22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Fuck.
I can’t let Charlie be with me. I can’t let her think she loves me. She deserves so much more than a scarred-up mess who’s half a man. She deserves someone strong. Virile. Perfect.
Telling her I didn’t love her was awful. Lying, faking a callous expression. Intentionally hurting her. The look in her eyes made me want to drop to my knees, beg her forgiveness, and tell her the truth: that I do love her, with every part of my being.
But I did the right thing. The hard thing.
I let her go.
But it doesn’t feel right. Lying. Hurting her on purpose. Telling her I’m seeing another woman.
I thought the end would justify the means. That as long as she ends up with the right guy in the end, it will have been the right thing to do.
Then she didn’t come home.
She wasn’t at Lila’s. Tucker went looking for her. I texted Lila, asking her to at least let me know if Charlie was okay. She told me to go fuck myself and suggested positions in which I could do so.
Hours pass. Nine o’clock. Ten o’clock. Eleven o’clock.
I text Tucker and ask if he’s found her. He replies with a curt, “No.”
Charlie was so upset when she left. Telling her I was seeing someone else was wrong. I’m willing to concede that. And I shouldn’t have let her drive off in the state of mind she was in. I should have convinced her to let me get her an Uber to wherever she was headed.
Midnight comes and goes. Anxiety is making my imagination run rampant. What if she’s been in an accident? What if she’s lying in a ditch somewhere and no one knows she’s been hurt? It’ll be entirely my fault if anything happens to her.
At one o’clock, I call every police station and hospital within two hundred miles to see if she's been in an accident. No one’s seen Charlie. I do the same thing at four o’clock. Still nothing.
Fuck.
What have I done?
I wake up around five, disoriented. When I sit up, everything spins. My eyes fall on Tom, sitting in the bed next to me. He’s leaning against the headboard, shirtless. I glance around. My sweater and jeans lie folded on the dresser.
“Nothing happened, Charlie,” Tom says. “I’d never do that.”
“I know.” I could be drunk off my ass, naked as a jaybird, and horny as a moose in rut, and I’d be safe with him. “I trust you. I just have some blank spots in my memory.” I cock my head. “Why were you at the bar last night?”
“Lila called. She said Mark was being a dumbass and you were upset, and she was worried you’d be getting drunk with people who would take advantage of you.”
“So you came to protect me?”
He nods. “Always.” Then he looks at me. “So what do you remember about last night?”
“You showed up at the bar and made that guy leave.” Tom grins. “I was having trouble walking and you carried me. And you helped me change clothes and were very respectful.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He shrugs. “You’re my friend.” Then he studies me. “Do you remember anything from before I showed up?”
I swallow against the lump growing in my throat as I scoot up to lean against the headboard beside him. “I remember Mark breaking up with me because I fell in love with him.”
He stares, too stunned to speak at first. “What do you mean, he broke up with you?”
I close my eyes, trying not to cry even as my voice cracks. “I came home from work. He met me in the hall and accused me of falling for him. I admitted I had, and I said I was pretty sure he loved me, too. He told me I wasn't really in love with him and said he didn’t love me. He said I deserved someone whole and healthy. Then he said we should see other people. Turns out, he already is.”
Tom slides an arm around my shoulder, and I lean against him. “I’m sorry, Charlie,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Me, either.”
We sit silently for a long time. “I’m shocked you aren’t hung over,” he finally says.
“I’m pretty sure I’m still drunk.”
“Want me to go find coffee?”
“Please. And aspirin.”
As soon as Tom closes the door behind him, I scramble to my feet. I regret my rapid movement immediately as the room whirls around me. I drop to my knees and close my eyes, waiting for it to pass. After a minute, I get up slowly and dress, balancing against the bed. I stumble to the bathroom, thankful to find a toothbrush and toothpaste.
It’s almost dawn when Tom returns with two giant cups of coffee, a bottle of aspirin, and apple-cinnamon danishes. “Get some food in your stomach. It’ll help sober you up and keep the coffee and aspirin from making you queasy.”
