I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(37)

“You hungry?” he asked, climbing into his seat like nothing weird just happened. “I’m starved.”

“Sure,” I agreed, still shaken from Andy’s overzealous display. I didn’t have time to analyze the situation completely except to admit that I was not happy with what had just happened. Well, if one thing was clear, Andy was the supremely jealous type. Funny how I’d never had to deal with that the first time around.

***

By the time I crawled into bed that night and pulled my blanket up to my chin, I had more than one warning bell going off in my mind. Not only was Andy moody after leaving the bowling alley, but he talked about nothing but Liam. Liam was so tall, so imposing, so rude. I was so sick of hearing that name on Andy’s bitter tongue. I was itching to grab my water glass and splash it in his face by the time we had finished eating and left the restaurant.

My wall lit up with a blueish-white glow, and I reached for my phone on impulse, pulling it close.

Liam: Hustler.

I should not engage. It would be poor of me to engage in banter with the man after he’d so rudely bothered Andy. Except, I didn’t really see what he had done to bother Andy so much except maybe that he was taller, broader, and nicer.

The fire of justified irritability roared within me, and my fingers typed before I could command them to stop.

Me: I still won.

He wrote back so fast it was obvious he was on his phone, waiting for my response. Was he alone too or still with Beth? I guess I could just ask, but it felt weird.

Liam: Now that I know you’re good, I’ll bring my A-game.

Me: Nope. You did not let me win. I saw you giving that ball everything you’ve got.

Liam: Rematch. Then you’ll really see what I’ve got.

Oh, no. This was treading into dangerous territory. But we were friends, and I wasn’t ready to quit talking to him, so I changed the conversation.

Me: How was Carrow’s?

Liam: Their chocolate malts are otherworldly.

Me: My chocolate malts are better.

Liam: Prove it.

Me: Okay. But you have to win first.

I realized I was grinning into my brightly lit phone. Was that normal? I quickly typed another text before he could, redirecting the point of the conversation. Just because Andy didn’t like him, that didn’t mean I couldn’t be friends with Liam.

Me: Did Beth have a good time?

Liam: You’ve got an interesting idea of setting a friend up on a date.

Uh-oh. What did she do? I was half-tempted to text Beth instead, but I didn’t want to break the conversation yet.

Me: She has a good heart.

Liam: Maybe. But she’s obsessed with Rhett.

Me: Rhett Myers? Who isn’t?

Liam: Touché.

Me: So are you going to help her out or what?

The symbol to indicate Liam typing flashed in the corner of the screen for a good, long while. I was starting to grow worried by the time he responded.

Liam: I knew it. You used me.

Something within me constricted. I didn’t like the sound of that. So I handled it with an edge of humor, hoping to dispel the discomfort rising in my heart.

Me: Technically, Beth used you. Or was trying to, at least.

The phone was silent, and I watched it for any indication he was there. Little scrolling ellipses or another text, either one would have calmed my racing heart. But I got nothing.

I watched my phone for another twenty minutes before giving up and sliding it onto the bedside table. Pulling my blankets higher, I snuggled into bed and tried to fall asleep despite the guilt clawing at me.





Chapter Sixteen


The next week passed in a weird, slow rhythm. I saw Andy twice, both times for quick dinner dates. I met him at the restaurant on both occasions, promising myself I was implementing the fifteen-minute late rule, even if it was only in secret. I needed to set up boundaries, to protect myself. But I hadn’t needed to worry about it; he was on time for both meals.

Monday I drove my aunt to her hair appointment at Beth’s salon, and Wednesday I had to leave Andy at the pizzeria a little early to grab Mariah from the school after her rehearsals let out. By the time Friday rolled around, I hadn’t talked to Beth all week outside of a few short text conversations. She had reported that Carrow’s with Liam went really well, and those two words—really well—tortured me all week.

What exactly did that mean?

Sitting in the soft swivel chair at my desk, I watched Todd lean against the counter and chat with Marissa. No one else in the bank employee system except me knew that they were chatting outside of work too. So far they hadn’t actually met up, but Marissa confided that it was only a matter of time before Todd wore her down and she would agree to meet him for dinner.

I wondered how they thought they were getting away with it when Todd could be found flirting with Marissa any time we had a dead moment in the bank. He was like a magnet and the teller counter full of metal. But it was nothing to me if they wanted to jeopardize their jobs like this. They were both adults.

Even if one of them was an idiot.

“Well, five o’clock,” Todd announced to the entire bank. There were no customers in the branch, or he would have saved the peacock strut for another time. He let out a loud, heavy breath. “Guess my weekend just started.”

Of course he would brag about getting to leave an hour before we closed our doors to customers. Maybe I should transfer to a bank that didn’t keep such late hours.