Play It Again, Charlie (41 page)

“And why were the birds attacking again?” If his hip hadn't been okay, he wouldn't have agreed to Will's suggestion of taking the train so they wouldn't have to drive.

“Does it matter?” Will grinned. “Tippi looked amazing. It's such a shame about
Marnie
.” Charlie decided not to ask. Will told him anyway, muttering something about Connery being a creeper and Tippi's
knees
, and honestly, Charlie had no idea what Will was talking about, but he couldn't bring himself to comment.

He just looked at Will until he realized he was smiling too, and that probably seemed odd considering he'd just watched people getting pecked to death by birds. He'd known that Will loved movies, but his enthusiasm was infectious.

He hadn't even been sure Will would want to see it with him. It wasn't exactly a wild and crazy activity for a Friday night.

“What?” Will froze with his hand in the air, ignoring the people who jostled around them when he stopped. “I don't know that Charlie face, though I think I like it.”

“I... .” The peace between them while the movie had played had been different than in the car last night, and Charlie didn't want to call that back. Not right now. “I'm glad you're having fun,” he finished. “Movie geek.”

Will gasped. It could have been outrage, except that he made a little laughing sound in the middle of it. He'd probably never been accused of being a geek before. Will
was
a geek. Charlie's smile got wider.

“How dare you?” Will skimmed his hand over Charlie's chest and then let it fall to the side. When they started moving again and their hands touched, Charlie didn't think it was an accident. Will glanced at him when it happened, oh so carefully. “You really think I... I mean, I know things about movies you've never read in all your books.” Will's chin came up, then he paused, suddenly uncertain. “You liked it, though, right? How have you never seen
The Birds
before? Next you're going to tell me you've never seen
Rope
!”

“I've never seen
Rope
,” Charlie told him truthfully, and at the responding, totally unbelievable gasp, he felt his mouth quirk up. Will, of course, wasn't about to let that go.

“Well, I suppose I'll have to work on your education, Professor.” Will gave him a sideways flirty look. He wasn't wearing any eye makeup, but his eyes sparkled.

“You like to call me that,” Charlie responded dryly, then he felt stupidly pleased when Will's smile got bigger.

“Oh yeah.” He was expecting some sort of naughty teacher joke, but Will's smile slipped, and for a moment he was frowning straight ahead.

They were almost at the station. Will stopped abruptly, his lower lip out. “You know, it's early.” He wrinkled his nose, then swooped in until they were much, much closer. Charlie had a hard time looking away, but noted everyone around them before he looked back at Will. Will was serious. “You want to... . My friend's bar is near here. Do you want to stop by? Just to say hi,” he added when Charlie didn't say anything. “No fighting couples this time.” He crossed his heart.

“You want me to meet your friends?” They'd been through this last night, though Charlie hadn't actually
met
anyone. Will was staring at him, his fingers tapping across Charlie's stomach, over churning soda and popcorn.

When Charlie finally, slowly nodded, Will bounced into motion, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. He turned to head in another direction entirely, moving quickly as though he was afraid Charlie would change his mind.

“Your friend owns a bar?” Charlie tried, wondering how he looked as Will led him through the evening crowd, down side streets, past a lot of stores that smelled like incense and a lot of people that smelled like something that Charlie seriously doubted all of them needed for medical reasons.

“No, she just works there.” Will didn't let go, not even the few times when he should have to go around poles. Charlie was about to ask him to stop, or to go slower, or maybe insist on him taking a moment to calm down, but then Will stopped in front of a small box of a place, squeezed in between what looked like a take-out restaurant and a closed bookstore.

It had to be a local place, because other than a neon sign shaped like a smiling full moon, there was no name.

It was darker inside, of course, with wooden floors and rows of tables and chairs scattered around. It was busy, especially at the long, antique-looking bar along one wall. Straight ahead, he could just see a pool table, and beyond that a few doors.

Will paused, glanced back at him, and then sucked in a breath before pushing through the people by the bar and claiming a stool next to a large man who was reading a book. Will immediately turned back around. His hand slipped from Charlie's.