I sit at the table with him and nibble on the danish as I sip coffee. I’m not hungry, but I definitely have to sober up before work.
“Tara’s covering your clients today,” he says, reading my mind.
I shake my head, wishing I hadn’t as a wave of dizziness hits. “I’m not sick.”
“Call it a mental health day. Lila arranged it last night.”
“I need to be at the office. Mark’s at home and I –” I break off. “I need to be at work.”
Oh, God. What if his date spent the night? She might still be there. I close my eyes and suddenly feel sick.
“Work in your office.” Tom interrupts my misery. “I saw the piles of papers on your desk yesterday. I know you couldn’t possibly have finished it all.”
“I didn’t. I can do that, assuming my head stops throbbing enough for me to read.”
“I’ve been thinking about what would make Mark would react like he did. I think he’s scared.”
I study his gentle brown eyes. “Scared of what?”
“How much he loves you.”
I shake my head. “Mark doesn’t love me. He was very clear about that.”
He shakes his head, too. “He does, Charlie. Trust me. He’s been in love with you for a long time. He just doesn’t want to admit it, to you or to himself. If you guys maintain your relationship as merely friends, there’s no risk. You’ll always be a part of each other’s lives. Love isn’t like that. It carries an enormous risk. What if he falls for you and you don’t love him back, or you leave him? It’s scary for him.”
I stare glumly at the table. “I know the feeling.”
“Charlie, Mark is in love with you. He just needs something to make him realize it.”
We’re both quiet in the early morning light, the silence broken only by the occasional sip of coffee or the crinkle of the paper wrappers from the bakery.
I study Tom, my chin in my hand. “What would make him realize how he feels?”
“He needs to feel something stronger than his fear,” Tom answers. “Jealousy is the oldest play in the book.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “If a guy sees another man with his woman, it stirs something visceral in him.”
I sag back in my chair. “I’m not sure Mark is the jealous type.”
Tom chuckles. “Trust me, he is. I had to work to drag him off Blake that day he was pounding the shit out of him.”
I frown. “He didn't do that out of jealousy.”
“No, he did it because Blake hurt you. Even then, Mark loved you.”
He did. But that was a different kind of love.
I sit quietly for a few minutes. “I wouldn’t even know how to make him jealous.”
“Spend time with another guy, and do it in front of him."
“I don’t know, Tom. What if he really doesn’t love me? Then I’m just using some poor guy for no reason.”
“Use me,” he suggests. I raise startled eyes to his. “Seriously,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Charlie, and you two belong together. Let me be your catalyst.”
“How?” I ask warily.
“I’ll spend more time at your house. We’ll be affectionate in front of him. He knows we’re close, so he’ll assume we took things to another level. I promise you, that big green jealousy monster will rear its ugly head in no time.”
“It seems dishonest and unfair to you.”
Tom shakes his head. “I’ll be spending more time with one of my closest friends. Besides, Mark’s very much in love with you. If it takes a little sleight of hand to make him realize it, well –” he grins, “all’s fair in love and war.”
I wrestle with the idea for several minutes. Then I remember Mark’s repeated growls when we would kiss or make love, when he’d claim, “Mine.”
Maybe we could make him jealous.
I look up at Tom with the faintest glimmer of hope. “When do we start?”
He grins. “This morning.”
My eyes widen, and he nods.
“Why waste this perfect opportunity? He knows you didn’t come home, and he knows you weren’t with Lila. I’ll drive you home, walk you to your door, and you’ll stroll in wearing my shirt instead of the clothes he saw you leave in last night. He’ll think you and I spent the night together. Which we did,” he adds, “but not like he’ll assume. After work, I’ll bring you here to pick up your car, and we can go back to your house. The idea is to make him wonder what’s going on between us, to encourage him to jump to conclusions. You need him to be unhappy about you being with someone else, and I’m a perfect option because he knows you’re comfortable with me.”
