Chapter Nineteen
Ruby
It’s you, Ruby . It’s you. It’s you.
The panic crests. What is this? Why is he doing this? I don’t want him to do this.
He leans back on his hands and studies the opening in the sphere. “I need to say some things. I wish they wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, but they will. Just know I’m only going to say them to get them out of the way so we can get back to normal.” He pauses, then adds, “Eventually.”
I thought we were normal. Now I’m churning inside, and I want to put my hand over his mouth and keep any more words from coming out, so we can stay normal. But he’s already said the part that changes everything.
What else can I do but meet his eyes and show up for him? “I’m listening.”
“I liked you from the first time we worked together, and if you hadn’t made it clear within ten minutes that you had a long-term boyfriend, I probably would have fallen for you right then.
” He pauses for a second before he shakes his head, smiling.
“But if friendship is a ball pit, we held hands and jumped in.”
“Cannonballed,” I agree. I cling to this. We’re cannonballing again, but if we hold on . . .
“Why is that the perfect way to explain this?”
“Because we’re us.” Which always felt like a good thing to be.
“Maybe that’s the problem. Us has always been special, hasn’t it?” he asks.
I nod, too full of big feelings to risk them spilling out by asking how that’s a problem.
“I love being friends with you,” Charlie says. “I can’t imagine not having that forever, but I think that’s only possible if I explain where I am and how I got here.”
I only nod again, trying to cling to the hope that we’re going to navigate back to familiar ground.
His chest expands as he draws a deep breath. For calm? For courage? My own heart clenches. I want Charlie to be okay.
“So we cannonballed into friendship. But the more I heard about Niles, the more convinced I was that he was wrong for you. When I met him, I was sure. After a while, I’d catch myself thinking, ‘If I were her boyfriend, I wouldn’t do that.
’ Honestly, pick any ten things to fill in that blank because so much of how he treated you bugged me. ”
I have to smile. “I could name twenty.”
His lips twist like he’s remembering a couple of specifics. “I thought it more and more until it became constant, but you showed no wavering. The day you came in so excited because you guessed he was going to propose that night . . .”
A look of physical pain crosses his face, and I don’t know what to do. I want to hug him, but is that the wrong thing now that he’s telling me he has feelings for me?
He rolls his neck like he’s been holding this memory there, locked in the muscles. “I expected the night of the proposal to be the worst night of my life.”
I wince thinking about how I’d chattered at work about Niles taking me to dinner, and how I thought it might be the night.
Charlie catches my grimace. “Don’t feel bad.
I told you, I only want you to understand where my head was and is, that’s all.
It felt like watching a wrecking ball swinging straight toward my hopes only to have it miss at the last minute when Ava texted that you broke up with him.
I wasn’t happy, because you were hurting. But I did feel like I could breathe.”
I remember sitting across from Niles during his dry proposal, telling me how it was going to be. The sense of drowning, the need to save myself. “It felt like a wrecking ball to me that night too. Only it knocked down a giant blind spot.”
“Still sucked though, yeah?”
“Still sucked,” I agree.
He sighs. “I hated seeing you hurt, but that night made me accept how deep my feelings were, and I promised myself I would use my second chance.”
“I never knew you were looking for a first chance. I would have said and done so many things differently. Been more considerate.” My heart aches knowing I’ve hurt him inadvertently.
“You mean you’d have been more guarded. Less you around me. I’d never want to change that.”
“But how could you have both things? Using your second chance but not changing things between us?” I don’t know how to ask it without it sounding like criticism, but those are contradictory.
“I didn’t think anything would change. I figured you’d need to detox from Niles, then it would be a matter of time before you realized we’re meant to be, and we’d be us but more. Better, not different.”
I shift uncomfortably, sending vibrations through the net. “What if I never . . .”
A bird cheeps, so close it startles us both into looking up, but its song dies abruptly.
“Never figured it out?” he asks. “Didn’t cross my mind.
It was hard to wait, but you were worth being patient.
When you showed me Niles’s engagement post, I wanted to do a backflip.
I thought it would be the catalyst. You’d start thinking about moving on, and I gave it about a week before you had an epiphany that you wanted to move on with me.
So naturally that’s when your roommates stepped in to ruin things. ”
There’s a trace of humor in his tone, but nothing about this is funny. I’m not panicked anymore, but it’s uncomfortable to hear that he’s planned a different role in his story for me than the one I chose.