“You know what? Actually, we could just,” he started, his eyes wide, and the large man lifted his head. Will turned toward him with a bright, bright smile. Charlie looked at him too, at the gray hair in his heavy beard and at his temples, at his tie-dye shirt, and at the glasses with the tiny reading light attached to them that the man switched off. “Charlie, this is Buffalo.”

“Or Bill, if you prefer,” Buffalo amended, shaking Charlie's hand.

“Dani's behind the bar.” Will was gesticulating in all directions. “Busy in here. What's up with you? Not
another
history book? Charlie and I just saw
The Birds
. Have you ever— ?”

“Will,” Charlie interrupted when Will's voice started to rise, then he felt his face heat when Buffalo looked at him. But Will took a breath.

“You want me to get you a drink, Charlie? You're not driving,” he added quickly. “I'll have to go get Dani's attention, but I can get you a— ” He glanced over at his friend, regretful or embarrassed, and then pressed on in a tone that was almost defensive. “A beer? You like beer.”

“A beer is fine, Will.” His blush wasn't fading. Buffalo was still considering him, and Will was fluttering. Too nervous and then too bold, shooting Charlie a look Charlie thought was meant to be sexy as he went on about how he was only too happy to get Charlie a drink and how he'd be right back. Then he was gone.

Charlie reached out after him, slightly alarmed at how anxious Will seemed when this had been his idea, and then pulled his hand back to stare back at Buffalo.

“I'm Charlie,” he said unnecessarily, but Will hadn't. “Howard.”

“I know. You've been mentioned.” Buffalo had a trace of a British accent. He closed his book without marking the page. Charlie did not look around again for Will, though he did glance at the bartender, a tall woman with cropped hair and ink on most of her visible skin. “I know a lot about you, mate.”

Will would not have approved of the frown on his face. But then Will shouldn't have dragged him to a bar and then left him alone.

He could hear Will, even over the noise of the bar. “Dani,
darling,
y
ou beguiling creature
!”

“He... .” Stuttering was not the way to do this. Most of Mark's friends had been colleagues, so this hadn't been an issue.

He kept his frown in place and sat on the available stool. He turned his head, finally found Will; he was whispering something into the bartender's ear. She turned to look at Charlie. “Something's bothering him,” Charlie said quietly. It seemed nicer than announcing that Will was nervous or asking why the hell Will had brought him here if he was upset. He thought about pulling Will away from the crowd and how he might calm him down, then felt foolish when the bartender grinned.

She was laughing, probably at Charlie, because she was still watching him. He turned back to Buffalo and tried not to seem worried, or obviously angry, or as confused as he was. “This bar isn't what I expected.”

“It's only busy because it's Friday. On weeknights it's mellow. Maybe William forgot, in his haste to... .” Bill— Buffalo— studied him pointedly. “He
has
been a bit distracted of late.” Buffalo took a sip of something clear and bubbly. He seemed at ease, but Charlie figured he was about to get grilled, anyway. Will had brought him here for a reason. He waited, not calm at all, either, and Buffalo lifted an eyebrow. “William needs mellow, sometimes.”

Charlie's gaze traveled back to Will despite himself. He was in conversation with someone else, though his eyes came up and for a moment he seemed surprised to have Charlie looking at him. He flashed a smile that was too fast to be warm and shrugged, as though the conversation was boring but there was no way out of it.

“Will takes his friendships very seriously.” Perhaps too seriously on those occasions when he wasn't allowed to rest or go home, but then, Charlie knew enough to know why Will's friends meant so much to him, if his family truly was just his sister. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then tried a small smile. “I'm glad he has friends who care.” Or who weren't as reckless as Chris.

He had no idea if Buffalo had heard him. He didn't turn back to the other man until he heard a cough. The bartender, Dani, set a glass of beer in front of him.

“Happy birthday,” Charlie offered politely. He was a few days late, a week, in fact. It had been one day shy of a week since... . He cleared his throat. Her grin gentled by the smallest fraction.

“Thanks, Sergeant,” she tossed back at him, winking at Buffalo before heading down the bar. Charlie closed his eyes, then opened them to take a long drink of his beer. Alcohol would explain any red in his cheeks. He didn't want to know what Will had told his friends about him.

