Chapter 3
SLACK MESSAGE FROM ROGER LUDERMORE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 6:06 AM:did you reorder business cards
SLACK MESSAGE FROM ROGER LUDERMORE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 7:31 AM:I wanted cream cards not eggshell
TEXT MESSAGE FROM JACKIE SLAUGHTER TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 9:25 AM:you awake yet? I’m getting McDonalds!
“Chaaaarrrlotte!”
A hand rumpled her hair. Fingernails lightly scratched her scalp. The scent of greasy food wafted through her subconscious.
“It’s ten a.m.,” Jackie purred. “Time to get up and hang out with me!”
Charlotte jolted awake to find her best friend perched on the side of the bed, her hair trapped in a messy topknot. Frizzy brown tendrils kissed her forehead. Charlotte hadn’t seen Jackie since Thanksgiving, and she looked reassuringly herself—cozy but alert.
Charlotte lunged at her and dragged her down onto the mattress. She mushed her nose against Jackie’s back and took a big whiff: sugary perfume and just a hint of fried food. “Oh my god, finally.”
Jackie poked her on the nose. “Boop! I got you this. Go on, drink up.” She retrieved a Gatorade from the bookshelf that served as a bedside table.
Charlotte dragged herself upright and took the bottle. She screwed off the top and reluctantly took a sip. “Ugh, thanks, I hate it.”
“You’re welcome. There’s McDonald’s on the desk when you’re ready.”
She blinked the sleep from her eyes and enjoyed the strange familiarity of sitting in a crappy dorm bed with her best friend, one of them in pajamas, the other bursting with energy. In their four years at Hein, they’d done exactly this thousands of times: in Charlotte’s freshman-year double that she shared with an elusive chem student, and then in the two-bedroom suite she and Jackie shared sophomore year in Fuller Dorm. They lived together for three years at Hein, learning each other’s quirks and boundaries by heart, except the semester Jackie spent studying abroad in Paris. It was a strange miracle that they got along as well as they did, with their opposing personalities. Aside from the occasional fight about whose turn it was to clean out the mini fridge—Your takeout is spawning alien life, Char—they got along swimmingly.
Charlotte considered meeting Jackie to be the best thing that ever happened to her. Most of the time, at least.
Jackie leapt off the bed to fuss with her suitcase, flinging clothes everywhere, tank tops and boots and cute going-out jackets tossed haphazardly across the linoleum. She picked up a mound of shirts, refolding and organizing them on a bookshelf as she told Charlotte about her travel. “Hertz had already released my car because they’re awful, but lucky me, they only had a convertible left! So we are driving in style this weekend.”
Charlotte crawled down the bed and snatched the McDonald’s bag into her lap. Grease leached through the paper wrapper.
Hell yes, hash browns.
“Thank you for this, I didn’t eat dinner last night.”
“We can go to Stop and Shop for snacks.” Jackie moved on to sorting her pants. She rolled up a pair of familiar leggings with hein university stitched down the leg in blue. “I am too old for cheap beer, so we’ll get booze too.” She placed the leggings roll on a shelf beside a pyramid of balled-up socks.
Around a mouthful of potato, Charlotte garbled, “I don’t think you packed enough clothes.”
“It’s not all to wear. The clothing swap is tomorrow.”
Every year a senior hosted a big swap meet for graduating students to unload clothes they no longer wanted as they prepared to leave campus. Unclaimed items were donated to a nearby shelter.
“They still do that?” Charlotte asked.
“It’s in the schedule as an official RC event! So cool, right?” Jackie preened. “They even have a lounge reserved. When it was my turn to host, everyone just threw their stuff on our living room floor.”
Charlotte smiled. “I remember.” Jackie had a knack for spotting potential through the chaos, from a vintage skirt buried under piles of used clothing to a new friend looking shyly through the accessories table. Jackie’s extroversion overwhelmed Charlotte sometimes, but her life was all the better for it.
“You’re coming, right?” Jackie fixed her with a hopeful stare. “We can treasure hunt like we used to.”
Charlotte ate the last of her hash brown as she thought through the weekend ahead. Tomorrow should be quiet. Roger wouldn’t arrive on campus until Sunday morning, so she had time. “I wouldn’t miss it,” she promised.
Jackie threw her a wide grin. “Good.” Then she turned back to her luggage, setting aside a pile to bring to the swap.
While Jackie puttered, Charlotte grabbed her iPhone from the bookshelf. She winced at the cracked screen. It wasn’t too bad: She could still read the avalanche of notifications from Roger. She could probably make the phone last another six months if she didn’t drop it again.
“You have an accident or something?” Jackie asked, nodding at the damage.
