You're to Blame(14)

“Yeah?” My eyes cast down to her hand on mine. Why do I sound like such a girl? Maybe I should ask her to have a fucking slumber party next and she can paint my nails. The slumber party doesn’t sound half bad.

Charlotte pulls away. The lack of warmth on my hand pulls me from my day dream of having a little pillow time. Her eyes shift from side to side. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. After all, I’m the one who tried to mend the fence earlier today.”

The idea of us being in close proximity makes her uneasy. We’re unfamiliar to each other, and all of our interactions have been a back and forth, a rather fun pull and tug.

“Friends then?” I offer my hand and smirk.

Charlotte accepts the gesture. Her hand is tiny within mine. “Friends then.” She stands and pulls her phone from her purse, handing it to me. I program my number and text myself to get hers. “I better go though.” My heart races when she glances over her shoulder. A twinkle sets in her eyes.

“See you around.” I nod.

Charlotte walks under the red EXIT sign, smiling at me before slipping out of sight.

Nothing good can come of Charlotte and me being around each other. A few large gulps of hot coffee burn my throat. I accept the heat as a punishment for being such a colossal dumbass.

*****

After our weekly family Sunday dinner, I drive Lydia and Randy back to the bar. The tradition started right after Lydia started at Murphy’s. She said we needed a way to bond. Since I can’t cook, and everyone agrees on food, a weekly dinner seemed like a no brainer.

I pull into the parking lot and push the gear shift into park.

“You’re a fucking idiot. You know that, right?” Lydia shifts, and all of her attention is focused solely on me.

What I want to do is pop open the door and shove her ass out, but she’s quick on the rebound and would pounce back in here to finish the lecture she’d started over dinner.

“I don’t want to hear it. What’s done is done,” I insist, glancing at Randy in the rearview mirror.

“She has a point, man.” Randy shrugs, not being much help.

“What’s your motive?” Lydia scrolls through her phone, pretending to be completely uninterested in the question she asks and then tucks it into her front pocket.

“No motive,” I insist. “I owe it to Jacob.”

“To look at his girlfriend like she’s a Thanksgiving dinner?” Randy jokes, slapping me on the back of my head.

“I do not.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, and Randy laughs when I turn to reassure him. These assholes don’t believe me. There’s no persuading them.

“Just don’t do something you’ll regret. That’s a time bomb waiting to explode.” Lydia pulls the handle and uses her foot to open the heavy door. Watching her struggle under the weight is funny. She pokes her head through the open window, and a groan rumbles up her throat at my laughter. “It won’t be funny” —Lydia sneers— “when you’re standing on top of the bomb and your ass gets blown up.”

“Can you please stop, for the hundredth time?” I start to roll up her window, and she jerks back.

“You like her,” Lydia states, checking her lipstick in the side mirror and fluffing her bright purple hair. That’s her, though. She’s spunky and out of control, and she won’t stop looking at me like she can reach all the way down to my goddamn soul.

“What is this? Middle school? I don’t like her.” Lydia’s blunt statement makes me nervous. “Hell, I don’t even know the chick. And to top off the list of why you’re being ridiculous, she’s Jacob’s girl. That’s the last kind of drama I need.”

“Dammit, Lyd, give him a break, huh?” Randy exits the truck and comes to stand at my window.

“You may not know her, but you’re intrigued, which for you is fucking astonishing. No one’s intrigued you since you sprouted pubic hair, Duke. Don’t play dumb with me.” Lydia shoves Randy out of her way, standing on her tiptoes to drop a kiss on my cheek.

“She’s too pure for him. It doesn’t make any sense.” My inner musings escape my mouth like venom from a snake.

“Pure?” Randy’s boisterous chuckle escapes from his belly and slaps me in the face. “If you’re trying to convince anyone you aren’t hung up on this broad, calling her pure isn’t going to help. You plan on taking her virginity, too?”

“Shut up, Randy.” Lydia pats me on the shoulder. “That’s all you had to say, and now, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, she won’t.” Randy nods his chin towards me. He’s right. This won’t be the last time she gives me shit about Charlotte.

I drive out of the parking lot, leaving the two of them to work a quieter evening of the week. It’s usually one of my preferred nights to sling beers, but tonight is our quarterly meet-and-greet bullshit at the fraternity. This is our way of thanking the alumni for paving the way for us youngsters, and their night to remember their glory days.

Fraternity Row in Anywhere, America is pretty much the same. Brick everywhere. Manicured lawns. Large houses with tall, white pillars. Ours is no different.

Cars line both sides of the road. Our alumni are heavily invested in the frat’s well-being with not only their money, but also their time. Sometimes I think the reason my father stays active is to keep a better eye on my every move.