a few hours from then. And now here he was, back in his vacant, cold, apartment. Wondering what the hell to do next.
Sighing, Bass pulled out his cell phone. Stop being an ass, he told himself, and called the number for his apartment back in Philly. His generic answering machine message clicked on, and he spoke to Charlie.
"Hey, babe, hope you're okay. Sorry if you were freaked out by me leaving this morning. Just felt like I had to get back and check on things in Chicago. That probably doesn't make any sense…" He trailed off. "Anyway, everything's fine, I'll try to call you again later. Bye."
He hung up and stood staring at his phone for a few more seconds. Then, he made a decision. Grabbing his keys, he turned and headed back out the door.
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Several hours later, Bass walked into the bar. It was early afternoon, and the bright sunlight in a place he normally saw in the darkness of night was disconcerting. Chairs were up on tables around the room, and the room was eerily quiet with the TVs off and no patrons around. A single figure stood behind the bar, bent at the waist, examining shelves of liquor bottles.
The man straightened and turned. Catching sight of Bass, he froze. Bass walked toward him, standing on the other side of the bar.
"Bass," Miles said, his face just this side of displeased. "What are you doing here?"
Bass wished that standing there dumbly would be sufficient. That his oldest friend would recognize when he was going through too much shit to talk about it coherently, pour him a drink, and just be there with him. But now, of all times, that wasn't going to happen. So he had to figure out what to say.
"I flew out first thing this morning," Bass said. "I thought I just needed to get out of Philly, get back to Chicago, but really… I had to talk to you."
Miles' face was impassive. "And why would that be?" he said dryly.
"Fuck, why do you think? I've missed you. And last night when you asked to talk to me I thought… maybe you don't want to kill me anymore." Bass gave a slight, ironic smile.
Seeming unable to help himself, Miles smiled back slightly. Then he shook his head, "That's bullshit."
Bass' heart dropped, and his eyes widened. "What?" he managed to croak out. He knew Miles wouldn't make this easy on him, but he had hoped he wouldn't be quite so harsh.
"You're not just here cause we talked last night. You could have come back any time in the last four months if you just wanted to see if we can kiss and make up. So I ask again: why are you here?"
Resting both his hands on the bar, Bass dropped his head down weakly, staring at the floor. Almost under his breath, he muttered, "Last night… I told Charlie I love her." He didn't dare look up at Miles to see his reaction.
His friend was silent, and Bass heard the sound of liquid sloshing against glass. Miles reached into Bass' field of vision and plunked a tumbler down on the bar between his hands. The strong scent of bourbon wafted up to his nose.
Gratefully, Bass grasped the drink, took a bracing swig, and finally met Miles' eyes. "Thanks," he said, raising the glass slightly in appreciation.
Miles grimaced. "Let's be clear. That's not a celebratory toast. It's strictly medicinal."
Bass nodded, taking another drink. "I told her and then I just… I couldn't sleep, all night. Just thinking about, am I ruining her life, how is this going to work, we've been kidding ourselves…" He looked at Miles balefully. "And I know you must hate hearing this, but there is fucking literally nobody else for me to talk to." Another drink. "So maybe no one at all."
Briefly closing his eyes as if pained, Miles looked back at Bass, his face softened with empathy. After staring at Bass for a couple seconds, he commented, "You're being kind of a bitch right now."
It was so unexpected, Bass barked with laughter and sat down heavily on one of the bar stools. He felt all the tension rush out of his body as he chuckled some more, feeling the relief of having Miles pull him out of his own head.
"Look." Miles continued. "I am only going to say this once, and I can't believe I am going to say it at all. You are allowed to love Charlie."
The mirth faded from Bass' face, and his chest tightened as Miles' words sank in.
"And you deserve to have her love you. All right?" Miles smacked the bar decisively, then turned his back on Bass, folding some bar towels as he gave him time to absorb what he'd said.
Bass was utterly floored by what Miles had just told him. As usual, his best friend knew exactly what Bass needed to hear, when he hadn't even known himself. He was allowed to love Charlie. Allowed to be happy, to start a new life with someone when he'd given up on finding love years ago. And Miles thought he was worthy of Charlie, the person that Bass knew meant more to Miles than anyone else in the world. It was all he could have hoped to hear, and yet…
"No," Bass called out. Miles threw a towel down and turned around, glaring. "Not all right."
