Chapter 11
1110 Words
When it was almost dark out, Charlie locked up the coffee shop and smiled to herself.
The day had started heavy—one of those mornings where the air felt thick in her lungs and everything took more effort than it should.
But somewhere between the morning rush and the quiet lull before closing, that weight had eased.
Thanks to him.
She flicked off the last light, the shop settling into silence behind her. Rowan’s presence lingered the way warmth did after the sun dipped below the horizon—gone, but not forgotten. She could still hear his voice, calm and steady, still see the way he’d looked at her like the world slowed when she spoke.
Ridiculous, she told herself, locking the door and giving the handle a firm tug. She barely knew him.
And yet.
Charlie pulled on her jacket and stepped outside, the sky bruised purple and gold above the street. The air was cooler now, carrying the promise of night. She inhaled deeply, feeling lighter than she had all day, and started toward her car.
She didn’t notice the way the shadows at the far end of the street shifted.
Didn’t catch the faint, unfamiliar scent riding the breeze.
And she certainly didn’t see the pair of golden eyes watching from the darkness—patient, assessing—as Charlie walked away, unaware that the heaviness she’d shaken off was already finding its way back to her.
When she got out of the shower, her hair still wet and a towel wrapped loosely around her shoulders, Charlie padded into the bedroom. Steam clung to her skin, the mirror fogged over, the world reduced to soft edges and quiet.
Her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen and laughed.
Mia — FaceTime.
“Uh-oh,” Charlie murmured, answering before the third ring.
Mia’s face filled the screen immediately, eyes bright, grin wide, practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay. No. Stop. I need to know.”
Charlie tilted the phone, grabbing her brush. “Know what?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Mia said, gasping theatrically. “Rowan. Tall, broody, dangerously handsome Rowan. The one who looked like he stepped out of a sinfully intense novel.”
Charlie snorted, dragging the brush through her damp hair. “You saw him for, what, ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes was enough,” Mia shot back. “The man has presence. And don’t think I didn’t notice the way he looked at you.”
Charlie felt heat bloom in her cheeks. “He looked at me like a normal human being.”
Mia leaned closer to the camera. “Incorrect. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room.”
Charlie turned away, pretending to focus very hard on a stubborn knot. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, I absolutely am not,” Mia said smugly. “So. Tell me everything. Where is he from? Is he single? Does he brood by windows? Please say yes.”
Charlie laughed despite herself. “I don’t know. He didn’t exactly fill out a résumé.”
Mia gasped. “Tragic.”
There was a brief pause, then Mia’s grin softened, her voice dropping just a touch. “But seriously… you seemed lighter when you were sat with him.”
Charlie stilled.
“Did I?”
Mia nodded. “Yeah. Happier. I haven’t seen that look on your face in a while.”
Charlie swallowed, her gaze drifting to the darkened window. “He was just… nice,” she said quietly. “Steady. Like things weren’t so overwhelming when he was there.”
Mia’s smile turned knowing. “Uh-huh. That’s how it starts.”
Charlie shook her head, smiling faintly. “You’re impossible.”
Mia’s expression shifted suddenly, excitement giving way to something sharper. “Also,” she added, lowering her voice, “can we talk about you absolutely bodying Adrian at the coffee shop?”
Charlie groaned. “Mia—”
“No,” Mia cut in, grinning. “You didn’t flinch. You didn’t apologise. You looked him dead in the eye and shut him down like he had no power over anything anymore.”
“Mia,” Charlie said firmly, cutting in before she could continue, “he treats you like s**t. He’s a royal dickhead in tight pants, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Mia rolled her eyes, lips twitching despite herself. “Fine,” she relented, sighing dramatically. “He’s awful. Truly. A walking red flag.”
Then she smirked. “But… he does have an amazing —”
Charlie groaned.
“—head,” Mia finished sweetly. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Mostly.”
Charlie sighed. “You deserve better.” Charlie shook her head, laughing despite herself. “You are impossible.”
“And yet,” Mia said, settling back against her pillows, “you love me.
“Unfortunately,” Charlie replied, wrapping her towel tighter and flopping onto the edge of the bed. “I just don’t understand how you can acknowledge he’s awful and still… tolerate him.”
Mia’s smile softened, bravado slipping. “It’s not tolerance. It’s habit. And habit is a bastard to break.”
Charlie sighed. “You deserve better.”
“I know,” Mia said quietly. Then, brightening again as if the moment hadn’t happened, she wagged a finger at the screen. “Which brings us right back to Rowan. Because that man? That man looks like the kind of better that ruins your life in the best way.”
Charlie snorted. “You’ve decided this based on vibes.”
“Impeccable vibes,” Mia corrected. “Protective. Calm. Murderously handsome. And did you notice how the room shifted when he walked in?”
Charlie hesitated, then smiled despite herself. “I noticed.”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh. That’s it. You’re doomed.”
“Goodnight, Mia.”
“Sweet dreams,” Mia sang. “Try not to dream about broad shoulders and broody eyes.”
Charlie ended the call, but as she set the phone down, her thoughts drifted—not to Adrian, not to the day’s stress—but to Rowan’s quiet smile, his steady presence.
And somewhere far beyond the safety of her apartment, an Alpha lifted his head, the bond tugging softly in his chest.
Charlie grabbed her sleeping shirt, her smile lingering long after the screen went dark—completely unaware that Rowan was already fighting tooth and claw to make sure he did come back.
While Charlie slept—peaceful and deep, curled beneath warm blankets with the steady rhythm of a dreamless night—Rowan ran.
- Writer