“The girls are trying to help me,” I say. “Ruin” sounds intentional, even mean, things my besties are not.
“I know, believe me. I thought I was cooked. I didn’t want them pushing you into anything. Told them you’d date when you were ready. When they started sending you on dates anyway, I decided I’d better come up with a plan to make sure you didn’t get too distracted.”
“A plan?” That sounds too detached and technical to apply to anything between me and Charlie. In fact, it sounds like something that would affect our groove. Our easy—and until very recently—perfect groove.
“A Ruby Ramos Special.” A smile plays on his lips.
“Uh oh.” I mean that with every fiber of my being.
“I learned from the best. There was research. A list. Steps. Co-conspirators.”
“Steps.” My mind buzzes through the last three weeks. “The dating app?”
“Inactive profile. Wanted you to think about what made me dateable.”
“Smart.” But I scowl. “Making the very normal supply room into a weird closet situation?”
His cheeks flush. “Cringe attempt to promote flirty touching.”
Not to mention getting me all conflicted with those feathery whispers that made me shiver. Stoking basic biological reactions? Not cool.
The idea of Charlie having calculated moves like my brothers annoys me. I grab the net between us and give it a hard shake. “Oy, Charlie.”
“Sorry. It would have worked with any other girl.”
Like we’re all plug and play? My temper flashes, but I bank it to dig more into his plan. “The double dates?”
“A three-for-one play. Might make you see my date potential, might make you feel jealous and wonder why, or, if I lucked out, might show how I was way better than whoever you were with.”
It did that last job. Both at bowling and at pickleball, I’d kept thinking it would be better if it was only me and Charlie hanging out. Which meant no Sydney, but was that in a jealous way? Or was it preferring what’s comfortable and easy?
Would I go out of my way to coach Charlie on being more handsy with Sydney if I was jealous?
No. Obviously no.
Then it hits me. “Co-conspirators. Sydney?”
“She wanted to help.”
Why do I hate that? I draw up my knees and wrap my arms around them, needing a hug I can’t ask for right now.
I want to analyze these reactions with Charlie, but I can’t because they’re about Charlie.
I want to respond as his friend, but that requires me to be objective when I’m literally the subject.
I resent it, but guilt gnaws at me for feeling resentful when he’s being vulnerable.
I force myself to think of it like someone else pulled this on me, or Charlie pulled this on someone else. “Half of me admires it. A dummy dating app profile? Fake dating Sydney?”
“Can’t take credit for that idea,” he says. “That was all her.”
Suspicious. “Do you think that was her way of tricking you into liking her for real?”
Charlie laughs. “Definitely reading her wrong. She did it as a solidarity thing with you. Wanted to help you because she had her own bad breakup and she wanted to see you happy after Katie told her about how you set up all the girls, and about Niles wasting your time.”
I sigh, all the hot, prickly feelings inside of me deflating. “I wasted my own time with Niles. He never hid who he is. I chose not to see it.”
“That’s . . . mature.”
I shove his shin with my foot. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
His hands go up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. More like respect.”
“Yeah, well.” I hug my knees again. “That’s pretty cool of her.”
“So, you half admire my plan. How’s your other half feel?”
I rub my chin against my knees, thinking. “Confused. Why now? What made you decide to say something?”
“Have you noticed that even after my big confession, you aren’t flinging yourself at me to tell me you feel the same?” His tone is dryer than an Oklahoma brisket.
“Now that you mention it . . .” My tone is as light as his was dry, but now I’m hugging my knees to keep from climbing into his lap to draw comfort from him because I feel bad for him. Make that make sense.
He mirrors me, drawing his knees up but only to rest them against the loose circle of his arms made by his clasped hands. “I asked Sydney for her advice yesterday. She told me what my gut was already saying. That our friendship is too important for anything less than honesty.”
Now I resent Sydney for forcing us into this conversation.
Charlie, of course, notices. “You’re going to crack your jaw if you clench it any harder.”
That’s a variation on “Relax.” I answer by snapping my teeth.
“Sorry, sorry.” He scrubs his hand through his hair. “I haven’t practiced this scenario. I’ve played it out the other way so many times where we decide to take us to a new level.”