3. Chapter 3
Charlotte
After being blindsided at dinner about an end of season ball, and with a lot of convincing—including a phone pep talk from Wren—I’m squeezed into the most beautiful red silk dress I have ever seen.
I have to give the girls credit; I feel a million dollars in it.
It’s floor length with off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline that actually makes me look like I have some cleavage.
Alyssa is currently doing my makeup while Kayla is curling my hair. I am so overwhelmed right now my chest is tightening and my hands are starting to tremble. Alyssa notices and stops what she’s doing. “Babe, calm down. It’s ok. We’re going to have a great time tonight.” She squeezes my hand.
“What if I get separated from you? I don’t know anyone,” I squeak, my panic rising.
“Charlie, we won’t leave you. We promise. And besides, with how good you’re looking, Jake is going to be stuck to you like a fly on shit.” Kayla twirls the curling iron around a piece of hair.
What do they mean by that? Do they mean he’ll think I’m good enough to be his date? My heart clenches at the thought.
My bubble bursts when Alyssa says “Yeah, you know how protective he gets over you. All big brotherly and shit.”
As my heart deflates at her words, I try to school the look of disappointment that’s desperate to spread across my face.
Big brotherly. Got it.
Fixing the scarlet sequin and crystal mask to my face, I prepare to leave the safety of the car Jake provided for us. It’s only me and the girls. The guys went ahead of us as we were “taking too long to get ready.”
When Kayla and Alyssa were finished with me, I barely recognized myself in the mirror.
I looked so glamorous and polished, something I’m not used to being.
Let’s hope I can walk in these heels. At the moment, I feel like a child taking their first steps.
If I make it the whole night without twisting or breaking my ankle, it will be a miracle.
The driver rounds the car and opens the door, lending me a hand to get out so I don’t fall flat on my face, followed by Kayla and Alyssa, who move to either side of me and link arms. There are a few paparazzi here, but no one pays us any attention as we’re not the stars, which suits me just fine.
As we walk in, I take in the tables adorned with candelabras and feathers, dark fabrics cover the walls and ceilings.
It screams money and opulence. I feel like I’ve been thrust into the lovechild of Bridgerton and Moulin Rouge, and in this dress and mask, I actually fit in instead of being the outsider.
There are waiters walking around with glasses of champagne and canapes, and I quickly snag a glass, desperate to take the edge off. Downing it, I reach for another when Kayla’s hand lands on mine. “Slow down, babe, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
Taking no notice, I swallow the fizzy liquid while she and Alyssa share a look of concern over my behavior.
“It’s my birthday, girls. I thought we were having fun?” I say, careful not to slur my words so early into the night. I’m known for not being able to hold my liquor.
They shrug back at me, and Alyssa grabs a couple more glasses. “You know what they say? If you can’t beat them, join them.” For the next few hours, I dance, drink and have a great time with my friends, letting go for the first time in a long time.
I keep looking around for Jake, and every time I catch a glimpse, he’s being pulled from person to person—no doubt sponsors or management wanting to monopolize his time.
I just wish his time was spent with me. I keep seeing him look my way, like he’s desperate to get to me, but he can’t seem to make it happen.
Stumbling to the bathroom to reapply my lipstick, I look at myself in the mirror; my cheeks are flushed and there is a sparkle in my eye.
I know I’m drunk, but not so drunk I don’t know what I’m doing.
I check the time on my phone, 11:50 p.m. Ten minutes left of my birthday and I want to spend it with Jake.
I’ll pull him away from all those people if I have to.
As I head out back toward the dancefloor, I spot him waiting for me.
His mask is reminiscent of the Phantom of the Opera and covers half his face, but I’d recognize him anywhere, and it seems the same goes for him.
I haven’t seen him all night, and god is he handsome in his black tuxedo.
My heart skips a beat, and I automatically bring my hand to my chest to steady myself.
“Hey, Lotts.” My face flames as he kisses my cheek. “I didn’t think I was ever going to get a moment with you. You want to dance?”
I can’t find my words, so I simply nod as he leads me out onto the dance floor. The look in his eyes isn’t one I’ve seen before; they’re hooded, and his pupils are dilated. Maybe it’s the dress? The makeup? Whatever it is, he’s never looked at me this way before, and I love it.
Hesitantly, I wrap my hands around his neck and he pulls me close, so close I can feel every hard plane of his body. Even through his tux, it feels incredible. His head is burrowed in my neck as my head leans against his chest, hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat.
The country twang of Jason Aldean’s “You Make It Easy” plays as we sway side to side.
We dance in silence, letting the words surround us until Jake speaks into my ear, “You look so beautiful, Lottie. Every man in this room is looking at you right now, wishing they were the lucky bastard getting to dance with you.”
My cheeks heat further at his words; he’s never spoken to me like this before.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s told me I’m pretty over the years, but it’s never had this heat, this intensity behind it.
My hands reach up into his hair and I pull his gaze to mine.
His words and the alcohol coursing through me are making me confident, and I take a chance.
“There’s only one man I want looking at me. ”
Strong calloused hands cup my face, bringing our lips so close I can feel his breath on mine.
This is it.
It’s happening.
My first ever kiss.
A tap on Jake’s shoulder halts our lips from touching. He turns around, where a beautiful brunette woman—one I’ve seen photographed with him before in those gossip rags Alyssa likes to read—is standing with a smug smile on her face, knowing she’s interrupted something important.
Totally disregarding me, she smoothes her hands over the lapels of his suit jacket and purrs, “Jake, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.” She pouts her filler-stuffed lips at him.
Why isn’t he pushing her away? Maybe I was imagining everything? Either that or I’m drunker than I thought. God, I’m so pathetic, embarrassing myself enough for one night, I’ve seen all I need to see. My eyes start to glass over. I will not cry in front of him and this bitch.
The temperature plummets, and I shudder as I drop his hand and slip out of his hold.
I feel like I’m about to throw up, my face burning so hot you could fry an egg on it.
As I move to walk away, Jake grabs my hand again.
“Lottie, where are you going?” He’s scanning my face whilst she’s still clinging to him as a lion does to its prey.
I remove my hand from his, straighten myself, and in my calmest voice, I manage to get out, “I just remembered, I said I’d call Wren before midnight, and I don’t have a lot of time left. If you’ll excuse me.”
With that, I walk as quickly as I can. Stumbling in these godforsaken heels toward the exit and my rideshare. Once I’m settled in the backseat, ignoring my phone pinging constantly, I remove my mask and let the tears fall.