Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)

“Because it was fun, Ever.” Her high heels hit the floor in the background. “Once I got over the tacky décor and the terrible music, I just . . . talked to the people around me. I even danced a little. With men and women.”

A little sound bubbles up and out of my mouth, heat pressing behind my eyes. I’ve never heard my mother like this. Never heard excitement in her voice before. Not unless it was for show. The dazzle in her voice now is genuine. And we’re sharing this moment together. “That’s amazing, Mother. It was really brave of you.”

“Oh, pshh. Enough about me.” Clatters ping down the line, and I envision her removing bangles and earrings, setting them on her dresser. Charlie’s tongue slides up my neck, clenching muscles I thought were retired for the night. I can see in the window, his eyes are shut tight, as if he’s savoring the taste of me, though, and I’m prepared to lose as much sleep as necessary. But I do my best to focus on my mother as her upbeat flow of words continues in my ear. “I saw all these lovely people coupling up and thought, I hope my daughter can have that. Someone to come home to every night. Someone who will put her first and always be there.” She laughs. “Even if it’s just to listen to Adele and drink mediocre champagne.”

Charlie’s mouth stops moving. His eyes meet mine in the window, and I see devastation there. Just for a flash, but the impact is jarring, even if I’m uncertain what’s behind it. “I, um . . .”

“Ever, we’re so alike, you and I.” A creaking in the background, like bedsprings. “Maybe you could have gone on happily following the rules. Being the second most important thing in a man’s life, one month at a time. But I’m here to tell you, the happiness doesn’t last. You’ll slowly start to believe second place is where you belong.” Her sigh finds my ear, just as Charlie’s hands drop from my waist, his forehead landing in the crook of my neck. “I know it’s early, but . . . well, have you met anyone worth gossiping about? Give me something. I just want to know you’re trying and you weren’t . . . affected by my example, Ever.”

My breath catches when Charlie grinds his head into my neck, and I know he can hear every word of the conversation. What am I supposed to say? Yes, I met someone and fell in love, but I had to convince him to stay one single night? Isn’t that the opposite of what she wanted for me? “I . . . uh . . .” Charlie’s heat leaves me. With one last ravaged glance at me through the window, he turns his back and walks away. I’m left standing there, like a flag left out in the middle of a winter storm, rippling in turbulent gusts of wind. “I danced with some nice guys, Mother. Just like you.” Invisible bolts turn on either side of my windpipe. “It was good. I’m going to keep trying, and I’ve got that date with the fireman—”

“Right.” I can see her stilted nod. “As long as you’re trying. You did so much to encourage me, and I just want to do the same. I’ve never been very supportive, and I’m so sorry. You . . . you really have no idea.”

“It’s okay, Mother,” I manage. This is what I wanted. A reason to bond with my mother. Something to draw her interest and make her proud of me. It’s everything I hoped for, isn’t it? Yes. In a sense. We’re chatting on the phone and she’s apologizing to me, thanking me. I never actually thought it was possible. But I can’t shake the feeling I just sacrificed Charlie. Which is ridiculous, right?

I’ll know if you’re in trouble, won’t I? I’ll know and I’ll come get you. You’ll let me, won’t you? Didn’t those words imply he won’t be here with me, unless I needed him? God, part of me wants to cling to that promise and accept it, but it won’t be enough. I wouldn’t only be disappointing my mother, I would be letting myself down.

“I’m glad you had a good night.” I turn to see Charlie sitting on the edge of my bed, hands clasped between his legs. Staring at the floor. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Good night, Ever.”

I disconnect the call and set down my phone. The room is dead silent, except for the gentle hum of traffic passing by outside and Nina opening the door for the locksmith. When Charlie holds out a hand to me, I go forward and take it. He pulls me down into the mess of bedclothes, fitting my butt against his lap. I swear to God, I don’t hear him breathe once until we’re wrapped up tight, my head using his right bicep as a pillow, his opposite arm tucking me close. So close, my eyes burn. And then he breathes. Long, winded, agonized. Final.

Without saying a word, he’s just told me this is the first and last night he’ll be spending in my bed.





Charlie


I just ran eight miles. Now I’m sitting in the deserted locker room beneath shower spray, letting it run down my face, my body. The gurgle of the drain is all I hear, but at least it’s keeping me company. I appreciate the gurgle. It’s helping to distract from the sound of Ever’s apartment door clicking shut behind me when I left her Wednesday morning. She didn’t wake up to see me out or give me a goodbye kiss. Or maybe she was feigning sleep. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

We had an advanced gun safety demonstration today, and it ended four hours ago. I’d needed exertion, though. More than that. I needed to deplete every store of energy inside me, so I wouldn’t break down.

A humorless laugh leaves my mouth. I’m sitting on the nasty ass floor in the locker room and I have no idea how long I’ve been here. If this isn’t a breakdown, I have no idea what the fuck one looks like.

I miss her. I miss her. I miss her. I miss her.

My hands fly up, forming a vise around my head. Like they can squeeze out the misery of walking away from Ever. Permanently? Yeah. It has to be this way. Or we’re doomed to repeat the pattern set out in front of us. Lived by our parents. I won’t neglect her. I won’t let her be second place. She deserves the moon, the sun and stars. I could only give her late-night phone calls saying I’m going to be home late. Worry. Cancelled reservations. A cold side of the bed alongside her warm one. Anything less than one hundred percent focus on Ever and our relationship would be unacceptable. It’s all I have to offer, though. Less than she deserves.

So she’ll meet someone who recognizes he’s hit the motherfucking lottery. And that guy will give her mornings in bed, trips out of town . . . fuck. FUCK. Children? I don’t know. She’s so young, but I can’t imagine a man not begging to start a family with Ever. To see her reproduced in any way possible. I would have, wouldn’t I? Yeah . . . hell yeah. Once I got stationed and Hot Damn started expanding, I could see it. Ever pursing her lips, reading the notecards stuck on the tree I gave her, a little belly peeking out the bottom of her shirt.