You're to Blame(59)

But what if Lydia is right, and I’m what Charlotte needs?

Hell, I know she’s what I need.

My heart fuels my legs. Lydia’s words echo in my mind as I search for my truck keys.

“Where are you going?” Lydia smirks because she already knows.

“I need to fix this,” I explain, shoving my arms into my zip-up hoodie. “Lock up for me.”

The cool air hits my bare chest. The zipper hits my skin, causing a chill to run over my body. Excitement shoots through me. I’m eager to explain and apologize. Hell, I’m not above groveling.

“Duke, your shoes,” Lydia calls out. A pair dangles from her fingertips. I ignore her and squeal out of the parking lot, barely bothering to stop at the stop sign.

It’s almost midnight, and all the windows are dark when I pull into the spot in front of the complex. Pushing past a couple in the hallway, I pound my fist against the door.

“Open up, Charlotte. Please.” My desperation is loud and clear. A couple eyes me, curious as to what I’ll do next. “I fucked up,” I shout to them. For the first time, my acknowledgement of my own wrong doings knows no bounds. I want to scream them from the rooftop, own up to every single mistake I’ve made.

The door swings open, and Rachel stands with heavy eyelids, blinking at me like I’ve just woken up a bear from hibernation. “What in the actual hell?” Her surprised expression when she sees what I’m wearing makes me laugh.

“Is Charlotte home?” I pull the front of my hoodie together to hide my bare chest.

“Where else would she be?” Rachel rolls her eyes, straightening her tank top with a huff of irritation. It may take me longer to get into Charlotte’s best friend’s good graces than I think.

Loud footsteps pound through the apartment. I can’t see her yet, but my body knows she’s nearby. Everything inside of me is on high alert, holding its breath, eager to see her.

Rachel pulls the door open, exposing Charlotte in the shortest, striped sleep shorts. “Your midnight caller.” Rachel drags her feet and moves to the side, not willing to leave me alone with Charlotte for one second. I can’t blame her.

My eyes scan up her bare legs to her t-shirt. It says, ‘But Coffee First.’ “Nice shirt.”

“What are you doing here, Duke?” She stands there, unforgiving, but somehow still adorably cute with her hands pinching into her sides. She’s mad, but for a single second, it dissipates, and her eyes brighten.

“If you would, I’d really like to talk.” This girl makes me feel weak, and not in a bad way. Vulnerability isn’t something I’m used to, but Charlotte makes me want to cut myself open and expose every feeling I’ve ever had.

“Why should I?” Damn, she challenges the hell out of me. This is why I’m attracted to her. She’s different than any girl I’ve ever known. She’s a light in a dark tunnel.

“Because you’re right.” Her eyes soften at my words. She is right. Even with good intentions, what I did to her by not calling after we slept together was a poor move on my part.

“Let me go get dressed.” Charlotte steps back.

Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

Charlotte holds up a finger, leaving Rachel and me together.

“So...” Rachel hums and smirks while I shuffle my feet.

“Go ahead and ask.” I slouch back and lean against the wall across from their door.

“What’s the plan?” Her feet are crossed at her ankles, and she leans into the doorframe.

“No plan. I just know I don’t deserve her,” I say.

“If you can admit that, then I’d say you’re a hell of a lot closer to deserving her than Jacob ever was.” Rachel shrugs her shoulders, as if her words don’t hold any weight. It’s the opposite, though. They rest perfectly on my shoulders, and I hear her loud and clear.

“Rachel, do you know something...”

The question fades away as Charlotte exits the apartment. She stands in front of me, still in the shorts, thank fuck, but now paired with an oversized sweater. Rachel shrugs her shoulders, turns, and shuts the door.

“Let’s get this over with.” Charlotte turns towards the parking lot and starts walking.

Opening the passenger side door, Charlotte slides in. Her shoulder grazes my chest, and fire burns down deep to run my fingertips over the ends of her hair. Not closing it behind her, she faces forward. Her attention is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Charlotte opens her lips, and desperation to spin her towards me and kiss her sinks in. She doesn’t speak like I half expect, instead a physical struggle ensues. Her chest rises and falls, dancing in front of me.

“Look at me,” Her lack of movement encourages me more, as if she already suspects why I showed up tonight, but she’s too afraid to face me. “Please, Charlotte.” I run my fingertips across her knee.

“What? What is it? What else could you have to say? You made yourself pretty clear earlier tonight. What’s happening between us is nothing.” She doesn’t take a breath between words. Impressive, but it’s an act. She hides what I’m desperate to find.

“What I have to say is this...” I swing her around.

As if she had been anticipating my next move, Charlotte’s legs wrap just above the back of my knees. The gesture can almost be mistaken as an accident. It isn’t, though, by the way they tighten around me. My body is pulled closer to hers, and I groan as my fingers run through her hair, gripping at the strands to stay grounded. The girl makes me feel like the Earth and I are no longer connected. She makes me float.