You're to Blame(69)

I speed through the streets, violating every traffic law. Desperation claws at me to explain why we’re in this situation, and how I intend to fix the colossal mess we’ve made.

The tires squeal when I slam on the brakes and slip into an open parking spot. I leave the engine running and jump from the driver’s seat, racing up the sidewalk. A group of girls hold the door open for me. One locks eyes with me. My frantic demeanor has her eyes widening.

“Thank you,” I say, passing by her.

I’m eager and frenzied, ready to be in front of Charlotte and admit to fucking up. This game we’ve been playing has been flawed since the start. This isn’t a one-sided event. She fucked up too, though. She has her own explaining to do.

“Open up, Charlotte,” I shout through the door. “Please.” I bang a closed fist against the metal. “I can explain everything.” No answer. With an ear to the door, I listen. There is no sign of life. “I saw your ridiculous, sensible car parked out front. I know you’re here.” I take a deep breath before I thump my hand against the door one last time. “Please, Charlotte.”

Still no answer.

I sink to the floor, the wall my pillow. Sometime after I find a comfortable spot, my phone vibrates. Caller ID shows my parents’ number. It could be Dee. She’d know what to do, but I don’t have energy for anyone other than the impossible girl hiding behind the door. I click ignore and shove it back into my pocket.

Sometime after midnight, footsteps settle beside me. A body lowers to the floor. Without turning my head, I know it’s not Charlotte. The perfume is all wrong.

“How long you plan on sitting out here?” Rachel asks. Her legs extend in front of her.

“How long do you think she’ll stay in there? Days? Weeks?” I question. Rachel nods with understanding.

“We’re talking about Charlotte. She’s rational and poised.” Her admiration is evident in her smile. “Charlotte’s also resourceful, so it’s possible she could be in there for weeks.” We both laugh at her joke, knowing it’s true.

I duck my head against my knees. “I fucked up.”

“Let’s make something clear. You fucked up a long time ago,” she says. “She also fucked up by not telling you about her and Jacob.”

“How do I fix this?” Stress pulls at the muscles of my neck. Rachel’s eyes soften. “I mean, can we fix this?”

“I think I can help.” Her hand stretches for mine, and she pulls me to my feet. When I go to step inside the unlocked apartment, her palm on my chest halts my steps. “No, I won’t let you in. Say what you need to say. She can hear you. She’s on the couch. She’ll make her own decisions if she’s ready to say her own peace.”

I’m not sure why Rachel is throwing me this bone, but this may be my only chance to clear the weight from my chest.

“Charlotte,” I call out. “I don’t know if you can hear me. God, I hope you can hear me.” I rest my head against the frame. “I’m sorry. I am. I should’ve told you. I knew how bad it would hurt you.” I couldn’t stand to see her in pain and now all I have left is guilt for keeping it from her. “But you should’ve told me too. Most of this heartache could have been prevented.” I step away and pace in front of the doorway.

Rachel’s eyebrows sink together. “Is that all you are going to say?”

“What else am I going to say?” I sigh. There is so much more I could say. Do I lay it all out right now? Or save myself from embarrassment and keep it locked away. Go big or go home, I guess. “Should I say she’s gotten under my skin? Burrowed so deep I can’t stop thinking about her? She challenges me and tests me, and usually that simple fact would drive me away, but instead, I find myself wanting to scoot closer. Soak up every word she says. Is that what you want me to say?”

“If it’s the truth, then yes.” Rachel’s head dips a quick nod.

“Every. Damn. Word.”

“Did you hear all of that?” Rachel opens the door fully, and I jerk my glance to meet Charlotte’s eyes as they penetrate me through the darkened apartment.

“I did,” she whispers through a deep breath. “Now, Rachel, please make him leave.”

I shift, needing one last glimpse at Charlotte before the door slams in my face. Rachel avoids eye contact until the last second. Even through one eye, it says it all. This shit is over with.

The clink of the deadbolt sounds like my own personal jail cell locking me behind the bars. No blame is placed on anyone but Charlotte and me.

I’m almost to the exit when I hear bare feet padding on carpeted floor.

“Duke,” Charlotte calls out, and eagerly, I turn to see her jogging towards me. Maybe all isn’t lost. Her arms wrap around me, and like a habit, mine blanket her shoulders. We hold onto each other like we are afraid the other will vanish into thin air. My hand rests on the top of her head, my thumb circling along her loose strands of hair. “I’m sorry, too.”

Charlotte pushes away from me and jets back into the apartment. Her words have a finality to them. When her warmth wears off, for the first time, I know what it feels like to lose something I’ve never had before.





Chapter Nineteen





Charlotte