Charlotte threw the empty hash brown wrapper at her. Jackie swatted it away with an expert hand.
“How are you even awake right now? You must be exhausted,” Charlotte asked.
Aerial assault eliminated, Jackie resumed lining up bottles of nail polish on the bookshelf: red, mint green, black, a clear top coat with flecks of silver glitter. Charlotte eyed her own unpainted toes and resolved to give them a cleanup. Maybe a nice burning red to express her sexual frustration.
“I slept on the plane, and don’t change the subject.”
She cringed. Unbidden, the memory of Reece standing across from her in the hallway returned to her. The heat in his eyes, the way his jaw went slack…every inch of her skin alive with awareness of his body near hers.
And then there was Ben at the front of the lecture hall, eyes narrowed as he took in the room.
“Yesterday was eventful.” Charlotte gingerly lay back down and threw her arm over her face.
The comforting sounds of Jackie’s movement about the room stilled. “Do you have something to share with the class, Charlotte Thorne?”
Jackie was the closest thing Charlotte knew to actual family. Her best friend had the dubious honor of guarding her secrets. But some things were too complex and embarrassing to admit, even to Jackie. She didn’t know how to explain the tunnel-vision panic she felt at the career center when Ben took center stage, not after all these years. Nor did she want to share the gravitational pull she felt toward Reece, that selfish urge to distract herself with his smile. She didn’t know if she was ready for Jackie’s shrewd analysis of her friends’ love lives.
“Roger’s freaking out about his commencement address,” she said instead.
Jackie groaned. “That scumbag. Is he still calling at all hours?”
“That’s what I get paid for.” Charlotte sat up and took another swig of the Gatorade. “I don’t know how this speech is going to go; he’s not a great fit for Hein’s student body. I still can’t believe he went here.”
“I can’t believe he’s gonna be on campus. Can I meet him?” Jackie’s grin was devilish.
The idea of Jackie berating Charlotte’s narcissist megamillionaire boss threatened to break her brain. “For the sake of my job, absolutely not.”
Jackie pouted. “You’re no fun. We gotta get you out of there anyway.”
Her best friend loved to talk about how much Charlotte needed to quit her job. Jackie also liked to quit new jobs at the first inconvenience, so, as much as she loved her, Charlotte didn’t put much stock in her advice.
She skimmed Roger’s latest emails: more back-and-forth with the speechwriter, forwarded instructions from Hein’s RC committee about social media coverage of the commencement ceremony, a reminder to reserve a taxi to pick up Roger at the train station. She cc’ed Aubrey into the thread about transportation and closed the app.
Jackie threw a clean towel on the bed. “Put your phone away and go take a shower, I want to get moving.”
Charlotte clambered out of bed. “Crap, I forgot to pack shower shoes.”
Jackie kicked a cheap pair of black flip-flops across the linoleum floor. “Me too. Bought these at CVS this morning en route here.”
“You have lived like five lives today.”
“I ran errands, you lazy bitch. Please go shower, you smell like a frat house.”
SLACK MESSAGE FROM ROGER LUDERMORE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 12:20 PM:need Tim Cook’s email address
Charlotte did feel better after a shower. She’d long suspected that her state of mind was tethered to the cleanliness of her hair: When it was a greasy, tangled mess, she felt cranky and out of sorts.
Ben once told her she should shave it all off, that maybe then she’d be less of a pain in the ass. She bought the infamous jar of Manic Panic as a rare protest against his bullshit. Instead of a funky lilac, her hair wound up a startling silver, almost white. As Jackie said when she helped her rinse the dye in their bathroom sink, “Mistakes were made.”
Her (now naturally graying) hair air-dried in the wind as Jackie raced them across town. She would have a new set of knots to untangle when they got back to campus, but the rush of fresh air across her face felt divine. It’d been ages since she’d driven somewhere. The occasional Uber she sprang for in the city rarely went faster than fifteen miles an hour on the traffic-clogged streets.
“You’re like a dog,” Jackie teased as Charlotte stuck her entire head above the windshield. She laughed and the wind snatched the sound away.
“What are you thinking today?” Jackie chattered on. “I want to sit on the quad and see who looks terrible.”
“Liam got married.”
“Hockey team Liam? To who?”
“High school sweetheart.”
Her best friend shook her head as she processed the new information. “Straight people. Who else is here?”
“Matt and Jio drove up from D.C., they’re still adorable. Amy’s killing it at work. Nina is super in shape, I think she could break me in half.”
“Did Eliza make it?”
“Nah, she couldn’t fly back from Dubai.”