The idea has merit. I don’t want to be dishonest with Mark, but if I have to mislead him a little to get him to realize he loves me, I’m pretty sure he’ll forgive me after the fact. Besides, he’s behaving like an idiot, and if this will make him come to his senses, I’ll throw myself into the act wholeheartedly.
He’ll come to his senses.
He has to.
Tom pulls out his phone and sends a brief text to Lila, letting her know I’m heading home to change and that I'll be working in the office today. Lila fires off a slew of texts, until he finally says we’ll explain in a little while, that I’m still not feeling great but that he’s taking me home. In the meantime, I change back into Tom’s shirt. I try to fix my hair, but stop when I decide a little bedhead might help sell things.
I’m still unsteady when he helps me into his car, putting his jacket around my shoulders when I shiver in the frosty October air. The hotel isn’t far from my house, and before long, we’re pulling into my driveway. Tom glances up at my front door.
“Game face on, Charlie,” he says, seeing Mark glaring out the window. “We’ve got an audience.”
He hops out of the car and comes around to the passenger side, where he opens my door and tucks me tightly against his side, trying to disguise the fact that I’m still tipsy. “Look happy,” he murmurs, and I laugh and lean into him.
We’re still on the porch when Mark snatches open the front door. “Nice of you to call last night,” he snaps.
I raise an eyebrow. “I said I’d leave so you and your date could have the place to yourselves,” I reply coolly. “I assumed you’d be too busy with her to pay attention to your phone.”
“Like you were?”
I pull out my phone and glance at it. “Must have turned it off,” I say breezily. I look at Tom. “It’s chilly. Come inside.”
Mark’s jaw tightens, and I feel Tom brace for a punch. I know he won’t release me to block it because he’s having to support my wobbly legs. But the hit never comes, and we walk past Mark and into the foyer.
“Come upstairs,” I say throatily, and even to my ears, it sounds sexy.
He helps me up the stairs and closes my door behind us. When he releases me, I fling myself onto the bed, making it bang noisily into the wall while I giggle. I immediately regret the idea, clenching my eyes shut while I wait for the room to stop spinning.
Tom sits on the bed beside me. “I think you can dial it back a little.”
“Too much?” I ask, my eyes still tightly shut.
“He’s got the idea. No need to rub his nose in it. He’s already jealous.”
I open one eye. “You think so?”
He chuckles. “I know so. I was pretty sure I was going to get punched downstairs.”
I frown. “I don’t want you to get hit.”
He grins. “I get punched for fun all the time, Charlie.”
I sit up. “Thanks, Tom,” I say quietly. “This means a lot to me.”
His eyes soften. “You’re special, Charlie, and I don’t want Mark to make the biggest mistake of his life.” He squeezes my hand. “I need to go home and shower. I’ll see you at work.”
I take a hot shower and dress quickly, feeling slightly more human as I slip downstairs and out the side door without having to see Mark. When I get to work, Lila’s waiting in my office. She shuts the door and pulls me close for a long hug.
“Why aren’t you resting? You aren’t supposed to be back at work,” I protest.
“I’m not working. I’m checking on you. Mark called me last night.” She guides me to the sofa. “I already heard his half-assed version of things. What happened?”
I shake my head miserably. “I told him I loved him before I went to sleep the other night, the same way I always do, but it was right after we’d made love and –” I break off for a second, remembering how cherished I’d felt, closing my eyes against the haunting images that stab me in the heart. “I’ve been in love with him for a while, Lila, and he heard it in my voice. When I came home last night, he accused me of being in love with him, and when I admitted I was, he said it would never work. He said I needed someone whole and healthy and –” I swallow hard, “and that he didn’t love me. He said we needed to see other people. I guess he’d planned to tell me earlier, but I came home late. When I realized he was dressed to go out, I asked if he was already seeing someone, and he said his date would be there in a few minutes.”
“Oh, Charlie,” Lila says sadly. “I’m so sorry.”
“What did he say when you talked to him?”
