Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

ME:

Tomorrow is great. I’m going to be at the office until around two o’clock for a meeting, but I’ll be home before three for sure. I can come by your place, and we can go from there? I’ll text when I’m on my way.

I read the text back twice before hitting send. Her response is immediate, as usual.

CHARLIE:

Great.

See you then.

All right, then.

16/

what is this feeling?

charlie

My confidence was high, until I reached the main door of the apartment building. My heart nearly skipped out of my chest when I spotted him leaning on a palm tree. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black Henley, his hair disheveled in a way that makes me think he either spent a lot of time styling it, or he lets his curls do whatever they want. I think it’s the latter.

It surprises me to see he’s not on his phone, either scrolling aimlessly, texting someone, or whatever people do when they’re out in public and need to busy themselves with something other than simply existing in the world. He’s just standing there, looking out at the road as traffic rolls past. He looks up at the palm trees swaying in the wind and smiles. He actually bloody smiles! At the bloody trees! When he looks down and spots me, the smile remains, and I fight twin urges to either keep my expression at whatever it currently is, which is probably my resting bitch face, or smile back at him because that’s what I’ve learned you’re supposed to do.

I get it; I’m not a naturally chipper person like specimen A in front of me. But telling me to smile is like telling someone having an emotional breakdown to calm down. It’s not going to work.

I let my face do whatever it wants and walk toward him. His smile actually widens as he pushes off the tree trunk. This man gives out smiles freely, constantly. I don’t understand him. It must be exhausting.

“Hey there, strawberry shortcake. How was your day?” Rafael is so naturally friendly. It would be annoying if it weren’t slightly endearing. The nicknames, however, I find mostly annoying. This one is brand new, though, and I think I might like it.

Wait, what?

“Um, fine, thanks.” I should ask him how his day was, too. It’s not that I’m not interested in how his day was; I just find small talk and pleasantries so laborious. “How was yours?”

“Great. Better now that I’m not in a budget meeting that most definitely could have been an email.” He grimaces after he finishes. “Ugh. Sorry. That wasn’t very nice. The meeting wasn’t even that bad. But the coffee was, which means I haven’t had my afternoon coffee yet, and maybe it’s making me a little grumpy.”

“Ha!” I cover up my mouth at my sudden outburst. Rafael watches me with widened eyes, and I clear my throat to recover. “Sorry, it’s just that if this is you grumpy, I’m scared to know what you look like when you’re blissfully happy. You’re like the human version of Olaf, only with really good hair and muscles everywhere. I mean, blimey, you were just smiling at trees like you’re a literal Disney character.” I point to where he was looking earlier, but my gaze quickly jumps back to his face as his laughter booms out of him. I’ve heard Rafael laugh countless times. It comes as naturally to him as smiling, which is as natural to him as blinking. I don’t even think he knows he’s doing it.

But I’ve just made him laugh. Really laugh. Without even trying. So much so, he’s clutching his chest and bending at the waist.

“You got jokes, Chuck!” He lets out another small chuckle as if what I said is still affecting him. “Olaf, that’s a good one.” With a final shake of his head, he stops laughing and sets his eyes on me. “Wanna walk to Smitty’s and grab a coffee with me? They have all kinds of iced coffee. My treat.”

“Yeah. Sure.” My stomach feels tight, almost like the feeling you get when you’re starting to get hungry, but I just ate, so that’s not it. Must be the mention of iced coffee, a detail about me that Rafael has picked up on with our time together over the years. Hot coffee isn’t my thing. I never get to drink it at the temperature it’s supposed to be, and there’s a massive difference between drinking cold coffee, which was meant to be hot, and iced coffee. Once I discovered iced coffee, my relationship with the drink went to the next level. We’re besties now.

Rafael starts to walk in the direction of this unknown-to-me coffee place, and I notice that he slows to match my pace. I don’t like walking fast unless I absolutely have to.

“So, why don’t you tell me a little more about what you need my help with?” Rafael’s gaze remains on the sidewalk ahead of us as he speaks.

“All right. Well, I write romance. I know that may be surprising for someone who has a hard time understanding emotions, but it’s different when I’m making the characters up.” I pause and notice that he tips his face toward me, but only for a second.

“That makes sense, though. You’re in control,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. Exactly.” I watch him nod as he looks around us. “Anyway, lately, it doesn’t feel like I have control of the characters anymore. I actually don’t feel like I have any control over myself, either, and that’s terrifying.” I catch the movement of his head in my peripheral a few times as he glances at me, but it never lasts long. I like this. Just like with texting, there’s no pressure on me to make eye contact, and I don’t feel like I’m being watched.

“My therapist warned me that shutting myself off from the world wouldn’t be helpful, but that it’s also okay to need time alone. She said I need to make sure I have my safe people, the ones I don’t need to mask with. The problem is that those people are Maeve and Elaina, which isn’t great when I live in London, and they live here.” I pause as Rafael looks thoughtful. I assume it’s thoughtful because I’ve seen him look like this—brows furrowed and mouth pulled to the left side of his face—whenever he plays board games with the guys and he’s figuring out his next move.

“There’s no one in London?” He does look at me a little longer then, the question hanging between us.

“Um, there is… someone. The other reason I’ve recently decided that I need to get a better hold on my life and my feelings. Robert and I have known one another for years, and though we had been in an open relationship, it was much more open on his side, if you know what I mean.” I widen my eyes, though he can’t see me. It’s slightly awkward to discuss my relationship status. I chance a look at him, and note the tightness in his jaw, the way his lips are set in a thin line. A brand-new expression I’m not sure how to translate.