Ironically, moments after we reach the bar, the blonde from earlier and one of her friends show up and start talking to Brock and Charlie.

Brock sits next to me and Charlie leans beside me, on the corner of the bar.

Both girls are friendly, but seem very drunk. When Brock begins speaking to me again, singling me out, I envy them in their state and start taking longer sips of my cherry vodka mix.

“So, are you in school?”

“Yes, I’m a freshman at Clemson,” I respond, feeling guilty for having developed a distaste for him already, but also reminding myself that my conviction is justified, since he tried to upset Charlie.

“Smart girl, huh? I decided school wasn’t really for me. I co-own a tattoo parlor – “

“School isn’t for everyone,” I remind him, or myself; I’m not sure, “As long as you’re doing something that you love.”

I am becoming more buzzed, and my mind starts to wander. As he continues to tell me about his ink parlor, I study him, comparing his features to Charlie’s.

Brock’s hair is much longer – hanging just an inch or two above his shoulders – and straight; Charlie’s hair is curly and, which short in comparison, the body makes his more prominent, to me anyways.

Brock has a lengthy face, and his features are hard and pointy; Charlie’s face is well proportioned, and his features appear softer, but are somehow stronger as well.

Brock has a narrow mouth with plump lips and a faint mustache; Charlie has a wider mouth, pleasantly full lips, and his face is always cleanly shaven.

Brock’s collection of tattoos is certainly more expansive than Charlie’s, and the bright colors certainly don’t make them any more subtle. Every one that I glance at is very beautifully done, though.

Brock has small, brown eyes that seem to mock you, like they belong always with a smirk; Charlie’s eyes are large and expressive, and the deepest blue.

On the outside, they are almost opposites, but I know that they are probably even more different on the inside.

Again, I start to scold myself, because I’ve just spent a fair bit of time thinking only of looks, and because he is very friendly, though I imagine it is only condescendingly.

I would guess that lots of girls find Brock’s original look attractive, and a few might even mistake his impishness for mystery or charm. He still makes me uncomfortable, and he is still talking.

“…He was an asshole though, I didn’t feel bad messing that one up. But you could trust me on you,” he says, and I hope that he is still talking about tattoos.

“I could see one on you, baby. Right here.”

I suddenly feel his hand on my back, right above my butt, and he shifts so that he can watch as his fingers graze the black fabric of my dress.

I jump slightly at the contact, but I don’t have time to react before I hear Charlie’s voice.

“Get your hand off of her. Now.”

Brock freezes at Charlie’s words, still looking at his own hand on me. Then, he starts to laugh, and finally looks towards Charlie, removing his hand.

“Oh, come on, Charlie. It’s not like me grazing her ass is going to keep you from taking her home, not tonight at least.”

Charlie grabs Brock’s arm and jerks him off of the stool.

In the same instant, I hop down from mine and quickly go to stand behind Charlie, wrapping both of my hands around his large arm, which is extended now, holding Brock in front of him.

Charlie doesn’t appear like he is going to fight Brock – and I think Brock knows it too, because he is still smiling up at Charlie, though somewhat nervously.

I would be nervous. Brock is slender – not super lankly, by any means; but in height and size, Charlie has him by a landslide.

“You’re leaving,” Charlie states, his voice is deep and quiet.

Since I am still behind him, my hands on his arm, I can’t see how angry Charlie’s face is, but I’m glad that his actions aren’t too irrational.

“Charlie,” I say softly, “Let’s just you and I leave. I want to leave now.”

And just like that, he instantly removes his hand from Brock’s arm and wraps it around my waist, slowly moving us towards our table, to say goodbye to the boys.

Somehow, the two girls who were talking to Charlie fled quickly, I suppose right after he grabbed Brock.

Surprisingly, only the few of the closest tables have noticed the conflict. They look away as Charlie and I walk past.

Smith, Gabe, and Tommy had somehow missed the entire thing, and are still talking and laughing as we approach. We all say goodbye, and I thank them for letting Charlie and I tag along tonight. Besides the small upset, it was actually really fun.

As we exit the bar, into the brightness of the sidewalk, I realize how drunk I am.

“I want to pay you back for my drinks. It was too expensive,” I tell Charlie, squinting at the lights.

“No, Stella. You aren’t paying me. I’m sorry about what just happened. I wouldn’t have hit him, unless he tried to hurt you. He was just being a jerk and I couldn’t stand it anymore. And he touched you.”

As Charlie finishes, I stumble over nothing on the sidewalk, but he steadies me, quickly.

“It’s okay. I thought you were very composed, actually. You know what would make you feel better? Water.”

Charlie looks down at me, amused as we walk along.

“Are you telling me that you need a glass of water? I think that is a good idea.”