Lila places her hand on mine. “He said he broke up with you because you were in love with him, and that you deserve someone better, someone whole. He said he’d told you he had a date, and I went ape shit on him. But he didn’t actually have a date. He said he’d just wanted you to know he was serious.”
“Message received,” I say sadly, but the knowledge that Mark didn’t really spend last night in another woman’s arms helps untwist my stomach a tiny bit.
“So what now?”
I sigh. “If he’s too stubborn to listen to reason, I’ll attack his primal instincts and use Tom to make him jealous.”
Lila raises an eyebrow and settles in. “Details. Now.”
“It was Tom’s suggestion. He said sometimes reminding a guy what he’s missing can be really effective. So he brought me home wearing his shirt and jacket and walked me into the house with his arm around me. Mark was pissed. Said I should have called him if I wasn’t coming home, and I reminded him I’d told him he and his date could have the place to themselves. He looked like he wanted to punch Tom when we went upstairs together.”
A slow smile spreads across her face. “That might be exactly what you need. Let Mark see Tom as an available, sexy guy ready to swoop in if he doesn’t come to his senses.”
My faint hope wavers. “What if he doesn’t, Lila?”
“He will,” she assures me.
I wish I had her confidence. “What makes you so sure?”
“You two have been in love with each other for a long time. Tucker and I have seen it for years, but you guys had to find out for yourselves. You’re meant to be together. If there really is such a thing as soulmates, it’s you and Mark. He’s just scared of his feelings for you.”
“That’s what Tom said.”
“He’s right. Mark loves you. He just needs to come to grips with it. His body insecurities are his biggest obstacle. Sure, he’s got his permanent prosthesis now, and he’ll be walking without crutches soon, but he still sees himself as damaged goods. I think Tucker said the term he used was ‘half a man’. Until he truly accepts himself, he won’t be able to fully commit to you.”
I’m not sure Mark will ever accept his changed body. A chill settles over me, because that doesn’t bode well for us.
Tom stops by my office later to check on me. “How are you feeling?”
“Like there’s a marching band competition inside my skull,” I confess, “but to be fair, I earned it after that much tequila.”
“I have aspirin at my desk.”
I open my top drawer to reveal a large bottle. “Got it covered, but thanks.”
“I’m going to head out a few minutes before four. I’ve got my boxing class at four-thirty. I can give you a ride to your car when I head out.”
I don’t want to go home. Actually, I’d love to go home and lick my wounds, but I don’t want to see Mark. I can’t yet. I’m feeling too fragile. “Can I go with you and watch your class?”
“Of course. The boys love showing off. I should warn you though, they’re pretty loud and the gym echoes, so if your head hurts, it might not be the best idea.”
My face falls. “I don’t want to face Mark yet,” I admit.
He thinks for a minute. “I have an office at the center. You can turn off the lights and rest in there. Then we’ll get dinner and go to your house when you’re ready.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
He grins again. “It’s dinner and hanging out together. We do that all the time. I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”
Despite my attempts to make a dent in the paperwork that afternoon, my mind keeps returning to getting Mark to acknowledge his feelings. He did seem mad when I came home with Tom, but maybe that was because he’d worried when I didn’t come home last night. Good, I think grumpily, then feel a brief twinge of guilt.
I push the guilt away. Mark needs something to make him realize he loves me.
I’m still not entirely sure he’s capable of jealousy, though. Both before and after Blake, he’d encouraged me to get back on the dating horse. In all fairness, though, that was before we engaged in a physical relationship.
Before he started claiming me as his when we’d make love.
He did give Tom a pretty nasty look this morning when I showed up arm in arm with him, sporting his shirt and smelling of his cologne.
I can definitely up my game in the Tom department. Maybe that will knock some sense into him.
It has to.
Lila tells me we can’t all take Charlie’s side, at least, not openly. She says that will only make Mark dig in his heels and be that much more stubborn. Besides, we need to keep an open line of communication so we can influence him. So here I am, in the middle of the day, knocking on his door while Charlie’s at work.
Mark pulls it open, watching me with wary eyes.
