Betting on You(48)

“I have to get off the phone, but I’m adding you to the chat.”

“But do you—”

She had already hung up as my phone pinged from her text.

I looked down at the display as she sent me screenshots of their conversation.

The chain started with Nekesa texting—I can’t go to Breck—Bay is going to kill me.

After she explained what happened, and Theo tried making her feel better (catch up on your reading, troublemaker), Charlie texted—Bay’s gonna be devastated. You sure your parents won’t reconsider?

Something about his concern made me feel warm inside.

Nekesa: Positive

Charlie: So she’ll have to spend the trip with just her mom and Sock Boy. Fucking nightmare.

Nekesa: You should go in my place.

It felt surreal, reading their conversation; I felt like I was eavesdropping, even though I had permission.

Charlie: Dude hates me—try again.

I don’t know why, but it felt good that his initial response wasn’t something like No way.

Theo: Wait—that would totally amp the mom/boyfriend tension, tho, right?

Nekesa: YESSSSS OMG GO, AND FAKE DATE

Charlie: FAKE DATE. Are we in a fucking Hallmark movie?? How would that help?

Thank you, Charlie! At least it wasn’t just me who thought the idea was totally bonkers.

Theo: If the bf hates you, he’ll hate you more if you’re holding her hand bc it means you’re not going away anytime soon. VERY threatening to his territory.

I rolled my eyes, feeling that claustrophobia again at the thought of me and/or my mom being Scott’s “territory.”

Charlie: Okay—that would definitely make the guy lose his shit. BUT. Odds are good he’ll just say no to me going.

Scott would say that.

Nekesa: Bailey and I were going to drive out after work tomorrow and meet them. So basically he won’t know you’re coming until you get there, and he can’t say no if you’re already in Colorado.

Was I—Bailey, who doesn’t let others cut in line—ballsy enough to just show up with him? Could I be? Did I want to be?

Charlie: That will definitely add to the tension, holy shit.

And that’s when I chimed in with: DEFINITELY. HOLY SHIT.

Theo: Bailey’s here!

Charlie: Even though it’s HOLY SHIT, I’ll do it if you want me to, Bay.

I squeaked in disbelief—or anxiousness or nervousness—because this idea felt like something that might actually happen.

And I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to or not.

Nekesa: DO ITTTTT I’m dying to hear what happens.

I texted: You’d seriously give up a few days of break? And pretend to be my boyfriend???

Seemed like a really big ask.

Theo: He’d pretend to loooooove you.

“Shut up, Theo,” I muttered to no one in the darkness.

Nekesa: You’re such an idiot. ;)

Charlie: I’d be in Colorado—that’s a big old HELL YES from me.

My phone started ringing—Charlie—and I answered with, “But he’ll probably be a dick to you the whole time.”

“I can handle it,” Charlie said, his voice gravelly like he’d been sleeping before the call.

“Hmmm.” I seriously didn’t know what to do. On paper, what Nekesa/Charlie/Theo were proposing could potentially help my Scott dilemma and make the weekend fun(ish). But there were so many other things to worry about.

My mom’s and Scott’s reaction when Charlie got there—that was an explosion of unhappiness guaranteed to happen. Traveling with Charlie for eight hours; been there, done that, and it wasn’t remotely enjoyable.

And—the biggie—pretending to date Charlie.

Our friendship was safe because it was labeled as only that. Friends. Hell, he labeled it not even that; he labeled us as just coworkers.

So what would happen when we played relationship for a weekend? It might be fine and just return to normal when we got home, but what if it didn’t? What if we crossed a line that we couldn’t come back from?

“Bay, if you don’t want me to, that’s totally fine.”

I didn’t know what I wanted. Taking Charlie sounded like fun and I didn’t want to go alone, but the thought of it set off screechingly loud alarm bells.

“Um,” I said, opening my nightstand drawer and digging for the coral nail polish while I tried to decide. “Well, for starters, I’m just afraid you’re saying yes to be nice.”

“Do I ever do that?” he asked dryly.

I smiled in spite of my nerves because that was a loaded question. He didn’t do things just to be nice, but he was also surprisingly thoughtful sometimes.

A walking contradiction, Charlie Sampson. “Well, no.”

“I think it sounds like a blast,” he said, “but if you’d rather not, it’s totally cool.”

I thought about the weekend, staying in a condo with just my mom and Scott, and I said, “I really want you to go, but I wonder if I should ask—”

“Nope,” Charlie said, cutting me off. “You do whatever you want about the weekend, but if you ask them, they will for sure say no. If we pull up in Breck, though, with you in my car, they can’t really send me back.”

There it was again—the ginormously ballsy move that I wasn’t sure I could pull off. I closed the drawer and flopped back onto my pillows. “That is positively diabolical.”