“Thank god, I can only handle so many pining exes this weekend.” Jackie gave her a wry grin and Charlotte shoved her in the shoulder. “Hey, don’t strike the driver!”
“How’s dating in L.A. going?”
“I’m swiping left on that question.” Jackie changed lanes and signaled to turn into the grocery store parking lot. “It’s cool, I wanted to be single for the reunion.”
“Ew, why?” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “You know everyone in our year, and the seniors look like babies. You will not believe how tiny they are.”
Jackie pulled across the boulevard and eased into a space by the front door. She shrugged as she put the top back up on the car. “Maybe there’ll be some wise lesbian in her thirties who wants to adopt a baby gay. I don’t know. I’m down for whatever.”
That captured their entire friendship. Jackie was down for whatever and always had snacks, while Charlotte made skeptical jokes and passed out early.
“Besides,” Jackie added. “I don’t plan on spending the reunion prying you away from your phone.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse from the floor. “I’m not engaging with that.” No matter how many times she reminded Jackie that this weekend was technically a business trip for her, it didn’t seem to sink in. Hopefully there would be plenty of quality best-friend time in between tasks for Roger.
The grocery turned out to be a popular destination. Soon-to-be-graduates ransacked the store’s selection of barbecue charcoal and hot dogs.
While Jackie went off in search of sweets, Charlotte beelined to the chips aisle.
Just as she slid a bag of popcorn into her basket, her phone started blaring. Charlotte maneuvered the basket onto her other arm and dug it out of her pocket. Roger’s dead-eyed headshot stared back at her on the screen.
She held her breath as she took the call.
“Where are we on live tweets for Sunday?” her boss snarled.
Some days she admired Roger’s disregard for polite greetings. Why waste energy on is this a good time or how’s your day going when you could jump right into bossing around your employees?
Charlotte pinned the phone between her shoulder and her ear and grabbed a bag of Doritos from the shelf. “Just waiting on a finished draft from you, and then I can write them up. How’s it going with Peter?”
Roger scoffed. “I got rid of him. He accused me of being out of touch.” He adopted a high-pitched whine as he mocked his speechwriter’s spot-on feedback. “He’s all sensitivity this and appropriateness of venue that. It’s fine, I can write it myself,” Roger continued, working himself up. “Don’t know why I bothered hiring him in the first place. I’m not Steve fucking Jobs, I can put two sentences together.”
Jackie emerged from the next aisle over and gave her a searching look.
Roger,Charlotte mouthed, rolling her eyes. Jackie rolled her eyes and took the basket from Charlotte’s arm.
“Get me those tweets ASAP,” Roger snapped, apparently remembering the reason for his call. He hung up as suddenly as he called, leaving her staring open-mouthed at her phone.
“That looked fun,” Jackie drawled.
Charlotte followed her up the aisle to the register. An exhausted cashier waved them over. Jackie set their plunder down on the counter.
“He fired his speechwriter but still expects me to draft Twitter coverage of a commencement address that does not exist.” Charlotte took out her wallet. Jackie waved her off and handed her credit card to the clerk. “Let me Venmo you for half,” she protested, still uncomfortable with Jackie’s generosity after all these years. Jackie’s love of thrifting wasn’t born from financial necessity—her dad was a hot-shot attorney, and her mom was the most sought-after knee surgeon in Westchester County. The Slaughters never made Charlotte feel like a charity case, but she winced as Jackie signed the receipt.
“Absolutely not,” Jackie declared.
In the end, they stocked their dorm room with Doritos, Oreos, popcorn, party cups, and another pair of four-dollar flip-flops. Not to mention a nice bottle of gin and two bottles of tonic from the liquor store next door.
As Jackie mixed cocktails and organized a tote bag to take to the quad, a wall began to thaw in Charlotte’s chest. What a delight it was to be scolded to put on sunblock by a woman who’d known her for years. Charlotte had friends from work, sure, but no one who badgered her with just the right level of affection and tough love. No one who would tell her that she smelled like ass and give her a bear hug anyway.
Charlotte changed, put her hair in a loose braid, and didn’t bother with makeup. She slid on her beloved aviators.
“Do I look alive?”
Jackie smirked. “Yes. Morning-after chic.”
“What a coincidence, that’s just the vibe I’m going for.” Charlotte took a small sip of the drink Jackie handed her. “Mmm, this is excellent. But I can only have one.” She closed her laptop and stuck it under her arm like a football.
“Are you serious with that? What, are you going to answer emails on the quad?”
Charlotte stuck out her tongue. “It’s called a hotspot, babe. Those tweets aren’t gonna write themselves.”