“You look like shit,” I blurt. He’s pale, wearing wrinkled clothes that I’m pretty sure he was wearing when I stormed in last night, and his hair’s sticking up all over the place. He looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten in days.
He scowls. “Nice to see you, too.”
“You gonna let me in, or are we gonna do this in the doorway?”
Mark sighs and opens the door wider, and I step inside.
“Sorry I barged in here and yelled at you last night,” I say. “Lila and I had just come from an infertility support group meeting, and it was pretty emotional. Lots of people crying. Lila was crying. It was rough. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Even though I meant every damn word of it.
Mark’s scowl fades. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. How’s Lila?”
“Physically, she’s improving. Emotionally… that’s another story.” I hesitate. Maybe if I share some actual, honest emotions, he’ll do the same, and I can get inside his thick skull. “She offered to divorce me, so I could find a woman who could give me children. Said she’d split everything evenly and wouldn’t contest it.”
He gapes, open-mouthed. “But you two belong together.”
“Sometimes people can’t see themselves clearly,” I say, but he either misses the insinuation or ignores it. “Lila thinks I’d be better off with someone who can give me kids. I told her the only thing I give a damn about is her.”
“Did she listen?”
“I think so, for now.”
“What does that mean?”
I sigh. “Every month when she gets her period, it’s another loss. She blames herself. The hormone shots make her more emotional. So she may offer to divorce me again, or worse, she might actually try.”
“Why would Lila blame herself?”
“She once described her uterus like a garden. She said I was planting plenty of seeds, but her soil wouldn’t let anything take root.”
“But you two are meant for each other. Can’t she see that?”
I look at him pointedly. “Like I said, sometimes people can’t see themselves clearly. They think their partner would be better off without them because they’re fixated on things that don’t matter.”
Mark’s jaw tightens. “Did you just make all that shit up to prove a point?”
I shake my head. “Call Lila if you don’t believe me. She’ll tell you. She damn near broke my heart over something that doesn’t matter to me.”
“This isn’t the same thing, Tucker.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Mark. I don’t agree with your decision, but it’s your life.”
His eyes harden. “You think I’m making a mistake.”
Damn right I do. The biggest one of your life.
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter what I think. You two tried the physical thing and had some fun, and it’s run its course. No strings attached, right? Just friends with benefits.”
Hearing myself say those words about Charlie turns my stomach, but I persist, hoping to get through to him. “I mean, it’s not your fault she got attached. You had ground rules in place. No romantic entanglements – that was the rule you both agreed to, and she broke it. That’s on her, man, not you.”
His pale blue eyes turn icy, but I pretend not to notice. “Anyway, I stopped by to apologize for busting in here last night with an attitude. If you need to get away for a beer or need somewhere to crash, call me.” I gesture toward him. “And take a shower. You really do look like shit.”
I drive off, praying Mark will stop what he’s doing before he makes the biggest mistake of his life.
My headache has improved to a dull throb by late afternoon, so I watch Tom’s boxing class. He’s managing the large group of kids by himself. I didn’t realize he hadn’t gotten another assistant coach to help since he fired Blake. Well, technically, I suppose he didn’t “fire” him, since Blake was a volunteer. Either way, he informed Blake – apparently using his fists for emphasis – that his services were no longer required.
Tom’s good to me, even when it causes him problems, like managing an entire herd of hyperactive boys alone or nearly getting punched in the face by Mark.
Thirty boys ranging in age from about eight to sixteen gather around Tom. He calls out directions, putting them through their paces and warming them up before dividing them into pairs to spar on padded mats. He walks between them, instructing them and correcting their form. At the end of the class, each pair gets into the ring to box one round with their partner, with Tom in the ring guiding and encouraging them.
After his class, he showers and comes out in jeans and a soft olive shirt, smelling of fresh soap with his hair still damp. “Ready?”
I nod as he tosses his backpack over his shoulder.
“Where would you like to go for dinner?”
“Somewhere with soup. I owe my stomach a serious apology.”