“It's really not that bad,” Buffalo assured him, apparently a mind reader, and Charlie shot him a glare before he could think better of it.

“Then how bad is it?” Only when Will was involved was he this sarcastic. But then, only when Will was involved did his stomach tie itself in knots like this at the thought of a misstep. He took another sip of beer. Will was innocently chatting away, and Charlie was being snippy with his friends.

He resolutely turned to Bill. “Are you interested in history?” The book's title said it was about disease through the ages. Charlie decided not to ask why the man was reading it in a bar. Since without Will around, Charlie's Friday would have consisted of e-mail and maybe a movie at home, he had no right to judge.

“I trade and rate used books online.” Buffalo took another drink. “This one isn't bad.” His tone was light and careful. It reminded Charlie enough of Jeanine that he focused on the rest. “Will said you were a reader.”

He said it too casually, probably trying to gauge what Will had meant by that, or maybe just Charlie's taste in reading material. Charlie resisted the urge to look at Will.

“He said that?” Charlie had felt this foolish before in his life, many times. It didn't make it more bearable now. He sounded so insecure he could almost
hear
Mark's embarrassed silence.

“Smart, he said.” Buffalo adjusted his glasses. He
had
to be Jeanine's British hippie cousin. Nobody was that casual.

Charlie wanted to know what else Will had said with the kind of driving curiosity that was going to keep him up tonight. “Reader” probably meant boring. It was faintly possible this was all Will's way of getting him out. Charlie looked at Buffalo, then let himself glance over at Will again.

Will was watching him. He ducked his head when he saw that Charlie had noticed and smiled at whoever was talking to him, a redhead who was touching his arm.

“I'd rather not talk about Will.” The blunt words made even his ears feel warm. “Just the facts,” Will had called it when Charlie spoke this way, before telling him how sexy he thought it was. The memory didn't help with his embarrassment or the rush of irritation at Will for leaving him like this, whatever his reasons. But he shook his head and faced the other man, blush or no blush.

“Any other books you can recommend?” He changed the subject easily. “I've been reading more and more nonfiction lately.” Well, he had been, before his nights had been otherwise occupied. He had to clear his throat again and raise his voice to be heard.

“Oh yeah.” Buffalo didn't comment on Will, or Charlie's manners. “There's some good historicals. I just read one about the Marshals Service if you want something about law enforcement.”

Charlie kept his face blank, though in the back of his mind he imagined Will telling all his friends about him.

He shook off the thought for the moment and pulled out his phone to note the address. “You trade online?”

“Exchanging phone numbers already?” Will appeared like magic. Charlie gave Will a startled look, then quickly turned to finish his beer in a few gulps. When he put down the glass, Will's eyes were wide. “Charlie!” he breathed out, evidently amazed until Charlie stared blandly back at him. One beer was nothing; holidays with his family sometimes meant sipping tequila and drinking beer from noon until midnight. Of course, on holidays he drank slowly and ate a lot of food to soak up all the liquor, instead of downing an entire beer in seconds on just popcorn for dinner, but he was sure he could handle it.

Will went from surprised to amused. He leaned forward for half a second like he was drawn toward Charlie's lap before biting his lip and glancing at Buffalo. Then he straightened, and Charlie used that moment put his phone away, to remember to blink. “So,” Will added a moment later, tearing his gaze from Charlie. “You guys getting along?”

Buffalo had the book in his hands, and Will's attention went there. His mouth shaped an unsurprised little “oh.” “Talking
literature
and all that?” The slight English accent must have been for Buffalo's benefit. He reached out, grabbed the book, and exclaimed, “But it's so
big
!” in a breathless voice, and then he handed it back. Buffalo told him to shut up and was ignored.

“You should see Charlie's apartment. Wall to wall books.” Will nodded seriously, then scratched at the back of his neck. His hands went into his back pockets, then came out. “I think I need a drink too. I'm going to go get one, and you two can talk about professorish things and— ”

“Will.” Charlie was starting to get it. Will hopped, gave him a look that was all restless energy and anxiety. The anxiety only got stronger when Charlie frowned and reached out to him. Will waved away his hand.