“No, I mean like water… ocean. Are we close to a boardwalk or harbor? I am lost.”

Charlie laughs and tells me that it’s a bit of a walk, but that he’ll take me if I want to go.

“Doesn’t it sound nice, seeing the ocean? I think it’s worth the walk.”

“Me too, baby.”

Most of our walk is spent talking about things that we see or hear along the way, and Charlie laughs at me a lot.

There is a particular tree we walk past that is full of birds, and they’re all very noisy, like they are arguing for a bit of branch to sit on.

“Do you think that they realize that there is a bigger tree just there, across the street?” I ask Charlie, pointing in the second tree’s direction.

He chuckles, “Maybe you should try telling them.”

“Are you mocking me?” I act offended, and then continue,

“Do you think anyone ever looks down on us and thinks the same thing? Like, ‘Look – I’ve given you a bigger, better tree just across the way and here you are, fighting for something that isn’t yours because you’re stubborn, and you don’t realize that there is something better out there for you.’”

“By ‘anyone’ do you mean, like God?” Charlie asks. I’m probably still amusing him, but I can tell that he’s really considering what I’m saying.

“No, more like his secretary,” I laugh at myself, even though it isn’t that funny.

“Or maybe it’s something that we’re missing entirely, rather than something that can be replaced. Like with you and I – we were seeing each other three times a week, for almost three months before we really spoke. That had to be frustrating for someone.”

“I know it was frustrating for me,” I feel him squeeze my hand as we continue down the sidewalk.

I nearly fall twice more.

My last stumble happens as we near the ocean. I suddenly speed up, dragging Charlie along so that we can stare at the water over the rail on the side of a path that runs parallel to where the ocean meets the land.

I catch myself on the metal railing, and Charlie laughs lightly, placing his hands on my waist from behind, “Are you alight?”

I laugh, “I’m sorry that you have to watch me like a child. You just stood up for me in a bar, and now you have to make sure that I don’t trip over air because I’m drunk. I am such a damsel.”

“You’re not a damsel, baby,” He says, leaning down from behind me and kissing my neck.

“I am though. And what’s scary is that I need you so much, and I never even knew.”

Charlie stops kissing me and I feel his lips form a smile on my skin.

“I wasn’t afraid tonight, you know. Not at the fight and not when you grabbed Brock. You make me feel safe. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that before – I should have. I think it a lot, though.”

Charlie waits for a moment, and I continue to stare at the gorgeous landscape in front of me. Then, he whispers my name, stepping beside me and moving his hand under my chin and tilting my face up so he can kiss me.

I turn to the side, so that my body is facing him, the ocean beside us at a short distance.

The air is very cool tonight, I suspect that the alcohol has been keeping me warm, but once my arms find their way around Charlie’s waist, between his blazer and his undershirt, I realize how cold I am.

Charlie must feel it too, because he jumps a bit and pulls his lips from mine.

“You’re freezing, baby. I’m sorry, I should have thought about that – here.”

He starts to remove his blazer and I protest.

“No, Charlie. You shouldn’t be cold because I was too stupid to not bring a jacket, I’m fine, really – “

But Charlie is already moving me, putting my arms into his sleeves and pulling the black blazer over my shoulders.

“Once again – damsel,” I groan, but I reach for his hand and am thankful. His sleeves are still so warm from the heat of his arms, and the fit is so big and comfortable.

He is behind me again and we are both staring off at the water. His arms are wrapped tightly around me, keeping us extra close.

“It’s not that – We just help each other in different ways,” Charlie says, his voice soft, “I love you, Stella – for all of the ways that you help me.”

I’m frozen for a second, allowing his words to echo over and over again. They sound so sweet.

And for that second, he lets me be. He doesn’t move and his arms don’t tighten out of worry. He just holds me, still looking at the scene in front of us: the ocean and dark sky, distinguishable only by the stars and the moon, and how the moonlight reflects on the calm, rippling waves. And you can hear the water move, just barely.

I finally turn in his arms to face him, and he bows his head towards mine and focuses on my lips, still waiting without haste.

I bring hands to the back of his neck and pull him ever closer, so that our foreheads are resting against each other.

“I love you, Charlie.”

One of my hands rubs his arm at my waist. I bring my other hand up to his face, and I trace my fingers underneath his eyes and over to his cheek, doing the same to the other side. He closes his eyes under my touch, his breathing relaxed.

My fingers end up on his soft lips, which are extra rosy from the cold and wind. I trace them for a second, my fingers gently brushing over their perfect shape, before I rise to my toes and kiss him. I leave only a peck on his lips, and then one on his nose, and on either cheek.

I hear a vibration, and it is coming from Charlie’s pocket. He has kept both my phone and his in his pocket all night. Since he never lets me pay, and I only really need my phone, I thought it fairly unnecessary that I bring a purse.