“I know a place nearby with excellent soup and sandwiches.”
“Perfect.”
He nods. “Follow me.”
I drive behind his SUV, parking beside him in a lot that is surprisingly uncrowded. The restaurant is warm and cozy, half-full and quiet. I order a turkey sandwich on toast and chicken soup. When the waitress brings it, pain echoes in my chest. I realize I've ordered the same meal Mark made for me when I was distraught over the cruel things Blake said.
The restaurant’s food is good, but Mark’s was better, because he’d made it for me with love.
Sappy much?
I need to redirect my focus. I glance at Tom. “Are you going to get another assistant? It looked like you had your hands full out there.”
He shrugs lightly. “If I add any more students, I’m going to have to. There are a couple of guys I spar with that might be good with the boys, but I’m going to do a better job of vetting them in the future.”
I cock my head at him. “It’s not your fault Blake was an asshole, Tom.”
He frowns. “I vouched for him.”
“Well, I’m not planning on dating any more of your assistant coaches, so as long as they’re good with the boys, that should be the only thing that matters.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t put anyone else in a position of authority if I can’t trust their character. Kids are easily influenced. I’m responsible for making sure they learn the right things, not just in the ring, but out of it.”
I smile. “Those boys are lucky to have you.”
He rolls his eyes. “They mostly just want to pound each other. I try to teach them how to channel their emotions and roll with the punches, literally.”
I shake my head at him. “Do any guys see themselves clearly?”
He laughs. “Actually, I think the majority of us overestimate things and think far too highly of ourselves.”
“Some do,” I agree, “but I don’t think guys have cornered the market on that. A lot of women suffer the same affliction.” Tom’s ex-girlfriend, Whitney, for example, or his ex-wife, Chele.
Tom studies me from across the table as he consumes a massive triple-decker club sandwich and a bowl of potato soup. “So as far as you and I trying to make Mark jealous, have you thought about the PDA angle?”
I tilt my head. “Public displays of affection?”
He nods.
I reach for my tea. “No. Why?”
“I mean, it’s a foolproof way to make him jealous, but…” He glances at me worriedly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re like a sister to me.”
I blink. “Is that a bad thing?”
He laughs. “I’m just saying, if you decide we should try something hot, it’ll be weird.”
I laugh, too. “You’re saying you don’t find me the least bit sexy.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not falling into that trap. I’m saying I find you sexy in a brotherly way. You know, sexy, but for other men.”
I lean my chin on my hand, thinking. “Should we set limits?”
“I mean, hand-holding, cuddling, things like that are no big deal. That’s being affectionate, and we already do that. It’ll bother him, but it’s not pushing the envelope. Kissing and things like that?” He rubs the back of his head, frowning. “I mean, actors do that with other actors, right? They make it look convincing, even if they aren’t into it. I guess we could, if we had to.”
I laugh out loud. “Your romantic side knows no bounds.”
He grins. “I can be very romantic. Just not with you.” Then his eyes widen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean –”
“I’m not offended,” I assure him, still laughing. “The feeling’s mutual. How about this? We stick to the affectionate stuff and hope that works. Maybe we won’t have to do anything else.”
He chuckles. “So you aren’t into me either, huh?”
I sigh. “Things might be a lot easier if I were, but no.”
I stare into my soup, and it makes me think of Mark again. Pain swells inside me, but I catch myself. He loves me. On some level, he always has. The way he loves me has deepened and changed, that’s all. I just need to help him realize that.
After dinner, Tom follows me home. I glance at him and reach for his hand as we walk inside. “We’re home,” I call.
There’s a pause before Mark answers, his voice strained. “In the living room.”
Tom and I round the corner hand in hand as the opening credits for a movie scroll across the television. “Hey, man,” Tom greets Mark cheerfully, as though there’s nothing at all awkward about this. “Mind if we join you?”
Mark stares at us. There’s a lengthy pause as he zeroes in on our intertwined fingers. “No, that’d be great,” he answers stiffly.
