You're to Blame(60)

“Please don’t.” Her head tilts to the side, proving her words wrong once again. She leans forward. Our chests bump, and everything else in the world fades away. The cars driving by disappear as if we are two lone people left on this planet. She follows my every move, working with me until our lips are centimeters apart.

“If you tell me to stop, I will,” I breathe out, and a shiver courses through her body. “But don’t tell me to stop if one single part of you wants to know what will happen next.”

“You hurt me.” She tries to keep control. Tears pool in the corner of her eyes, a clear sign of just how badly my actions stung her.

Our foreheads lean against each other, and her nose tickles my own, circling the tip as I speak. “Charlotte, I’ve never had to explain myself to anyone, but I need you to know I did what I did because I like you, and it scares the shit out of me that I can’t truly have you.”

I close the small gap, keeping her sweet lips away from mine, and touch mine against the corner of her smile. In my head, I count, giving her a chance to stop what I’m dying to explore. She doesn’t, though. No words are uttered. No words are whispered.

Her tongue runs the seal of my lips and we open to each other. Her warm hands skim up my bare chest, circling around until her fingertips dig into my skin. She pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says between our lips. “Jacob and I...”

The sound of his name from the lips I’ve been kissing, causes my stomach to flip. Fuck.

“He’s not who you think,” I say.

Charlotte’s phone rings from somewhere in the truck. She bends and shifts to reach it, while keeping her legs wrapped around me.

She shrugs a silent apology before answering. “Hello?” Her skin is flushed and breathing labored. A perfect sign our embrace affects her like it does me.

Charlotte’s eyes widen in surprise, and her legs slip down painfully slow. Their absence is evident. She nods and responds with one-word answers. Something is wrong.

“I’ll be there soon,” she says before pushing END and tossing the phone over her shoulder. A whimper escapes from the cage made by her hands covering her face.

“What’s going on?” Her reaction from the phone call is like ice cold water on my warm, beating heart. I ask the question, already knowing the answer. He’s awake.

“Jacob’s...” Her eyes glisten when they look into mine. Tears stream down her cheeks. “He’s awake, Duke.”

This is the moment I’ve been dreading. Speak up. Tell her the truth. Tell her everything you know. Quit being a pussy. But it will destroy her.

“I’ll drive you.” I step back, noticing the lack of warmth on my body from the distance when I slam the door. Charlotte sits, her full attention focused on the side window as I slide behind the steering wheel.

The drive is quiet. So quiet I have to roll down the window to break the silence. The seats of the truck shake from Charlotte’s bouncing knee. I’d do anything to take her fear away, but I play a huge part in the way she feels.

When I pull up to the entrance, the parking lot is damn near empty. Charlotte shifts her body towards me. Her mouth opens and shuts. She and I both know no words will fix this.

“I don’t know what to do,” she sighs, finally looking to my side of the truck. “This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, right? Him to wake up, so I could talk to him, say all the things I needed to say over the past weeks. I should be happy he’s awake, but...” She lowers her thick, black lashes and watches me like she’s desperate for me to say something, give her a reason to not step out of this truck and into the hospital.

Put the poor girl out of her misery.

I lean past her and open the truck door. “Go be with him, Charlotte.”

Damn, that hurts like a knife to the chest.

Charlotte turns back before slipping out of my truck for maybe the last time. With her eyebrows cinched together, she releases a breath, pulling her purse over her shoulder and leaving without a single word or explanation for where to go from here. It’s like sand through my clenched fist; slowly, it will fall to the floor into a million tiny specks.

Wes waits for her by the entrance. He follows her steps backwards and shakes his head at the sight of me. On the sidewalk, Charlotte falls into Wes’s arms, and he welcomes her, while keeping an eye on where my truck idles. My foot hits the gas pedal, and the tires squeal, leaving only memories and rubber in the parking lot.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and ring Lydia. When she doesn’t answer, I toss it in the seat beside me. The inside of my truck smells of Charlotte’s perfume. The blood beneath my skin boils at the brief memory I have of a girl like Charlotte up against me. My fist connects with the steering wheel, and my outburst is interrupted by ringing.

“Hello,” I bark into the phone.

“Lovely to talk to you, too, Duke.” Lydia’s voice sings in my ear. “You know you are the one who called me, right?” Her snarky attitude creeps in her voice.

“He’s awake,” I blurt out. The silence suffocates me. “Lydia, did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you. That’s a good thing.” She sighs. “Now he can deal with the train wreck he’s caused.”

I explain the dilemma I’m officially in, as I park outside Lydia’s building. Her apartment is on ground level because she refused to move furniture up a flight of stairs.