Betting on You(40)

But I knew those thoughts made me sound like a lovesick child, so it was easier to just keep it all in my own head.

Which was why it was really strange that at that moment, it felt safe to share with Charlie. I gave a half shrug and said, “No. He’s seeing someone else now.”

I would’ve expected Charlie to snicker about how pathetic I was, but he didn’t. He gave a little nod as the light turned green, and instead said, “So why aren’t you over him?”

“I don’t know,” I said defensively, irritated that he sounded just like Nekesa.

“No—I’m not being a dick.” He held up a hand as if trying to reframe his words. “What I mean, um, is that most of the time, if a couple has a normal breakup, even if there are still feelings, they each move on. So if a smart girl like you can’t move on, there’s usually a reason. An extenuating circumstance.”

I narrowed my eyes, wishing I could see into his brain. “What do you mean?”

“Take me,” he said, looking embarrassed and lowering his voice. “Bec still texts me all the time—only as a friend—but sometimes it feels a lot like when we were together, and it’s a bit of a mindfuck.”

“Oh, shit,” I said, picturing Becca’s face, wondering if she was playing games with him. I’d met her for only a minute so I had no idea, but I hoped she wasn’t intentionally keeping him on the line, keeping his heart tied up with her so he couldn’t move on.

“Right?” He half smiled, but it wasn’t happy or amused. It was self-deprecating, as if to say I am a stupid man. “So I was just wondering if there is a reason for you to still be hanging on.”

I looked at his pain-in-the-ass Charlie face and thought how strange it was that this was more of an emotional conversation about the breakup than I’d had with Nekesa or anyone else, for that matter. I took a deep breath and said, “With us, the breakup was a mistake.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I know—that sounds like a typical ex-girlfriend thing to say. But it’s true.” I went on to tell him about how I’d broken up with Zack when I was mad, fully expecting we’d get back together, but Zack had taken it as the final death knell for our relationship and started dating. As Charlie pulled the car to a stop in front of a house—Clio’s, presumably—I said, “So I kind of feel like we aren’t done.”

“Ah.” He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. His eyes moved over my face as he asked, “And you’ll take him back if he asks you to?”

That… was a good question. I felt like it was a yes, but Charlie’s question made me realize that I still had some issues with the way Zack had been able to just move on from me. If he cared about me even half as much as I cared about him, shouldn’t it have taken a little time? Shouldn’t he have tried harder before giving up?

“Probably,” I admitted, knowing it was the wrong answer while also knowing I meant it. “What about you? Would you take Becca back if she asked?”

“Here!” Clio popped forward, leaning up between our seats, and said, “We’re here! This is my house.”

“That is correct,” Charlie said to his tipsy friend, but his eyes stayed on me. He gave me a little closed-mouth smile, like an acknowledgment of our shared heartaches, before pulling the keys from the ignition and opening his door. “Let’s get you inside, Miss Clio.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Bailey




I opened the door to the apartment and was surprised to see that the living room lights were still on. My mother was rarely awake at midnight, so I shot Charlie a look of dread. I’d gone inside with Clio to make sure she made it quietly up to her room—which she did—but that had made me nice and late.

We cut through the kitchen, and when we stepped into the living room, my mom and Scott were sitting side by side on the couch. The TV was on, but they were looking at me like they’d been waiting for me to appear in the doorway.

“Hey, night owls,” I said, pasting on what I hoped was a laid-back smile. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Bay,” my mom said, looking pissed. My heart hiccupped a bit—she rarely got mad at me—and she said, “Midnight means midnight.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” I glanced at Scott, who was glaring at something behind me.

Someone.

He looked like he was trying to kill Charlie with orbital laser beams.

“We ended up having to give one of Charlie’s friends a ride home at the last minute—that’s the only reason we were late.”

“But it’s your job to factor that stuff in when accounting for your curfew, sweetie.” My mom crossed her arms and said, “Part of that whole if-you’re-old-enough-to-stay-out-till-midnight thing.”

“I know.” Why is she busting my ass? My mother was usually incredibly understanding, especially since I rarely went out aside from coffee shop/bookstore visits. “It was last minute. Charlie could see she wasn’t okay to drive, so he took her keys and insisted—”

“The girl was drunk?” Scott asked, as if I’d just proclaimed that the girl had murdered someone.

I felt my forehead wrinkle as I wondered why the hell Crew Socks was inserting himself into my life. I cleared my throat and said, “Well, I wouldn’t call her drunk exactly—”