10 #2
“Mi hada, look at me.”
“I was wrong.”
“Charm.”
“I was such an asshole.”
“Okay.” I kept my hands firm at her waist while trying to create enough space to see her. “Slow down.”
She finally lifted her head.
“I should’ve called you. I should’ve answered you.
I shouldn’t have said any of that shit about other women because I don’t think that about you, and I knew I didn’t think it while I was saying it.
I was angry because you kept stopping, and it hurt.
I wanted you to hurt enough to understand how it felt. ”
The softness in my face tightened around the memory.
Her showing up mattered. It didn’t erase the words, but it mattered.
“I knew that part hurt you.”
Shame moved across her face, and she looked down. “I’m sorry.”
My fingers tightened slightly at her waist.
Cade cleared his throat somewhere behind us.
Charm turned her head and seemed to realize for the first time how quiet the lobby had become. Cade, Briggs, Easton, and Rider still stood where she left them, along with enough Frost players to make her face change color.
Briggs rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. “Maybe you two should take this upstairs.”
I looked over her shoulder at them, then returned my attention to Charm. “Yeah.”
One of the Frost players checked his phone. “Bus is still midnight.”
Charm looked toward him, then at me. “Bus?”
“We’re heading to Milwaukee.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.”
Her face fell as she looked toward the clock above the lobby desk.
“You’re leaving in less than an hour?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at me, suddenly furious at time itself. “I drove all the way here, and you have fifty-something minutes?”
A corner of my mouth moved despite everything. “That sounds like you’re blaming me for the schedule.”
“I might be.”
“Fair.”
I bent, picked up the duffel, and reached for her hand with the other.
Her eyes dropped toward it.
For the smallest second, fear moved through me. The lobby was full of people, and this was the moment that mattered more than her running into my arms while emotion carried her.
This choice was quieter.
Charm placed her hand in mine and held on.
“Come upstairs.”
I threaded our fingers together and led her toward the elevators while Briggs called something behind us about them heading out. Charm’s grip tightened instead of loosening.
I felt it.
Three nights earlier, she pulled away when strangers looked. Tonight, she crossed state lines and held my hand in front of teammates, friends, hotel staff, and half the damn lobby.
I noticed every fucking thing she did.
When the elevator doors closed, I stopped pretending the last three days hadn’t gotten under my skin.
They had.
I spent most of the drive to Flint telling myself Charm needed space and I would respect it because that was what I asked for. Then she started answering me like I was somebody she barely knew, and every clipped response scraped harder than the one before it.
I kept telling myself not to read too much into it. She was overwhelmed. She was pissed. She was thinking.
None of that stopped me from checking my phone every time it buzzed. It didn’t stop me from noticing when she didn’t call or feeling like a fucking idiot when I sent I miss talking to you and got nothing back.
Now Charm stood beside me with her hand wrapped around mine.
She glanced at me once before looking down at our fingers.
I felt her grip tighten.
That tiny movement hit harder than it should have.
She had crossed a hotel lobby full of people who mattered to both of us and chosen me where everyone could see.
I understood how much that cost her, but some wounded part of me still needed to know whether tonight was the beginning of something she could keep doing or one grand gesture fear would erase the next time Lance entered the room.
When the elevator reached my floor, I led her toward my room without saying much because I didn’t trust myself yet.
The team bus left in less than an hour, my duffel was half-packed, and Charm had apparently driven four hours on a Wednesday night because she finally decided silence was worse than whatever happened when she reached me.
That made me want to kiss her senseless.
It also made me want to shake her.
I opened the hotel room and stepped aside.
Charm walked in slowly, taking in the open suitcase on the bed and the Frost gear scattered across the chair. She looked nervous again now that we were alone, which might have been funny if I hadn’t spent three days missing the exact version of her standing in front of me.
She turned. “I’m sorry.”
I closed the door. “I know.”
“No, I really am.”
“I heard you downstairs.”
She rubbed her palms against her jeans, then caught herself and folded her hands together. “I was horrible.”
“You were scared.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
I leaned against the door and watched her.
Her apology carried no polished performance and no carefully selected words designed to give me the response she thought I wanted. Charm looked miserable because she finally understood what she had done.