"Excuse me?" Miles said incredulously.
"I mean, I appreciate the change of heart, don't get me wrong. But I can't trust something I don't understand," Bass said.
Miles paused for a few seconds, then said, "You took Charlie to Gettysburg."
"Yeah…" Bass said cautiously. The trip had been a disaster. It was just shortly after they'd gotten to Philly, and he had been so excited to explore the legendary battlefield with Charlie. But it had been freezing, and their attempts to explore the outdoor landmarks had left them both cold and miserable. To make things worse, the interior exhibit halls were either closed for updating or overrun with a particularly boisterous junior high school group. Charlie had teased him mercilessly about his terrible taste in date locations for days afterward.
"Yeah, well, the day she told me about that, she was so excited. More excited than I'd heard her in a long time, maybe ever." Miles leaned on the bar, looking at Bass with a serious expression. "So, even though she tried to avoid mentioning you, I started listening. And it turned out, Charlie isn't just the moody, snarky girl I thought she was. Well, she is. But she's also joyful, optimistic, and adventurous. You brought that out in her. The Charlie I've been talking to since you moved to Philly with her is the happiest I've ever heard her."
Bass couldn't hold back a grin. "Wow. Alright. Thank you, for that."
Miles groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, you're welcome. Part of me still wishes it was any other woman for you, any other guy for her. But maybe that was never possible."
"I ran out on her in the middle of the night," Bass confessed, somewhat out of the blue. "I panicked, and I flew out here without even telling her I was going."
Miles nodded, "Yeah, I know. She called me. Wanted me to go easy on you if you came here. And wanted me to keep you out of trouble if it came to that."
"Shit," Bass said, feeling terrible that Charlie had been scared he would return to fighting. He pulled out his phone, dialing the number to his apartment again. After a few rings, his machine clicked on again, and he hung up. "She thought I'd go to Gould's?"
Shrugging, Miles replied, "Didn't really seem like it. More like she just wanted to make sure someone was here for you since she couldn't be."
"I gotta get back there," Bass said, standing up decisively. "I need to talk to her."
Miles smirked. "Fly halfway across the country for a five-minute conversation with me. Fly back to have one with her. They do have these things called phones, you know."
"Right, you're one to talk," Bass retorted. Standing, downing the remainder of his bourbon, he nodded. "Thanks for the drink. See you for the graduation?"
"Yeah," Miles said. "Take care, Bass."
Meeting his brother's eyes, Bass held his gaze for a few seconds. Seeing no malice there, only openness and friendship, Bass nodded, and turned and left.
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Bass entered his apartment in Philly practically at a run. It was the middle of the night, he wasn't even entirely sure of the time – his phone had died in the air, and he'd been focused on only one thing – getting back to Charlie.
She was there. Up, waiting for him. Looking so adorable in her usual tank top and sweatpants, hair in a messy bun on her head, eyes bleary with fatigue as she looked up at him from where she sat on the couch, the TV on quietly in front of her. As soon as she met his eyes, she sprang up and walked over to him.
Bass hesitated, unsure, wondering if she was mad at him, or… his thoughts were silenced as Charlie threw herself into his arms, resting her head against his chest. She felt so warm, hot really, through his layers of clothes. Gratefully, he wound his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest.
"Charlie, I'm so sorry," he started. "I'm a total ass for running away like that. You don't deserve…"
Charlie pulled back from him and met his eyes, which he saw were shining with tears. Shit.
"It's okay," she said. "I understand. I've done plenty of running in my time. How do you think I ended up in Philly in the first place?"
Bass' heart melted at her generosity. "I'm sure you didn't leave your family like a thief in the night," he protested.
Charlie shrugged. "Not the point. The point is: you came back. There was something you needed to do, and rather than let it eat you, and us, alive, you took care of it."
"You talk to Miles?" Bass asked.
"Yeah. He called me after you left. Said you were on your way back. That you guys had straightened things out."
"He said he's okay with us being together," Bass said, still hardly believing it himself.
