You're to Blame(37)

“I would’ve never crossed the line. I respect you too much.” My attempt to ease her mind fails.

She lifts her hand. For a split second, I stop breathing. I’d give anything to feel her brushing my hair from my eyes. It falls back to her side, and I’m not afraid to admit I’m disappointed.

“Thank you.” Relief paints her face. “I better go.”

I rub the stress from the back of my neck.

Charlotte waves over her shoulder and disappears around the corner. I slam the front door, and as I lean against it, the coolness on my back helps the fire in my veins die down.

What the fuck am I doing?





Chapter Eleven





Charlotte


From the second I wake up, the odd encounter is all I think about. To getting into the shower, and now sitting at the kitchenette devouring a bowl of Fruit Loops, all I see is the way Duke’s eyes smoldered and darkened. He wanted to kiss me. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him. I’ve never been looked at like he did last night, and I don’t know what that means.

“Explain it to me again,” Rachel asks, dumping a hearty helping of cereal into a random bowl left on the counter.

“How do you know that isn’t dirty?” I flick the rim of the bowl she’s pouring milk into. She shrugs and dunks her spoon to the bottom and takes a giant bite.

“So, you went to Duke’s apartment to do what, exactly?” She sits down beside me.

“Find out why he got into a fight. Wes told me he heard about it around campus, and...” My explanation drifts off into thin air. I have no excuse for going over there, and from the way my best friend is staring at me, I’d say she agrees. “What? We’re friends.”

“Duke Anderson and I are friends. You two are a whole different mess.” Her eyes narrow, and I hate what they insinuate.

“We can be friends.” The whine in my voice tells the truth.

“Most friends don’t look at each other like they want to rip each other’s clothes off.” She chortles. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

She clearly doesn’t believe me, and for the first time, I’m also questioning what is and isn’t happening between Duke and me.

“I have class.” I feign excitement.

“You going to the hospital?” Rachel pulls her hair into a top knot.

“What kind of question is that?” I raise my eyebrows. A day hasn’t passed since the accident where I haven’t spent a portion, large or small, by Jacob’s side. No, that’s not true. Since Friday, not a single moment of my day had been consumed by anything other than Duke. How did that happen?

The guilt I feel, but shouldn’t, settles in. What if Jacob wakes up? What if he takes his last breath, and I never apologize? Our last conversation hadn’t gone how I’d wanted.

“A stupid one.” She shrugs. “Just make sure to take care of yourself in the process. It’s okay to put yourself first once in a while. You don’t owe anyone anything.” With a kiss on my crown as she passes, she leaves me with a bit of wisdom I never asked for but need.

While I get ready, I think about what Rachel said. Maybe it’s about time I put myself first. It’s okay to be selfish every so often. I pull out my phone and click a few buttons.

Me: You busy today? Want to meet up?

Duke: When and where?

Me: Library @ noon?

Duke: See you then.

My guilt is replaced with regret. I tuck my phone into my purse. Rachel mentioned for me to relax and take time for myself, so why is it Duke’s face comes to mind with those instructions? I’m treading on thin ice, with a crack down the middle, spidering outwards, begging for sweet release under the weight.

My morning classes go by at a snail’s speed. My lab partner in Chemistry complains the entire hour about my behavior. I can barely focus during my Ethics in Journalism lecture. The stress may be getting to me, or perhaps, it’s been getting to me for a while. My pride is what’s been stopping me from admitting the truth. I’m in over my head, with all of it.

School. Jacob. Work.

And now Duke.

I’m crumbling, and everyone around me knows how unstable it’s all becoming.

The walk to the library is chilly. The air is cool and wet. I cross my arms over my chest to stay warm, having left my coat on the couch this morning.

My usual spot in the far back corner is empty. I glance over the balcony. Every table is filled with students cramming information into their minds to prepare for their impossibly demanding classes. I know the feeling all too well.

By noon, my books are scattered over the large table, opened to their respective pages. I do my best to correlate material from each one to make a complete thought. Sort of like what I’m doing with Duke at this exact moment.

He stands at the top of the steps, scanning over the space. His black leather jacket forms perfectly to his body. He’s all broad shoulders and sexy hair.

My mind catalogues my body’s response. The way my shoulders relax at the sight of him. The flutter in my stomach. Deepening breaths that burn my chest.

A smile stretches on his lips when he sees me watching him. The chair squeaks as he pulls it out and takes a seat, dropping his backpack on the ground. The drawstrings on his heather grey hood hang loose down the front, and I resist the urge to toy with them.