Stella and the Boxer

Chapter 15

The eggs pop and crack in the hot oil as I move the spatula about the pan.

“Do you want jam on your toast? Or do you prefer only butter?”

“I’ll have jam. Whatever kind you’re having,” I tell Charlie, glancing over my shoulder. He has his back to me, and I can tell that he’s carefully spreading butter and jam on the toast.

It’s amusing sometimes, watching Charlie do simple things, because he is so particular. His strong stature and large hands work slowly and cautiously, paying extra mind to every detail. It is yet another reason why I hate to think of him fighting people so often. I’ve seen him protect me already, I know that he would fight on another’s behalf, but I can’t imagine him hurting someone else just for the sake of a win. It’s still very confusing to me.

What’s worse is thinking about someone trying to hurt him.

We sit at the kitchen bar, our stools extra close to one another. He keeps his free hand on my knee while we eat. We finish quickly, having to rush a bit so that I’m not late to the café. I take Charlie’s plate when he’s finished, insisting that I clean up.

“Do you have enough clothes here for tonight? Are you planning to pack today or tomorrow for the weekend?” He asks, heading towards the back door to let Cooper inside.

“I’ll have to go back to my room after class tomorrow and change for work, so I’ll pack then.”

I hear Cooper trotting into the kitchen, and Charlie follows behind.

“I can take you to work tomorrow, too, and then just pick you up when you’re done. That way you don’t have to worry about your car and we can just leave from there.”

I agree, and dry my hands on the red and white-checkered dishtowel near the sink. Then, I grab what things I’ve decided that I need for the day: two notebooks and a pen, my sunglasses, my phone, all of which are already waiting for me on the edge of the bar, and follow Charlie into the garage.

We are almost to the café, and Charlie tells me that he will pick me up and take me to campus. I feel bad for the amount that he chauffeurs me.

“I’m just going to train now, while you’re here, which means I won’t be able to come in for oatmeal, and to stare at you.” I look over at him, giggling a bit and he grins towards the road ahead. I imagine that his dark eyes look amused from under his black shades.

“When will you go for your run then? I shouldn’t determine your schedule. I can just walk to campus, it’s no big deal.”

“Stella,” He parks in front of Lighthouse, “I’m not going to have you walk alone when I can easily drive you. I’ll just go for a run while you’re in class. My schedule is flexible and it changes all the time.”

I lean over and kiss Charlie’s perfect lips.

“I’ll see you later, then,” I say, smiling, and tucking my bottom lip between my teeth.

“See you soon, baby. Have a nice day.”

And my day is nice. Allie and I clear everything about Sunday with Mr. Miller, and he is okay with her taking my shift. We have a fairly busy morning at the café, so Allie and I don’t get to talk much, but my shift goes by very quickly. I buy Charlie and I lunch from the café, and we eat it in his car outside of my class in the short time that we have. Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way,” plays from his car stereo, and we argue over which album we think is their best. Charlie offers that some of their earlier albums are his favorite, while I speak in defense of Rumors.