Charlie smiled. "That's good. It's seemed that way for a while. His silence when I mention you has been a lot less angry lately."
Bass laughed slightly. "Well, that's something." He paused, then said, "I came here prepared to grovel and beg for your forgiveness. I feel like I don't know what to say now."
Charlie ran her hands up his stomach, over his chest, and across his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. Bass let it drop to the floor behind him. "Then maybe stop talking for a little while," she suggested. "Just because I'm not mad at you, doesn't mean I haven't been worried as hell the last 24 hours. I think you need to make it up to me." Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Charlie pulled Bass down to her for a deep kiss.
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Charlie stood in front of a mirror in her and Bass' apartment and groaned, flapping her arms so her black gown billowed around her. "This looks ridiculous," she complained.
Bass came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'll admit I like the dress better," he said, referring to the form-fitting but modest burgundy dress she was wearing underneath. "But you make this look good, too."
Turning to face him, Charlie proclaimed, "Liar." Stretching up, she kissed him, then added, "Sexy liar." Unlike her, Bass looked devastatingly gorgeous and well put together, in an immaculate gray suit.
"By the way, I got a nice text from Duncan this morning," Charlie said. "She was sorry she couldn't come. Said she'd give me my gift when she sees us next week." Charlie and Duncan had been in touch on and off since New Year's Eve. Lately, they'd been communicating more, especially since Bass had finally decided to accept Duncan's offer to become a partner in her business. Charlie knew they were going to be a significant part of each other's lives once she and Bass returned to Chicago.
"Nice," Bass commented. Glancing at the clock, he said, "We better go."
Bass drove Charlie to the auditorium, and they made plans to meet up afterward. She found her seat between two other history majors with last names beginning with "Ma" who she'd never met before. The beginning of the ceremony seemed to go by quickly, and before she knew it, it was time for her row to line up.
As Charlie mounted the steps to walk across the stage, she looked out over the crowd, hoping against hope for a glimpse of Bass or Miles. Her dad hadn't come up for the graduation – her brother's high school graduation had been scheduled for the same day, in a cruel coincidence. Once she'd learned that, she'd known what her dad would choose. After all, fair was fair. He'd been at Charlie's high school graduation four years before and couldn't miss Danny's. She told herself she couldn't let it bother her. But that didn't mean it didn't, just a little.
Against all odds, she spotted Bass and her uncle sitting next to each other. Charlie smiled affectionately at Miles' attempt to dress nicely for the ceremony. His rumpled gray slacks clashed somewhat with his tan blazer, but it was an admirable effort. More importantly, she was thrilled to see the two of them sitting together. After Bass' trip to Chicago, she figured they would be civil, but now she knew for sure.
Charlie snapped out of her reverie as she saw there was only one person left in front of her. Then, suddenly, it was just her standing in front of everyone, and she heard her name booming over the loudspeaker, "Charlotte. Matheson." The crowd clapped politely, fatigued by this point in the alphabet. Over the smattering of applause, she thought she heard Miles' voice scream, "YEAH, CHARLIE!"
She hurried across the stage, willing herself not to trip, shook hands with the dean and president of the college, took her diploma, posed for a photo, and just like that, it was done. Charlie descended the stairs on the other side of the stage and returned to hear seat, her heart pounding with exhilaration.
As she retook her seat and prepared to listen to the Ns through Zs, Charlie grinned in anticipation of what the next few days would bring. She and Bass would return to Chicago – together. She'd have the summer off before starting her history grad program, and Bass would start in his new role at Duncan's security firm. It was all coming together so perfectly; it felt too good to be true.
Twisting in her seat, Charlie craned her neck to look back at where she'd spotted Bass and Miles. Miles was looking down at the program in dismay, she guessed at the long list of names yet to be called. But Bass glanced up at the same time she looked back. He met her eyes with a grin, his own happiness mirroring her own.
Nope, Charlie thought. Not too good to be true. Just really, really good.
A/N: Thank you all for your patience with this update – the story definitely took a turn from the sexy to the emotional, and it was a lot harder to write, but I hope it worked! (That is to say, sorry there's no smut in this chapter! *wink*) There will be an epilogue at some point, but consider this complete for now. Again, thank you all for your reads, reviews, and kind words.