“This is probably for you,” He says, pulling out both of our phones.

I doubt that it is though, since I’ve already talked to my parents today and it is already so late.

“No, it’s me,” Charlie confirms, “Casey Isaacs called.”

“Call her back, then. I’ll just wait here,” I say, remembering that Charlie left me on the couch last time Casey called – and I understand why. If Casey is upset, it is easier for him to talk to her without me hovering. I turn around and lean forward on the rail with my arms crossed beneath me, still warm under Charlie’s blazer.

He walks only feet from me, sending his call. I genuinely try not to eavesdrop, because Charlie has told me about the situation, and it feels wrong for me to know too much yet.

Distracting myself is easy, because I am still tipsy.

I watch a single boat travel slowly across the dark horizon. I love boats. I wish I were on that very boat right now, with Charlie. We would watch the moon; and when we were sure that no one on the shore could see us, we would make the driver stop the boat, and we would take off our clothes and jump into the cold water. It would be dark, but I wouldn’t be afraid, because I’d have him with me.

I’m so glad that he loves me.

I wonder to myself if Charlie has ever been on a boat before.

I pull my gaze from the ocean and look over my shoulder at him, just in time to hear him say goodbye and hand up the phone.

I quickly look back towards the water, tucking my hair behind my ear on one side. It keeps blowing into my face.

He stands beside me, leaning on the rail as well and staring off.

“Are you worried about him?” I ask, referring to Mark.

“I am, yes,” He says, “I’m angry with him, too. Casey is amazing, and Mason needs him. He would rather spend his time at a table with chips, a deck, and a drink.”

I don’t know how to respond, because I only know so much – and I don’t want to pry. At the same time, I want him to know that he can talk to me and I won’t hold anything against Mark, or even give my opinion – I just want to help Charlie in any way that I can.

Fortunately, he begins to speak again,

“Stella, if things start to get bad again, you may have to stay away from me for a while.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. The night is getting colder and I wonder how Charlie isn’t shivering yet, without his blazer.

He looks down at his feet, a frown playing on his brow. As he opens his mouth to speak, I back up slightly from the rail.

“Tell me on the way back to the room?” I ask. The wind is blowing my long hair about again, and I run my hand through it, attempting to keep it from my eyes.

Charlie takes my hand and starts to lead us back towards the hotel, which is a much shorter walk than it was from the bar.

As we walk, he tells me more.

“When Mark and I had all of that trouble with his loaners before, I told you that they tried to hurt people, even me. I never want anyone like that to even know about you. If these men are anything like the last group – they will do anything to get their money’s worth from Mark.”

“I understand,” I say, looking down at my feet as we walk. Charlie is holding my hand and he squeezes it when he hears my voice drop.

“Baby, I just don’t want to put you in danger. That’s all,”

“I know,” I say, looking up and ahead, “But what about you? I don’t want to be away from you if I feel like you aren’t safe.”

“I know you don’t want to, but keeping you out of their reach – out of their minds, even – that is more important.”

“Do you really think they will try to hurt you? Can’t you get police involved now?” I look up at him, still holding his hand as we walk together. I probably sound like a begging child.

“I don’t know that they will try to hurt me, no. The other group of men knew more about Mark, and they knew that I was a source of income as a boxer. If they threatened me, they thought that Mark would have to pay up. If they actually did hurt me, he would lose money, and at least they’d have gotten revenge. But this group – I can’t think that they know much about me. But I will be there for Casey or Mason if they try to hurt them. We can’t involve police now; no one has actually made a threat. Unless they are threatening Mark and he’s not speaking. I’m afraid of that.”

“Did anything specific happen tonight?” I ask, because he has already opened up, and I’m desperate to know how dangerous the situation is at the moment. Charlie is cautious, yes – but he doesn’t seem like the type to be easily worked up over rumors of danger. His past experience with Mark’s loaners must have been worse than he lets on.

“Casey said that there has been a certain car hanging out in front of her house a lot lately, and it’s there now. She is calling her sister and brother-in-law and they are going to stay with her and Mason for a bit. Mark won’t answer his phone,” Charlie rubs his face in frustration, with the hand that isn’t holding mine.

I bring my free hand across my own body, and start to rub his arm.

“It will be alright. Even though you don’t have to, you’ll make sure everyone is safe. I love you.”

We’re nearly to the doors of the hotel now, and Charlie is smiling down at me.

“I love you, Stella,” he says it quietly, but clearly, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

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The song in the sidebar isn't mentioned in this chapter, but I listened to it while writing :) It's new and I just love it.

Anyways, THANK YOU for nearly 700 reads! Hope you all like this update. x