THIRTY-THREE
Charlotte
The best mid-morning light in my house was in the kitchen, which worked out perfectly as the background during my Instagram Live. I put my ring light up on a tripod on the breakfast bar, and my microphone on the counter just out of frame.
I didn’t realize until after I’d started the video that the flowers Noah had sent were still on the island behind me. It meant if he watched this video, he’d see I’d gotten them.
Whatever.
At least they looked good in the shot, and what were the chances he’d watch, anyway? The man wasn’t into cleaning.
He wasn’t into me either.
Engagement in the video was slow at first, but that was normal. I had a list of topics ready to talk about while waiting for the questions to start rolling in, plus I tried to return any of the greetings viewers sent me in the comments.
Most of the questions stayed within my brand. They wanted to know my preferred cleaning products on stone countertops, how to remove the sticky, baked-on mess on an air-fryer tray, or general tips on cleaning faster.
I didn’t know the answer to every question, and I wasn’t ready to call myself an expert. I was honest when I wasn’t sure and explained the way I’d tackle the problem if I were facing it.
I wanted to get there someday. To be knowledgeable and always ready with the right answer, and I spent a lot of time doing my research. I was addicted to cleaning subreddits. I watched other influencers videos, not just for their cleaning process, but to see what worked style wise, what I responded to as a viewer.
In all my life, I’d never liked studying, but this was... sort of enjoyable. It was a full-time job that, so far, didn’t feel like work.
I jotted down notes whenever a question came up I didn’t know the answer to, mining the ideas for future videos.
Dryer vent cleaning, I scribbled in my notebook. Apartment rental move-out.
I’d only planned to talk for thirty minutes, but the comments were coming at me fast and furious, which was awesome, but I struggled to keep up. For time, I had to bypass the question asking which curling iron I’d used on my hair this morning.
The wannabe lifestyle influencer I’d been died a little at that.
I would have been happy to talk beauty stuff any other day, but I needed to stay on brand and get through all the cleaning questions.
When the front doorbell rang, my face froze with a smile, and I pretended I hadn’t heard anything. My microphone was sensitive, but only at close range, so it probably hadn’t picked it up.
I was sure my mom would deal with it, and I used this as my sign to wrap things up.
“Thank you so much for hanging out with me,” I said brightly while staring at the screen of my phone. “This was a lot of fun, and I hope it—”
Breath halted in my lungs when a figure materialized in the background. The moment I recognized who it was, my heart bounced into overdrive, and I spun to face him. I forgot all about the camera, or the people who were watching, and gaped at him.
Noah took one look at my setup, saw the red record timer ticking away at the top of my phone’s screen, and froze like a deer caught in headlights.
“Noah? What the hell?” I demanded.
A warning blared in my head, reminding me I was still live. I swiveled back around, plastered an enormous fake smile on, and like the doorbell, I pretended everything was fine. Nothing had just happened, and I definitely wasn’t unraveling at the sight of him.
Comments flashed quickly by.
Who’s that?
OMG, he’s cute! Your bf?
Some were just emojis of heart eyed smiley faces.
Girl, your brother is hot AF.
My brain wasn’t working properly, so I couldn’t stop my knee-jerk response or the disgust in my voice. “He’s not my brother.” The statement hung for a beat too long. “He’s...”
My ex? The man who ran away the second things got hard?
“He’s my,” I fumbled out, “business partner.”
He remained frozen in the doorway as if every muscle in his stupid, hot body no longer worked, and he was trapped there forever.
My tone was sickly-sweet. “Say hi, Noah. Give the folks a wave.”
Oh, so his body did work.
His expression was dazed as he lifted a hand and gave the worst attempt at a wave I’d ever seen. The comments kept scrolling by.
I would get nothing done if my coworkers looked like that.
Any job openings?
Is he single?
These people were entirely too horny at eleven o’clock in the morning.
It was hard to think with him so close and staring at me, but I stumbled through my sign off, ended the video, and whirled around to face him.
My hands balled into fists at my sides. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in on your video.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “Your mom let me in. She thought you were done filming.”
It physically hurt seeing him again, and I tore my gaze away, studying the grout lines of the tile floor. What the fuck was he doing here? When he’d said I was wasting my time with him, I’d decided the least painful option was to make a clean break.
It felt extra cruel that he was here in my home, in my safe space.
“What do you want?” I tried to sound strong, but my voice was as raw as my emotions.
“We need to talk.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him take a step closer, and my dumb heart fluttered. “About?”
“Business.” This word killed any excitement or hope I might have had. He took another tentative step. “Are you aware your ‘business partner’ has been trying to get in touch with you for days?”
He had enough common sense to look contrite when I lifted my chin and leveled a hard gaze at him. “Maybe I’ve been busy and didn’t want to waste any more of your precious time.”
He winced and glanced away, and his focus snagged on the beautiful flower arrangement he’d sent. How ironic. I’d worried he might notice them in the background of my video, never expecting in a hundred years he’d see them in person.
“I’m so sorry I said that. You need to know, I didn’t mean—”
I spun away from him, unplugged my microphone, and turned off my ring light. “What business do we have to talk about?”
He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to drop it but decided to push on. “The brokerage fees you gave me? I invested them, and one of the stocks did well enough I thought you needed to know.”
I was working on collapsing my tripod, but my movements slowed. “You came over here to brag?”
“What? No.”
He strode forward, closing nearly all the space between us, and hyperawareness lit up my traitorous body. It longed for him, and—God. I hated the sensation. I couldn’t have him, and this was torturous.
