I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(35)

Fifteen minutes, that was my cut off. If he was not here within a fifteen-minute window—reasonable, I thought. A lot of things could make someone up to fifteen minutes late—then I would get in my car and drive myself.

It took all my willpower not to watch the actual clock on my phone as it ticked minute after minute. But really, unless the man had gotten in an accident or suddenly gained magical powers and apparated, there was no earthly reason he could not have sent me a simple text telling me he was going to be late. Just a warning would’ve improved the situation immensely.

When the clock ticked seven forty-five, the fifteen-minute window had passed, and I stood, my face heating with rage. This was it. We were through. I deserved far better than a man who valued me so little. I started toward my car when Andy’s silver Acura rolled around the corner, coming to a stop right in front of my house.

His handsome smile caused me to pause, tempering my rage. But no. I could not let this go. I was going to drive myself to the bowling alley and hang out with friends. I needed to hold strong, or I would fall back into the same relationship that didn’t work out last time.

But the clock on my phone did still read seven forty-five, and Andy was here now, getting out of his car and grinning like I’d just given him a brand-new set of dental drills. Technically, he was within the fifteen-minute window.

“Hey, babe,” he said, crossing the sidewalk and laying a kiss on my lips. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for fifteen minutes,” I said. Wow. My delivery was great. I even sounded bugged, but not too annoyed.

He cringed. “I know. I lost track of the time and jumped in the shower. When I saw the clock, though, I rushed over.”

Well, that was sweet. At least he was making an effort this time. And I really couldn’t fault him for losing track of time in the shower, not when there was no clock in there, and not when it meant he smelled this good. I leaned in, taking a whiff of his cologne and a bit of something fresh—his shampoo, maybe?

“You smell nice,” I said.

“So it was worth being late?” He shot me such a cute smile that I found my lips reciprocating in kind, and I followed him to his car, shaking my head.

We got to the bowling alley, and Andy grabbed my hand, leading me inside. Beth’s car wasn’t in the lot yet, and I didn’t know what Liam drove. We rounded the corner of the shoe-rental desk and almost ran smack into Liam. I pulled back on Andy’s hand hard, and he turned.

“Sorry, man,” he said, shooting Liam a dismissive smile.

Liam caught it and raised his eyebrows at me.

Standing in the same space, their differences were stark. Liam looked like he played football in college, all broad shoulders and defined muscles, and Andy looked like he ran the debate team. There was nothing wrong with that, but I could see that it was maybe going to be an issue for Andy. He’d always cared so much about appearances. He didn’t like it when he wasn’t the tallest guy in the group.

“Hey, Charlie,” Liam said, giving me a very meaningful smile. He’d texted me again today about bowling, and I had just sent him a photo of Beth so he would know what his date would look like.

I would never admit this aloud, but I’d spent an inordinate amount of time trying to decide if I should send a good picture of Beth—as all of them invariably were—or the one awkward one I’d snapped a few months back when we’d both stayed up way too late and had watched too many hours of the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. She’d done an impression of Mrs. Bennet for me that was heavily punctuated with laughter, and I’d snapped a few pictures that we’d later laughed over until our stomachs hurt.

In the end, I made the right choice. Who would it serve if I sent a laughing Mrs. Bennet photo of Beth when Liam would meet her anyway—had met her already at my house. He only claimed he didn’t remember her. Something I knew to be a complete lie. She was hard to forget.

“Liam,” I said brightly, “this is Andy, my boyfriend.”

Andy’s face whipped toward me. “Liam?” he asked, enunciating the name.

“Yes.”

“Like the one you dated?”

Well, shoot. I guess I forgot that tiny detail. I looked at Liam, and he must have sensed the pleading in my eyes. I could not let this fall apart now, not when I had so smoothly and honestly explained our relationship.

“The very one,” Liam said, standing a little taller. His voice was deep and solid, and I wanted to praise him for owning the claim I’d made—however flimsy it was.

“Isn’t this a little awkward?” Andy asked, his hands out a little and his eyebrows raised, indicating himself. He thought Liam would be jealous of him? As though I was some major prize?

A blush bloomed in my chest and rose steadily up my body the longer Liam looked at Andy. His gaze flicked to me and then back to my boyfriend.

“Not even a little bit,” Liam said smoothly. Flicking his head toward me, he smiled. “We’re friends. I’m happy for Charlie, as long as she’s happy.”

I shot him a look that I hoped conveyed how very, very grateful I was, and he winked.

Yes, he did. He actually winked at me. If anything, I think it made my blush grow more. My entire face was hot enough to fry an egg.

“Hey, guys,” Beth said, coming around the corner and stopping herself from running right into us. Clearly, they needed to rethink their layout here. My smile tightened. Did she have to look that amazing? Long, dark hair waving perfectly over her red blouse and black jeans. Now I wished I hadn’t worn my black jeans, because they could never compare to Beth’s.