Aimee Laine - Little White Lies

Lily’s bright eyes filled with sweet deviance. “You guys want to watch a movie?”

Charley smiled into the cup she held between her palms.

Stuart’s eyes lit like Lily’s. “You got action for that sixty-inch out there?”

“Oh, yeah.” Cael laid one hand on the back of Lily’s chair. “And the subwoofer’s bass shakes the entire house.”

“Sweet!”

All four boys loaded their palms with sugary goodies.

Charley moved with Lily to clean up. Wyatt and Stuart followed Cael, James close behind. Charley caught James’s gaze before he turned the corner.

“Be careful.” His whispered words reached her with ease.

The warning came not from over protectiveness.

“It’s not my birthday today… Jack. I can do whatever I want.” She smirked as he disappeared.

In a teen’s body, Charley would have to deal with all its hormonal nuances. When she’d been in the same position before, at midnight on her birthday, her lack of control around Wyatt left her vulnerable.

The boys flipped through movie channels and their own collection while Charley and Lily cleaned up. The repetitive wash, dry and organize process gave Charley a moment to breath and to think.

“I’m so sorry, Char-Mira. Do you think he noticed?”

“No. He’s hung up on me leaving. The fact you almost blurted out my birthday is inconsequential.” Charley rolled her eyes, bumping her hip with Lily’s. “Don’t worry about it.”

“’K. Going to take him up to the balcony?” Rag in hand, Lily circled the last of the plates and stacked them in the cabinet.

“Yeah.” Charley’s mind wandered to all manner of possible scenarios, though she’d vowed to let Wyatt lead her. For once in her life, she liked being at someone else’s mercy.

Lily turned with bowl in hand. “I don’t know how they eat it all, but I’ll keep ’em full. You have fun. Popcorn!” She disappeared into the living room.

Charley circled back through the dining room, into the foyer and back to the living room’s other door. Wyatt sat, relaxed but apart from the group as if in wait for her. James and Cael sprawled, their legs stretched and crossed with Lily between Cael and Stuart.

“Psssst!” Charley cupped her hands over her mouth. Stuart might not hear her, but the rest would.

Wyatt turned, grinned.

Charley flicked her head back as if to say ‘come on!’

He twisted to Stuart, whose gaze stayed fixed on the screen. Without a word, he rose from his chair, moved in Charley’s direction, and the rest of the group gave no sign they’d heard.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” Her smile grew wide.

Charley grabbed his hand, tugged him up with her. They scurried up the stairs two steps at a time.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Wyatt slowed on the second floor, where art adorned cloud-grey walls. “These are amazing.” He shifted from one side to the other, tracing air again in line with the many silhouettes framed in solid black.

Each of her family members had a gift-Lily in the kitchen, Charley in oils, Cael in watercolors and James with wood.

“They have so many… it’s like an art gallery in here.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool.” Charley pulled him forward.

Ten pieces of art and nearly twenty feet later, they reached her door. Hand on the knob, she hesitated, blew out a breath and pushed it open.

Wyatt followed.

Across the room, glass doors stood open to her balcony. Long sheaths of translucent white fabric draped across a wrought-iron rod and blew in the breeze. A duvet of sky blue covered the bed, bunched at the edges where the four-poster, walnut frame reached to the ceiling. Art adorned ivory walls, the design broken only by companion dressers and an antique desk Charley had owned since childhood.

They walked past it all and stepped into the night. Stars twinkled above the tree branch buds; night birds sang their evening lullabies.

Charley’s arms snaked around the back of Wyatt’s neck. His wrapped around her waist as they pulled themselves toward each other.

She hesitated with the realization she’d started their activity. Wyatt held her tight when she tried to pull away.

“It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful,” he said.

Charley smiled. “It is.”

The sounds of the night engulfed them: bullfrogs croaked, crickets buzzed, and the breeze shivered through brush.

He slid his cheek against hers. “Are you sure you have to go back?”

“No. I can stay up here.” She misinterpreted on purpose.

Wyatt laid his forehead against hers. “I mean back to New Zealand.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” Charley pressed against him, swayed to one side and back.

In time with her, his body shifted side to side.

“Practicing?”

“Sure.” She touched her cheek to his shoulder. They moved in silence, lost in an unheard love-song.

“Can you stay?” His voice infused sweetness, but Charley heard desperation.

Yes. “No.”

Wyatt pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. She wanted back in, having lost the warmth from his body. More than that, he’d torn her from the only memories she wanted to keep.

“Why not? Can’t you get a visa or something? A green card?”

“I have a visa. But I have family to return to.” She tried to keep her answer simple and truthful, but she shook with a chill as she anticipated his response.

“What about me?”

What about me? What Wyatt didn’t know, the promise she’d made, it all fell to the moment before her-a time and choice she’d hoped she’d never face.

Charley stared back at him, though her resolve wavered. “We’re friends, Wyatt. We can always stay friends, but my time here was never meant to be permanent.”

“Friends?” He spat the words. “Just friends?” He dropped his arms, and Charley shivered.

She knew he’d see, wondered what he’d do. “More, I think, but you’re young. I’m-young.” She laid her hand over her heart. “Can’t we just enjoy our time together?”

Wyatt pulled her back to him, crushing her against his chest.

Oh thank god! She wanted to cry out but bit her tongue.

“I don’t want to just enjoy it.” Into her hair, his fingers reached through curls she’d left down. His hands moved forward so he held her face in them. She reached back around his neck.

Wyatt drew closer. His sigh blended with hers. “I don’t want to.” His palms held firm against her cheeks, but the softness returned.

She agreed with him, didn’t want their time together to end, either, but her promise would not be broken.

Charley closed her eyes, committing the moment to her mind-his touch, his cologne, the blue of his shirt, how she fit in his arms. Their closeness would be only a memory in a matter of days.

She met his gaze with absolute clarity. She would not make her choice permanent until Wyatt could accept the truth about her.

He drew a quick breath before he tugged and drew her face up to his, tilted his head in the opposite and pressed his lips to hers.

Charley pushed the kiss forward, separated and let her tongue slide against his.

Wyatt reached through curls as Charley fumbled, grasping at his back. Their tongues continued to tease each other. He shifted. She reached-their movements choreographed-as natural as if they’d been together forever.

Breathless, they slowed, connected, enraptured by emotion, their expressions the same.

“I love you,” Wyatt said.

Lips crushed against each other as Charley let herself go.

Goodbye will be impossible.

The weekend beckoned, but Friday had come too soon. Only one day remained before the dance and before his favorite girl would leave. The silver and black of their most fashionable tuxes would be donned, flowers pinned, dates on their arms-a night of bliss lay ahead. Wyatt smiled to himself as he thought through his plans.