I didn’t want her hurting. I needed to know my hurt mattered too.
“I shouldn’t have accused you of sleeping with other women,” she said. “You never gave me a reason to think that. You actually gave me every reason not to think it, and I still used it because I knew it would hurt you.”
I crossed my arms. “It did.”
Her face tightened. “I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
I held her gaze. “I’ve had three days to think about it too.”
Charm looked surprised, and that almost irritated me.
“You think you’re the only one who had a shitty three days?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Exactly.”
I pushed away from the door and walked farther into the room. “I spent the whole first day trying not to text you too much because I told you I’d give you space. Then you answered me like I was fucking customer service.”
Her mouth twitched despite herself. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I was embarrassed.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t know how to talk to you.”
“I know that too.”
I stopped in front of her. “Don’t mistake me giving you room for not being affected.”
She looked down. “I missed you.”
The words came quietly.
I released a breath. “Yeah. I missed you too.”
Charm lifted her eyes, and something softened between us.
I could’ve left it there.
I didn’t.
“I’m still not changing what I said.”
Her face fell slightly. “That’s not why I came.”
“Good.”
“I came because you were right.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t enjoy it.”
“That’s impossible.”
The smallest laugh slipped out before she sobered.
“My mom came over today.”
I remembered what Charm’s face looked like whenever Crystal’s opinion became too loud inside her head. “What happened?”
“She didn’t even do anything.”
That answer told me more than a list of criticisms would have.
Charm walked toward the window before turning back.
“I was in a robe. My hair was a mess. There were coffee cups on the table. The apartment wasn’t even bad, but the second she walked in, I started explaining everything.
I was apologizing for the blanket, the cups, and not being dressed, and she hadn’t said anything. ”
My jaw tightened.
Charm laughed once without humor. “Then I heard you in my head.”
“That sounds traumatic.”
She ignored me. “You said I’m always waiting for someone to tell me what I did wrong before they even do it.”
“I did.”
“She asked me to lunch.”
I watched her carefully.
“I told her no.”
That made me straighten, and Charm noticed.
“I also told her she should call before showing up.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “Who are you, and what did you do with Charmagne?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m proud of you.”
That wiped the sarcasm from her face as her eyes turned glossy.
Fuck.
I stepped closer. “I mean it.”
“I almost took it back.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Then that matters.”
She swallowed. “That’s when I realized what you meant.”
I waited while Charm looked at me like she was trying to speak without wrapping the truth in enough explanation to make it safe.
“You wouldn’t have cared.”
“About what?”
“The robe, the apartment, or the coffee cups.”
I smiled. “I would’ve cared about the robe.”
That earned a real laugh.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She shook her head. “I mean you wouldn’t have thought I failed some kind of test.”
“No.”
“You would’ve kissed me.”
“Immediately.”
Her mouth trembled. “I realized I’ve spent my whole life trying to be ready before anyone sees me. You don’t care if I’m ready.”
“I care if you’re you.”
The words reached her.
Charm looked away, and I stepped closer before touching her chin lightly until she faced me again.
“I don’t need five versions of you.”
Her brows pulled together.
“I don’t need polished Charm for your parents, funny Charm for Bliss and Aura, nervous Charm for school, sexy Charm for me, and whatever version you think makes everybody else comfortable. I want you.”
Her eyes filled. “All of me?”
“All of you.”
I let my hand slide to the side of her neck. “I’m still serious about what I said. I know your family is complicated. They get in your head, and you spent years being trained to care about the noise around you.”
Charm nodded.
“I’ve got your back through that.”
Her expression softened.
“But I can’t commit to something deeper with you until I know you can handle that noise without letting it decide whether I matter.”
She flinched slightly, and I kept my voice even.
“You don’t have to stop caring what they think overnight. I’m not asking you to become somebody you’re not.”
“I know.”
“I’m asking you to know what you think before everybody else gets a vote.”
She exhaled slowly. “What happens if I don’t?”
“Then I’m still here.”
Charm looked surprised.
“I like you,” I said. “I’m not disappearing because you’re complicated.”
“You made it sound like all or nothing.”
“I meant eventually.”