SLACK MESSAGE FROM AUbrEY PAGE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 2:25 PM:hey do u have tim cooks email rogers freaking out
By the look of the quad, the rest of the Hein Class of 2013 had the same idea. Most of the alumni from last night’s reception, plus twenty or so latecomers, sprawled across the grass on blankets and towels on loan from the RC committee. Charlotte paused on the path to take in the view. It looked as if someone had spread a vast patchwork quilt between Hein’s square of original buildings, the many hues of fabric popping against the Gothic stonework. This was the school’s heart, both historically and socially. Charlotte felt all mushy as she thought of the generations of students who threw Frisbees and held rallies right here where she stood. She couldn’t count the naps she took in the shade of Cauldwell Hall in between classes.
Jackie picked her way through the constellation of classmates, occasionally stopping to say hi to people she knew. Charlotte kept one eye peeled for Ben, but the black hole of his presence was nowhere to be seen. When Jackie got held up by a DJ from the college radio station, Charlotte went on ahead, locating Matt and Jio on a bedsheet.
“Hey, friends.” Her knees complained as she lowered herself onto her butt. “How was the rest of your night?”
Matt moved aside a cheese plate to clear more space for her. “We went to bed early. Traveling knocked me out.”
Jio emerged from behind their phone with a radiant smile. “Sorry, I was working on a post!” They waved an open palm at the gourmet spread. “Help yourself!”
Jio ran digital communications for an environmental conservation nonprofit. Charlotte initially followed the Green Earth Conservatory on Instagram as a favor, but the account delighted her. They had a knack for blending complex policy with pictures of baby pandas. A uniquely millennial career path: memeing the end of the world.
Her other half dropped down onto the blanket, knocking a handful of crackers onto the grass. Charlotte scooped them up and put them in her lap.
“Hey, losers, what’s cooking?” Jackie stole one of the grass crackers and popped it in her mouth.
“Jackie baby! How’s L.A.?” Jio asked.
“Everyone’s really into crystals. How’s D.C.?”
“Gentrified.” Jio mimed vomiting, much to the horror of the wrestling bros sitting on a blanket a few feet away. Matt snickered and squeezed his partner’s knee. “Eat our cheese, it’s not expensive!”
The three of them talked about the D.C. restaurant scene while Charlotte dug sunblock out of their bag. The sun was strong for the end of May; she’d return to Brooklyn looking crispy if she wasn’t careful. She was rubbing lotion into her elbows when Jackie nudged her in the side.
“Would you look at that, a show is starting.”
Reece, Garrett, and some other bros were scoping out an area on the quad to play Frisbee. The hockey alumni had doubled down on college nostalgia. They all wore loose tank tops, the kind with the sleeves cut off. Several sported backward HU baseball caps. Garrett held a can of Miller Lite as he shooed Reece farther across the grass.
Charlotte shivered as she remembered Reece’s breath against her neck last night. That was no normal good-night hug, more like a plea to be convinced. If she had grasped his collar in her fist and pulled him against her, would he let her? Would he kiss her like he used to, all teeth and crackling tension?
The littlest member of the pack abandoned her fellow bros and trotted over to their blanket. Garrett kept one eye on Misty as she settled down beside Charlotte and plopped her tiny head on her knee.
Charlotte scratched behind the dog’s ears and fed her a cracker. “That’s all you get,” she whispered. “Don’t tell your father, he doesn’t like me.”
Misty licked crumbs from her muzzle and blinked in conspiratorial agreement.
While Jackie stretched out on a towel, Charlotte kept herself propped up on her elbows to watch the boys play. Misty burrowed alongside her like a fluffy, uninhibited fox.
It was impossible to focus on anything besides Reece chasing the Frisbee across the quad. He caught it and chucked it to Liam, whose last name she still couldn’t remember. It sailed above Liam’s reaching grasp, forcing him to sprint to retrieve it. Garrett booed and Reece raised his hands in apology, a bashful smile on his face.
“So,” Jackie said.
“So,” Charlotte repeated.
Reece kept laughing. He bent over and rested his hands on his knees like the force of his amusement was too much to bear. She’d forgotten that he laughed like an old man, bellowing and enthusiastic. His laugh always boomed through parties like thunder.
“Can we talk about it yet?” Jackie asked.
Reece yelled instructions at Garrett. Still bent forward, the cords of muscle in his arms stood out as they supported his weight. While he wasn’t the lean, toned jock of his college years, he had the same glorious forearms.
Besides, Charlotte liked his new weight. He looked less wiry now. Like he ate three solid meals a day instead of scarfing a Pop-Tart and some Red Bull on his way to afternoon labs.
“Talk about what?” she asked absently.