“I told you I didn’t need those fees,” he said, “so I took it and invested it for you. If it made anything, my intent was always to give you that money.” He massaged the back of his neck, unknowingly showing off the appealing muscles of his arm. “Even after I took my cut back, it’s made a nice profit.”
He peered at me with excitement in his eyes, like he was hoping I’d ask how much.
But I wasn’t going to bite. “It’s your money,” I said flatly. “You earned it.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s exactly what your dad said when I told him.”
Holy shit. He’d talked to my dad?
Noah rested his hands on his hips, and his tone was direct. “If you want to see it that way—fine. I would like to be an investor in your business, then.”
“What?” My distrust spiked. “Why?”
His dark eyes peered at me with all the confidence of the Wall Street broker he’d been. “Because I want to see how far we can take this thing together.”
Together .
The word sucked all the air from the room.
“This offer,” he continued, “isn’t contingent on anything, either. I have some things to say, and something to ask you, and if your answer is ‘no,’ I still want to invest.” The faintest smile hinted at the corner of his lips. “I mean, we’ve both demonstrated how good we are at keeping our personal and professional lives separate, haven’t we?”
A familiar sensation traveled across my skin like an electric charge. It was the same one I had whenever I unwrapped a present when I was nearly certain I knew what was inside.
Anxiousness tightened my vocal cords. “What’s the question?”
“Hold on. We’ll get to that.” He dropped his hands to his sides, and his shoulders rolled back, giving him the posture of someone preparing to pitch an idea. “Charlotte, I am a mess without you.”
Everything came to a halt. Had the Earth stopped turning? The word was barely a whisper from me. “What?”
“I don’t mean my house,” his voice was solid, full of conviction, “although I’m sure you’d say that’s not great right now.” He pushed the thought aside. “I mean that my life is a mess, because I’m in love with you, and I fucked it all up.”
Whoa.
Blood roared through my ears, drowning out sound for a moment, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
Did he just say he was in love with me?
I had to reach behind and put a hand on the counter to steady myself, because my legs were boneless. He must have sensed it, because he took the final step forward and put a hand on my hip to help keep me upright.
I peered into his eyes, desperately searching for the lie... but couldn’t find one.
“I’m sorry for what I did.” His voice was low and thick. “For the things I said. I need you to know I didn’t mean any of it. It’s not an excuse, but when your father caught us and fired me, I panicked. And when you said you loved me, I lost my shit.” His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and remorse. “I got scared, and I,” he emphasized the word, “ran.”
I forced out a breath.
Well.
I knew a little bit about doing that, didn’t I?
His hand rested on my waist, and beneath my shirt, my skin tingled from his touch.
The expression on his handsome face shifted, returning to the one of determination he’d been wearing. “All the time we were together, I was so worried about losing my job, I didn’t realize that losing what we had was so much worse.” His fingers gently squeezed, subtly drawing me in. “I miss you so fucking much. I miss my best friend.”
My head spun, overwhelmed. “I’m your only friend.”
I hadn’t uttered it to be mean, it only came out because my brain wasn’t working. He seemed to understand I was all out of sorts because the corner of his mouth tweaked.
“I have other friends,” he said. “But even if that’s true and you’re my only friend, I’m okay with that. You’re enough for me, Charlotte.” He said it so softly, it was a whisper. “ More than enough.”
I hadn’t a fucking clue what to say.
He’d stunned me utterly speechless, and my body went weightless. I was sure I’d float away if it weren’t for his hand tethering me in place.
“I spoke to my old boss at HBHC,” he said. “He told me there’s a position available if I want it.”
Oh, God. My heart thumped painfully in my chest, which was wild. This morning I’d wanted him cut out of my life, and now the threat of him leaving caused panic. “You’re going back to New York?”
He looked relieved, glad to hear I didn’t want that. “No. It’s remote work. The hours and the pay aren’t the best, but I’m planning on taking it.”
“You don’t have to. My dad said he’ll give you your job back.”
“He told me, and, shit, Charlotte. I really fucking appreciate you going to bat for me, especially when I didn’t deserve it. But I think it’s better if I don’t go back to Warbler. I didn’t realize how much I liked being a broker... until I wasn’t one.” His gaze slid over my face like he was studying each detail. “It’ll be easier this way, me not being your father’s employee.” His head tilted. “Why’d you ask him to give me my job back?”
I bit my bottom lip, trying to stop tears from forming in my eyes. “I don’t know,” I lied. But he already knew the answer, so what was the point in pretending? “Because I love you.”
“Yeah?” His other hand closed on my waist, so he was holding me. “I love you too.”
He’d said it before, but I reacted like this was the first time, and a jolt ran through me from head to toe.
“How the hell did that happen?” I whispered. “I thought you didn’t have time.”
“I was wrong,” he admitted. “Or maybe I didn’t have time because I was waiting for the right person to come along.”
I was nearly too afraid to ask it. “And you’re sure it’s me?”
His surprised laugh cut through the tension, and his hands slipped around to rest comfortably on the small of my back. “Yes, Charlotte, it’s you.”
There’d been a constant longing to be in his arms that I hadn’t noticed. Not until now, when the ache for it was gone.
His mouth hovered over mine, threatening a kiss. “The question I need to ask is, can you give me another chance?”
All my life, I’d been given chance after chance, sometimes when I didn’t even deserve them.
Giving us a second chance? That was easy.
The word burst from my lips. “Yes, of course—”
His mouth sealed over mine, and his kiss was full of so much love, the world began turning again.