Before You Go

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I met Charlie Yang during Joshua's first season of F1, the summer I turned seventeen.

I'd known of him long before then, of course. Through karting, then his F1 entry, and then eventually as the grid's biggest heartthrob-slash-party boy. The face of a century, the fans always said.

The rivalry on track was immediate between him and my brother. But off track they grew close, their competitiveness forming a brotherly bond. That particular summer, Charlie joined us at our family's vacation home for the break—our first collision.

We were photographed in town one morning, getting bread and fresh fruit for breakfast. The pictures had circulated wildly on the internet, tabloids buzzing at the possibility of the nineteen-year-old star being linked to racing legend Joohyun Park's daughter.

It was only a rumor, of course. That was all we ever were. But that was our beginning, the catalyst to our twined histories—weekends at the club, late nights on their apartment rooftops, summer trips to the villa. We were inseparable—all three of us—and then nothing at all.

Now, I could only look at this familiar stranger, and gulp down my wine, all words lost on me in my surprise. I'd been hugging the open bar since I'd arrived, but now I could recognize what a mistake that had been. I was tipsy, head in a bubble, and not quite as immune to the sight of Charlie in a suit as I would have liked to be.

He was handsome as ever, clean-shaven, cutting a perfect figure in his suit jacket, tie laid perfectly against his white button up. Leaning up against the bar counter, he tilted his head, eyes glinting under the low light as he said, "I like your dress."

"It's a gown. But thank you." My favorite one actually, silk and a deep plum violet, with a plunging open back and thin straps that didn't match the weather. It was probably the most beautiful thing I owned. I'd anticipated wearing it all week. Now, I just felt exposed, drunk and pinned under Charlie's brown-eyed stare like a specimen. "What are you doing here?"

A soft smile darted across his features. "At the bar?"

"No," I replied, slowly, like he was stupid. "What are you doing here, at this event?"

"Ethan Kim invited me. Husband of the host." He jutted his chin in the direction of my traitorous best friend and her husband. "I've been playing squash with him in the mornings."

I forced a smile. "So I've heard."

"I see. And am I often a topic of conversation?"

"No. Yeona just said you're not very good."

"Miserable, really. Then again, it's not my sport." He reached past me to flag down the bartender. "Want another drink?"

Finishing off my wine, I shook my head. "I'm good. Go throw some money at one of the fundraising ladies over there or something."

"I don't want to talk to them." He said it plainly, even though it was rude, and the bartender totally heard him, casting a quick look in his direction as he slid a glass of whiskey across the counter. "Besides, I already wrote a check."

"Of course you did."

I needed to walk away. Needed to keep myself on the Charlie Yang in the rearview track I'd put myself on. But my feet didn't move. Wouldn't. I was stuck, growing ever closer to being dragged into his undertow. The excess wine on an empty stomach wasn't helping either, the constant thought of Charlie-is-so-handsome-like-sooooo-handsome running through my mind in one brainless loop.

"You're staring." Charlie's voice cut through my inner dialogue. Matter of fact. Annoying. At least he wasn't smiling. He brought his glass to his lips and took a long drink, brown eyes on me the entire time. "If you have something to say, just spit it out."