“Can we talk about the man you’re currently fellating with your eyes?”
Charlotte whipped her head around, smacking Misty with her braid. The dog snorted before dozing off again. “Jackie, that’s vile.”
Her best friend watched her like a hawk through her sunglasses. “I’m not wrong.”
“I don’t want to fellate him.”
Even as the denial fell from her lips, she couldn’t fight the impulse to watch him gallop around. As Reece leapt in the air to catch a rogue throw, his shirt bounced up to reveal a stretch of his soft stomach. He landed effortlessly, spinning on the balls of his feet to throw the Frisbee back to Liam.
She could lie. She could brush off Jackie’s accusation with some story about wanting to make amends.
But Jackie had watched their non-relationship sputter and die at close range. Who held Charlotte’s hand after the graduation ceremony when everyone else hugged their moms and chased siblings across the grass? Jackie. Whose family took her to dinner at Terry’s Bar to celebrate and insisted on buying her an extra bag of nachos? Jackie’s family.
If there was one person in this world who saw right through her, it was Jackie Slaughter. If Charlotte tried to hide her feelings, Jackie would just shove her sideways into the grass and call her a coward before feeding her more cheese.
When Charlotte and Reece ended, Jackie aligned herself with her roommate (hoes before bros) but maintained a friendship with him over the years. They hung out whenever he visited California, buying cheap tickets to L.A. Kings games and taking selfies in the nosebleed section of the hockey stadium.
Are you sure you don’t mind?Jackie texted her the first time Reece crashed on her couch.
Not at all,Charlotte told her. He’s a good dude.
Laser-focused on building a life for herself in New York, Charlotte never asked her about him. She didn’t like to think about the way she’d left things between them, and she didn’t know what to do with the occasional fun fact from his Instagram: Reece’s car broke down again, Reece has a new girlfriend, Reece is growing a beard. She could almost fool herself into thinking he was some influencer they followed on social media as opposed to the guy she rebounded with after leaving her horrible ex-boyfriend.
Now Jackie reached out to ruffle Charlotte’s hair. She laughed when Charlotte slapped her hands away. “I love you very much, kiddo. Even though you don’t know how to talk about your feelings.”
“Jerk.”
Reece danced backward across the field, his arms outstretched to catch a high throw. The Frisbee breezed past his fingers by a wide margin and he turned around to lope after it, utterly relaxed.
Jackie watched her watching Reece, her eyebrows raised.
“I just want to, like, talk about dogs with him,” Charlotte admitted.
Her friend’s topknot bobbed precariously as she stifled a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s all you want.”
It wasn’t. She wanted to lick from his clavicle down to his groin.
Charlotte sat up to take a sip of her GT. She scowled at the grass between her toes. “Last night was a shit show.”
“I doubt that’s true.”
“No, really. I got all stressed out and he had to walk me back to my room.”
Not that Reece seemed to mind. But had he kept her company out of kindness or desire? She considered how Reece ran his hand over his mouth as he stared at her, and that hug that was more than a hug. She couldn’t have imagined all that sexual magnetism, even if it had been months since she’d gotten laid.
“There was this moment when I thought something might happen, but it just—” She fiddled with the end of her braid. “I don’t know.”
“What?” Jackie prompted. “What don’t you know?”
“We shouldn’t go there.”
Jackie’s eyebrows came together. “Why not?”
Charlotte shrugged. She couldn’t explain how back in college, Reece felt like the solution to her problems until he created even more. When he made her laugh, she stopped hearing the grating loop of Ben’s Greatest Hits in her mind. When she sat in Reece’s lap with her lips at his throat, she didn’t feel quite so powerless, so weak, so worthless. But when he smiled at her in the darkness, she always wondered what he could possibly see in her.
Charlotte remembered how out of control she felt last night when Ben looked over the audience, and how much she wanted to disappear before his eyes found her.
“Seriously, why is it a bad idea?” Jackie demanded. “He’s recently single, you’re tragically single, what’s the issue?”
Charlotte licked her thumb and rubbed a smudge of dirt off her foot.
“Earth to Charlotte. You know how many people are here to hook up with their exes?”
She set her drink down on the ground, careful not to spill. “I’m not here to screw around, I’m here to work.”
Jackie scoffed. “God forbid you take a break. This is our chance to relive the best years of our lives. Maybe a solid orgasm would help you get your priorities straight.”
Charlotte looked around frantically to make sure no one was listening. Jio and Matt were absorbed in Instagram again, discussing some influencer they wanted to partner with at work. The hockey bros argued over a spliff, Reece rolling his eyes as he waited for the game to resume. Misty, well, Misty would keep her secrets because she was a dog.
