Like saying Charlie is endgame wasn’t a big enough declaration of love, Troy.
I pass a hand over my face, giving my back to Brooke. “I have to find her. Do you need me to call you an Uber?”
“No, Troy. I can find my own way home. I’m not as hopeless as you think I am.” She walks around me and out of the bedroom with her chin raised high.
Fuck. This conversation could have gone a million times better.
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket, and seeing Charlie hasn’t texted me back, I call her. A second later, I hear her ringtone coming from nearby.
I whirl on the spot, noticing then that the light in the bathroom is on. When Charlie pushes the door open, holding her phone in her hand, I’m slammed by a wave of anger and disappointment.
“You’ve been there the whole time?” My question is rhetorical. Obviously, she didn’t fly into the bathroom through the window.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“Really? Could have fooled me. You had plenty of time to make yourself known. Why didn’t you, Charlie?” I raise my voice, expecting her to get riled up immediately. She’s a firecracker, after all. But instead, she winces and stares at me with guilt-ridden eyes.
“I don’t know. As soon as I heard you, I panicked and froze. Then she started spilling her guts out, and I had to see where it was going.”
“You mean, you had to find out what I would do,” I retort, still angry as hell, but at least I didn’t shout.
She nods, crossing her arms over her chest. I’ve never seen her so subdued and small. I’m filled with the impulse to engulf her into a hug and tell her everything will be fine, but I’m still riding on the anger. I don’t know what I resent the most, the fact that she felt the need to spy on me or that she overheard my heartfelt confession.
Fuck!
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. What I did was pretty shitty.”
“Yeah, it was.”
I catch a quiver of her lips, but she clamps her jaw tight, then lowers her gaze to her phone and begins to type.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Ordering an Uber. I don’t expect you to come home with me. You should stay and party with your friends.”
“The hell I’m going to let you go home alone,” I shout again, but this time, I’m frustrated with myself and I don’t know why.
“It’s fine, Troy.” She won’t meet my gaze.
Ah hell. I walk over and cave, bringing her close. “It’s not fine. We came together, and we’ll go home together.” I kiss her forehead before I step back, lacing my hand with hers. “Come on. We have to brave a sea of drunk people to get to the front door.”
CHARLIE
I’ve never felt more wretched in my entire life, not even when I accidentally set Blake’s five-hundred-dollar costume on fire two years ago. I knew eavesdropping on Troy’s conversation was wrong, but jealousy and insecurity clouded my judgment for a moment. I had to know what he would do upon hearing his ex’s confession. I had no idea he would say what he did in the end. And now I don’t know what I’m going to do with that information.
He said I’m endgame. How does he know? It hasn’t been that long since we were at each other’s throats. It’s too soon for him to be making those types of declarations—at least that’s what my mind is telling me. My heart, on the other hand, skipped a beat when he said that.
The ride back home is quiet. Troy is sitting as far away from me as possible. The distance feels like a chasm. We both thank the driver when he drops us off, but no words are exchanged between us as we walk side by side to the front door.
The urge to cry returns. I messed up royally, and my heart is now twisted in agony. I don’t want him to see me like this. I’m too full of pride for that, so as soon as he opens the door, I say good night and make a beeline for the stairs without looking back.
I’m two steps shy from it when Troy circles his free arm around my waist and pins my back to his chiseled chest. “Don’t go,” he whispers in my ear.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I melt against his body. I close my eyes for a second and allow myself to get lost in the feel of his arm keeping me in place, on the way his warm breath turns my already overheated skin into molten lava.
“I don’t want to go, but….”
He turns me around, keeping me trapped against him. “I didn’t mean to get so angry.”
“You had every right to. I broke your trust.”
“You didn’t break my trust, not exactly. You didn’t hide in that bathroom on purpose with the intent of spying on me.”
“No. It was a matter of too many beers and a too small bladder.”
He chuckles. “I can’t stay mad at you when you say stuff like that, babe.”
His eyes drop to my lips and stay there. He doesn’t make a move, maybe because he’s still gung ho on not losing the bet. I couldn’t care less about that anymore.
“You win,” I breathe.
He brings his eyes back to mine. “What?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Lack of sex has clearly addled his brain.
I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him hard and deep, leaving no room for doubt.
This is my surrender.
34
CHARLIE
Troy responds in kind, matching my passionate tempo stroke for stroke. I don’t know what to do with my hands; I want to touch him everywhere, but I also want him to touch me everywhere.
The arm in a sling is a hindrance. I reach behind his neck and open the clasp. His response is a deep groan that I can feel all the way down to my core. He makes quick use of both hands; they disappear underneath my skirt to grab my ass. I’d jump in his arms if it weren’t for his injured shoulder. I’m sure he could lift me, but I won’t be responsible for prolonging his recovery.
I hold his face between my hands and tilt my head to the side, trying to deepen the kiss. His tongue darts into my mouth, fiery, possessive, and then he does what I wanted him to do all along—he picks me up, lifting me off the floor. I wrap my legs around his hips, hooking them at the ankles and trying my best to be as light as a feather—if that’s even possible. I half expect Troy to bring me to the couch. He did say he was going to bend me over it and fuck me into oblivion. But instead, he veers for the stairs, going up two at a time.
Our mouths stay fused together, trying to compensate for all the days we denied ourselves the taste of the other. We did make out, but always with restraint, never with this mind-numbing abandon.
Troy takes me to his room, even though my bedroom is closer to the stairs. The door is semi shut, so he kicks it open with a bang before almost running across the room, aiming for his king-size bed.
He tries to break the kiss to put me down at the edge of the mattress, but I’m not having any of it. We fall together on the bed, and our limbs quickly twist together. We stay in that lovers’ embrace for a while, exploring each other with our tongues and hands. With each passing second, my body burns for him brighter, and the overwhelming yearning is agony, but the sweetest kind. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but eventually, he slides off me, keeping one leg firmly between mine.