Tom and I settle comfortably on the adjacent couch. Tom relaxes in the corner, reclined with his legs up on the footrest. I lean against his side with my legs stretching the length of the couch. He slides an arm comfortably around me, his hand resting on my hip. I catch Mark glaring at us out of the corner of my eye and have to suppress my smile.
After an hour or so in that position, I reposition myself, sliding further down the couch and laying my head on Tom’s lap. His arm slides along my side, his hand coming to rest on my ribs. I hear a sharp intake of breath from the other couch. Mark drops the remote, fumbling to catch it and accidentally muting the volume during an intense action scene. Tom and I both glance at his red face, and I hide another smile.
Determined not to waste this opportunity, I slide my hand up and link fingers with Tom, our hands splayed across my abdomen. I chance a quick glance across the room.
Mark repeatedly clenches his jaw as he stares intently at the screen. He leans down to the mini fridge and pulls out a beer, which he downs, followed by a second and a third in rapid succession. By the time the end credits roll, he’s finished a full six-pack.
When the movie ends, Tom looks down and smiles softly, tugging on a lock of my hair. “I should get home. Walk me to my car?”
I give him an equally soft smile. “I’d love to.”
Tom holds my hand as we walk around his SUV. It sits between us and the front of the house. He opens the driver’s door, causing the car’s interior light to come on.
“Lean against the back door and face me,” he murmurs.
I lean back, and Tom braces his left arm above my head and leans in, his face close to mine.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything, but to a jealous mind, you can imagine how this looks.”
I slip my arms around his neck and pull him down against my shoulder. “I’m not worried. I trust you. But this really does seem like I’m using you.”
He chuckles. “I spent my evening cuddling a beautiful friend. I think this is a sacrifice I can make. Besides, it’s getting to him.”
“You think so?”
He chuckles again. “I know so. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
I grin. “Good.”
We stay like that for a couple of minutes before Tom pulls away. He glances toward the porch, and sure enough, Mark is staring out the window. “We have an audience.”
“Excellent.”
He kisses my forehead and hugs me tightly. “He’ll come to his senses, Charlie. You’re too good a woman to lose.”
I see Mark’s shadow moving behind the drapes as I walk back to the house. I steel myself as I climb the steps, unsure if he will be angry, cold, or hopefully, proclaiming his undying love.
But it’s none of those things. As I open the front door, his bedroom door closes, and I hear the lock click.
Fine.
Go sulk.
But I know I’m getting to you, because you locked your door for the first time ever.
I don’t believe this shit. I stay up all night, worried sick, afraid Charlie’s lying dead in a ditch somewhere after she flew out of here so upset. Instead, she strolls in this morning with Tom like nothing’s happened.
With his arm around her.
Wearing his fucking shirt.
Then they go upstairs to her room, and I hear bed springs squeak, followed by the sound of Charlie giggling.
Something hot and fierce surges in my chest, but there’s not a damn thing I can do. She’s doing exactly what I told her I wanted her to do. She even picked the guy I thought was perfect for her.
Maybe she’s been harboring that thought all along, too.
Then tonight, they come in hand in hand and snuggle on the sofa, watching a movie with me. I couldn’t tell you what the movie was about if my life depended on it, but I can describe in exact detail everything they did.
Charlie leaned against his chest with his arm down her side, touching her hip.
Then she laid her head on his lap, much too close to his groin.
Tom settled his hand possessively right beneath her breast.
At that point, I’d dropped the remote and accidentally pressed the mute button, so they realized I’d been watching them.
Of course I was watching. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
With him.
Because I want her to be with me.
She walks him out, and they linger, locked in an embrace for several minutes while I peek through the curtains like a damn pervert. Two minutes. Three. Five. Seven.
Jeez, get a room, I think, but I definitely don’t want them to do that.
When he finally starts his car, I head for my room before she comes back inside. I pause, then lock the door.
Because if Charlie comes in here, I can’t trust myself not to tell her how I really feel.