67. CHARLOTTE
67
“ S o you and Ben are on a break?” Julie’s arm is curled around mine as we trot down the street. The fall has barely set in, and a soft breeze rustles through the trees that are standing firm and opulent on Main Street as we head toward the local bookstore.
“Well, I don’t know about that. But I did tell him that I needed a break.”
“And then you went bowling with Hunter.” There’s a bit of ridicule in her voice.
“Yes. Oh my god, I’m such a harlot.” Actually saying it out loud, I realize how ridiculous it sounds. But the weird thing is, even though I should feel embarrassed about hanging out with a man that isn’t my boyfriend, I don’t. It feels completely normal to go bowling on a midweek afternoon with Hunter. Which is a clear red flag that I’m in some serious danger.
SOS.
“Did you sleep with Hunter?”
“What? No!” I hold back the fact that my vagina was practically begging me to cross that line too, but we kept it all PG-13.
“Kiss him?”
“No.” I wish. Shut up, Charlotte.
“Then you're not a harlot,” she states matter-of-factly, something I’ll happily agree with. I was just reliving old memories with an old friend, right? Nothing bad about that .
“Still can’t believe you spent 50k on his credit card.”
I lick my lower lip with mischief etching through. “I thought he was gonna cancel it and yell at me.” I was planning on it. I wanted to fight with him, just to have a reason to shout in his face about all things petty. Is it childish? For sure. Do I care? Nope. I’ve been the good girl for years, so I just wanted to be the bad girl for once. Spending fifty thousand on Hunter’s credit card sounds like my kinda bad way more than pole dancing in the strip club two towns over.
“ Puh-lease ,” Julie scoffs, “at this point, you can buy a million-dollar mansion and he’d still be worshiping the ground you walk on. Remember, he’s here for you .”
“We’re friends, Jules.” I wonder how long I can keep saying that until I start growing two heads. One that tells the truth, and one that is all too good at lying.
“He’s not here to be your friend, Charlie.”
I shake my head, our hips moving in unison with each step, the bookstore in sight.
“Change of subject. Are you coming for fun, or do you actually want to buy something?”
“I want to buy that book about Ikigai.”
I give my best friend a side-eye. “What is that, Thai food? A Chinese game? A new dating method from Europe?”
A grunt rolls over her taut lips. “I wish. Find me some Italian men.”
“You like blond men.”
“Not true.”
“All your boyfriends have had blond hair,” I deadpan, while her eyes move to the sky to think it over.
“That’s not— damnit ,” she mutters when she realizes I’m right. “Anyway, it’s your reason to get out of bed.”
“Cryptic, but okay. ”
“It’s the one thing you’re good at, have passion for, and you can actually make money with. It’s Japanese. We should all find it to truly be happy in what we do.”
“Sounds complex.” I just want to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with the weird feelings that are bubbling up ever since a certain person strolled his ass back into town.
Julie shakes her head with her eyes rolling to her lashes, as she opens the door of the bookstore, and the bell rings above our heads. “It’s not, I’ll show y—”
“Hunt,” I cut her off, holding still in the doorpost before I take the final steps inside with a frown creased above my green eyes. He’s standing behind the register in the back of the small store, looking like he belongs there. He doesn’t belong there. If his broad, bulky, and sexy sculpted body isn’t a clear indication he prefers a gym over a bookstore, his awkward stance is a dead giveaway. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, shit.” A guilt-ridden expression mars his face, only fueling my confusion. “Err, helping out?”
“Helping out with what?” I plant my hands on my sides, taking him in from head to toe. His chiseled muscles are taunting me like ice cream on a hot summer day, the way his t-shirt hugs the rest of his torso, and those playful hazel eyes that stare back at me from underneath his backward snapback pull me in. The entire sight boils my blood in a way that literally burns my center alive.
He quickly roams around the room, then grabs the two books that are sitting on the counter. “Errr, sorting.” He nods, as if pleased with this bullshit explanation. “Jessa received some heavy inventory, so I figured I’d give her a hand.”
“A hand?”
“Uh-huh.”
I’m about to call him out on his bullshit, when the sound of the toilet flushing in the back catches my attention, and his lashes lower. He pulls his lip between his teeth, seductive as hell, though he isn’t even trying, and I lift my eyebrows in question.
“We have to re-do those toilets, man.” Jason walks out the back, as if he’s done it a hundred times. “They look like the founding fathers of Braeden still drop number twos in there.” His gaze moves up, eyes wide like Bambi in the fucking headlights.
“Julie. Charlotte. Hi,” he says, sharing a little uncomfortable glance with Hunter.
“Okay…” Julie throws both men suspicious eyes, her finger up accusingly. “It’s weird that you two are standing in a bookstore.”
“What the hell?”
“Here are the books, sir. All up to date and ready for your accountant.”
I blink, until suddenly, it hits me. “Oh my god. You bought the bookshop?!”
A sheepish grin curls his mouth. “May—”
“Oh, look at the time!” Jason cuts him off, pulling him away from the counter. “Sorry, man, we got that call you can’t get out of, remember?”
They brush past us, suddenly in a hurry, as if their pants are on fire, and Julie and I keep our eyes trained on them, twisting our bodies simultaneously with their movement.
“Yeah, the call.” Hunter points to Jason, then the door, then throws me another grin that’s filled with the lies that are burning down their ankles.
“Sorry, girls, nice to see you! Talk soon!” Confused, I let them leave, watching them dart over the cobblestone until they are out of sight. Julie and I exchange a look, then I turn around to Jessa.
My frown is peering into her innocent baby browns, a little lamb unaware of anything that conjured my puzzled expression.
“What?”
“Jessa, did Hunter buy the bookshop? ”
“Yes.” What the hell?
“Why?”
The teenager shrugs. “Mrs. Henley wanted to sell and retire in Florida. Apparently, Hunter made her promise a few years ago that she’d call him if she ever wanted to sell. So she did.”
Julie takes a step forward. “Wait, when did she sell it?”
“About six months ago?” Her expression lights up. “Hunter made me manager since I’m taking a leap year.”
First the bowling alley, and now the bookstore? That makes no sense, considering he only touches a book to buy me one...
With lashes high, I gently turn my head to Julie, whose confusion is replaced by a smug grin. “I guess fighter boy is planting his roots in your garden.”