“I do not want to discuss the merits of sleeping with my ex,” she hissed.
“We weren’t discussing the merits, we were discussing the obstacle that is you being a coward.” Jackie poked her in the shoulder.
Charlotte shoved her wrist away. “Would you stop?”
“If we were discussing the merits,” Jackie continued, undaunted, “we would be talking about his ass, and his excellent hair, and the fact that he still looks at you like you were put on this earth just to ruin his life.”
The description sent heat crawling up her neck as she remembered Reece’s burning eyes, and the way her name fell from his mouth under the fluorescent lights of the hallway. “How would you know how he looks at me?” Charlotte asked, tasting guilt in her throat.
“Because he’s watching us, dummy.”
Charlotte’s eyes found Reece on the field. He indeed watched them like a bemused dad monitoring his squabbling toddlers. He gave her a jaunty wave, and she bit the inside of her cheek before returning it. Reece smiled at her until Garrett sent the Frisbee flying toward his face and he had to duck to avoid it.
Jackie laughed and golf-clapped. “Well done, boys, well done!”
Reece bowed for them before sprinting off to retrieve the disc.
“I hate you,” Charlotte whispered.
Jackie pulled the Doritos out of her tote bag. “You love me,” she corrected. “Eat something, you’re cranky.” Charlotte obediently shoved some chips in her mouth. “Good job. Chew. Swallow. Okay, now walk me through your feelings.”
“I feel irritated.”
“Do not make me pull up the Feelings Chart on my phone.”
“Oh Jesus.” Charlotte threw a hand up in the air. “Fine. I’m confused. Okay? He was all flirty one minute. Then, the next, he went into platonic friend mode like I was just another drinking buddy. He didn’t seem mad at me for how things ended, but then he got all prickly when Ben came up in conversation. And when we wound up alone, he looked at me…”
She trailed off. There was no way to describe the way Reece had stared at her last night.
“Like you were put on this earth to ruin his life,” Jackie repeated.
Charlotte stroked Misty’s fur. “Something like that.” The pup’s steady breathing helped her racing heart rate slow.
Jackie ran the tip of her index finger around the rim of her cup. “When it comes to Reece, it’s probably safe to assume he’s always flirting with you.”
Charlotte studied Reece as best as she could from a distance. He stood still, waiting for Liam to fetch another runaway throw, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. His threadbare tank top revealed the hard planes of his shoulders.
Another stowaway detail returned: the memory of her fingernails digging into his back. A lost night in the bathroom at a house party, her shorts on the floor, her ass at risk of falling into the sink.
“Maybe,” she said. She took a deep drink of her cocktail but still felt parched.
Jackie stared at her, her expression unreadable. After a long pause, she said, “Unless it’s not his feelings you’re worried about.”
Charlotte set her cocktail in the grass, a tremor in her hands. “What?”
“Maybe this isn’t about Reece at all. You’re surprised you had feelings for him in the first place. And you still do.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “You’re making me sound like a dick.”
“When the dick fits—”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
In college her feelings for Reece were simple: pure, uncomplicated attraction. She knew he wasn’t capable of being anyone’s boyfriend, especially on the weekend, when he lived in the margins between hungover and trashed. He had a reputation as a respectful but restless flirt, never getting involved with a woman for more than a few weeks. Too sweet to be a fuckboy, but too gorgeous and sloppy not to break some hearts.
The first time they hooked up in some dark corner at Amy’s birthday party, there was nothing romantic about it. They’d been sitting next to each other at 3Ds meetings for months, exchanging looks and keeping their small talk light outside of group discussion. Charlotte knew she wasn’t ready to date again, but Reece didn’t seem to want a relationship either. When he asked her to dance that night at Acronym, he made it so easy to say yes. Charlotte sank into the sensation of him: raspy stubble and searching green eyes. Her brain had no room for other thoughts. Reece left a bite mark on her neck that made her look like she’d been mauled by a bear.
Charlotte admired his broad shoulders and his ability to distract her whenever she needed it. If she invited him over on a weeknight, he showed up within twenty minutes of a text message and never slept over. He was a casual but generous hookup who prioritized her comfort and her pleasure just as much as his own, if not more—a precious rarity in college. After Ben, who whined for sex acts she wasn’t comfortable exploring, she appreciated that Reece understood that no was a complete sentence.
Sure, she’d cared about Reece. She liked bantering with him, and communicating silently with their eyebrows during 3Ds meetings, and eating junk food together after a raucous party. He gave other members of the support group weirdly good advice, remembering minor details of their family dynamics that even Charlotte forgot. Spending time with Reece was comfortable. She didn’t have to brace herself for critical comments or worry about accidentally provoking him, the way she had with Ben. She never forgot that they had no future, bound for separate lives in different cities, but that didn’t mean their present hadn’t been fun. And then that present became the past.
This was something really great, before it wasn’t.
Maybe she’d had feelings for Reece, once upon a time. Maybe Charlotte actually liked him, and it terrified her to be vulnerable after everything Ben had put her through. But that didn’t mean she felt the same way now.
Did she?
Her instincts screamed at her to change the subject. Maybe she felt a lot of things, and she didn’t like it one bit. She wanted to shove those colorful, kaleidoscoping feelings in a shiny new storage container and not let them see the sun.
On the field, Reece threw his body after the Frisbee and collapsed in a heap. His laughter boomed across the quad. She watched him roll over and hold the disc aloft, victorious.
How long had it been since she’d felt as much as she did last night? How long had it been since she felt present in her own life, alert and exposed and wanting?
Jackie watched her patiently. Misty continued to huff and pant at her side, her warmth a soothing reminder of where she was. They were the two living beings in this world least likely to judge her. And she didn’t want to carry this embarrassment alone.
Charlotte picked at the dry skin around her fingernails. “Ben is here.”
Jackie lurched forward, her eyes sharp. All trace of tough love vanished from her voice. “What? I thought he wasn’t registered.”
“He was on the English majors’ panel with Amy last night. I had to leave out the back.”
“That prick…” Jackie hissed through her teeth. “Honey, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
No. I’m not.
“It’s fine.” Charlotte addressed her answer to Misty’s dark eyes. “It’s been years.”
It didn’t feel like years when Ben sat at the front of the lecture hall, surveying the crowd like his kingdom. It felt like only days had passed since he last sneered in her face, his voice pitched low so that no one would overhear him. She was the one who initiated their breakup after eight months of agony, but Ben made sure to get the last word. He always did.
Misty licked Charlotte’s palm, demonstrating that eerie canine ability to pick up on people’s moods. That or Charlotte still had some brie on her hands. She rubbed Misty’s long ears. Her fur was blissfully soft, like a cashmere baby sock.
“Don’t let him ruin this weekend for you,” Jackie urged her. “You’re free of him and his entitled, nasty shit. For the first time in five years, you and I are together on campus with all our friends. We are going to have the time of our gay little lives.” She tilted her head to catch Charlotte’s eye. “You deserve some fun. You hear me?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” Misty wriggled and curled up on her side, her ear slipping from between Charlotte’s fingers.
Apparently satisfied by the interrogation-slash-therapy-session, Jackie lay back down on her towel and slid her huge sunglasses back on. “I’m going to nap now. Have fun ogling Reece.”
Charlotte scrunched up her face like an angry pug, miffed by Jackie’s ability to be so annoying and so correct, but her best friend waved her off. Dismissed, she dug her phone out of her bag to set up the wifi hotspot. She scowled when she saw yet more messages from Aubrey and her boss.
How the hell was she supposed to know Tim Cook’s email address? Did Roger think she and good old Timmy Apple traded The Bachelor memes on a regular basis?
She opened her laptop and waited for Slack to load.
SLACK MESSAGE FROM CHARLOTTE THORNE TO AUbrEY PAGE, 3:02 PM:I just messaged Roger, I don’t have it. Tell him to look through his phone.
She skimmed her inbox for fires demanding her immediate attention, or anything from HR about the art department job. The project manager gig would utilize Charlotte’s skills at herding unruly people. Keeping a detailed spreadsheet of incoming requests for art for the magazine wouldn’t feed her soul, but it was better than constantly worrying about Roger tweeting something offensive. She would report to the art director, a boring but civil man named Pietre who did not call his direct reports after hours.
Matt and Jio brushed crumbs off the empty cheese platter and into the grass. Misty sniffed around for morsels to snack on. “We’re going to get some water,” Matt said quietly, not wanting to disturb Jackie. “Can you watch our stuff?”
Charlotte nodded. She watched as the duo walked back to Randall, Jio’s arm slung around Matt’s waist.
Her computer made the tock-tock notification sound.
SLACK MESSAGE FROM AUbrEY PAGE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 3:10 PM:lol ok
How professional.
“Good news?”
Charlotte looked up from the screen. Reece stood beside her, his hands at his hips. The sun burst just over his shoulder, silhouetting him in gold. With difficulty, she averted her eyes from the rope of muscle in his shoulders. “Not exactly. My boss has separation anxiety.”
Reece frowned as he sat down in the grass next to her. No, Reece didn’t sit. He sprawled, his legs long and his feet bare, toes wiggling in the sun. He leaned his weight back on his palms, fingers spreading through the grass. This was a guy who knew how to relax.
“That sucks,” Reece commiserated, his eyes bright. “Want to see a puppy?”
Charlotte pushed her computer off her lap and onto the blanket. “Always.”
He took out his phone and scooted closer. His shoulder brushed hers as he scrolled through his photo roll. Charlotte bit her lip. She could smell him again, that boyish aroma of laundry and coffee, now with the earthy sheen of sweat. His posture gave no hint that he was upset about last night, or that he even remembered their close call outside her room. She was aware of every touching millimeter of skin while Reece showed no sign that their proximity even crossed his mind.
“Here we go.” He turned the screen toward her. A wrinkled blob of short gray fur peered back at her. “This is Joey. He’s some kind of pit bull mix.”
“He is darling.” Charlotte’s hand rose to her chest, covering her heart. “How old is he, eight weeks?”
Reece swiped to another picture, this one of Joey swaddled in a blue baby blanket covered in cartoon ducklings. Charlotte cooed, a human heart-eye emoji.
“We think so. Someone left him in a box outside the clinic. Mom found him shivering in the cold. We weren’t sure he would make it.”
“He looks like he’s thriving now. What a li’l tough guy.”
“He had a respiratory infection, but he’s doing okay now. We’re fostering him until he finds his forever home.”
Reece swiped again: In a smiling selfie, he had Joey zipped into his hoodie. The puppy licked Reece’s neck, his nose a perky pink. “I like to carry him around in my sweatshirt pocket,” Reece said. “Mom calls it my Joey pouch.”
“Stop, you’re going to kill me.” She covered her face in her hands, a sigh falling from her lips. “I would die for Joey. I would lay down my life for Joey.”
From between her fingers, she saw Reece’s grin widen into a full just-for-Charlie classic. “He needs a mommy,” he said with a shameless eyebrow waggle. “He’ll love you for life.”
Charlotte’s heart thundered. She hadn’t been subjected to the full force of Reece Krueger’s charm in years. The playful glint in his eyes had grown finer with age, more roguish than boyish. “Don’t tempt me,” she said, color rising in her cheeks again.
His arched eyebrow clued her in that he’d picked up on her double meaning. He sat close enough to hear her breath quicken, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if he’d acknowledge the frisson of attraction between them. It didn’t have the heaviness of last night’s dark magnetism. This felt fun and easy, their rapport laced with humor.
Jackie was right. This was undeniably flirting.
Her phone trilled with a notification.
Reece blinked like someone had turned the lights on at a dark party. Charlotte tore her eyes from his soft mouth and leaned over to squint at her computer.
SLACK MESSAGE FROM AUbrEY PAGE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 3:26 PM:roger needs post-its
“Oh for goodness’ sake.”
Reece read over her shoulder as she typed furiously. “Your boss again?”
SLACK MESSAGE FROM CHARLOTTE THORNE TO AUbrEY PAGE, 3:27 PM:They’re in the supply closet.
“My assistant. Technically Roger’s second assistant, who reports to me.”
Reece frowned. “Important guy to need two assistants.”
She gave him a strained look. “That’s what he likes to think.”
SLACK MESSAGE FROM AUbrEY PAGE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 3:28 PM:where is that
Charlotte turned her laptop toward him. “She’s worked at Front End for six months and doesn’t know where the supply closet is.”
He hummed in sympathy. “Can’t she figure it out by herself?”
“You’d think so, but no.”
“REECE!” Garrett watched them from the field, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look impressed by their tête-à-tête. “We need you, bro!”
At the sound of her owner’s voice, Misty leapt to her feet and bounded across the field. Garrett leaned down and ruffled her fur, his hostility dissolving. Asshole or not, the dude loved his dog.
“Oops. Busted.” Reece gave her a guilty smile.
Charlotte’s heart sputtered and lurched—he was hitting on her. Intentionally. Otherwise what would he have to feel guilty about?
“Good luck with the Post-it crisis.”
“Thanks,” she said as he hopped to his feet. “And thank you for the pup talk.”
Damn, his smile.
“Anytime.” Then he bounded off toward his friends, the back of his shorts grass-stained. “I’m coming,” he yelled at Garrett, who rolled his eyes and chucked the Frisbee in his direction.
Charlotte laughed as Reece missed the catch, and he turned to give her another clumsy bow before darting after it.
There was a snort to her right. Charlotte turned to find Jackie watching her with a blatant I told you so face.
“You’re a goner.”
Charlotte leveled her with a death glare. It did nothing to cancel out her blush. “I knew you weren’t asleep.”