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“She had the best, Ash,” he replies. “And I didn’t think I needed proof. I thought we were gentlemen.”
There’s an alert on her OF account whenever she posts, but whatever was recently uploaded has been deleted. I trade looks with Hudson, and he scoffs as he sits down at his desk.
“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Hudson explains. “We don’t believe you. Charlotte would’ve picked the two of us over you.”
“And why is that?” Jaxon asks.
“You look like a vagrant,” replies Hudson. “You look like you sleep under a bridge in a trash can.” Hudson sneers. “I know there are women that find that dirtbag chic appealing, but you look like you reek of patchouli. And Charlotte Howland is not some boho, nature-loving woman who hates soap.”
“In other words, she has class,” I add.
Jaxon shakes his head. “You two are jealous and deep green with envy. If you spent more time working out and less time yanking off, you might have better luck with the ladies too.”
“Look here, man-ho,” replies Hudson. “Even if you did score with her, she ain’t exactly giving you any attention. Did you already move on?”
The cocky smile disappears off Jaxon’s lips. “I don’t sleep around. Well, I mess around. But I’m not doing that anymore.” He grabs his towel out of his closet. “I’m taking a shower, so I can scrub the smell of incense off me.” He pauses in the open the door. “I left an impression on her that she won’t forget.”
The second he leaves, I say to Hudson, “I don’t like that I might have lost to Jaxon, but I like it even less if he really has stopped fooling around.
Hudson nods. “I understand.”
Chapter 32
Asher
The talk we had left a bad feeling in my gut. I didn’t like how Jaxon was acting or what he was saying. Instead of letting him play more mind-games, I decide to talk to Charlotte directly and ask her up front if she had sex with him. She’ll tell me the truth. In fact, she’ll probably brag about it to make me feel like shit. It’s her best chance to get even with me.
Besides, some other things are bothering me. She’s spending more time on her own, and the top girls in the dorm seem to be avoiding her. Maybe it’s my imagination, but she looks depressed. Worse than the way she looked when we were at Monarch.
I shouldn’t want confirmation, because I feel differently about her now. Back then, I didn’t have a problem with Charlotte at first because she was just a rich kid slumming. We had all sorts of theories as to why she was at Monarch, ranging from being expelled to being taught a hard lesson. I never did figure out why she was there, except she obviously didn’t have a fortune anymore.
I head over to English class, and Charlotte is sitting a seat away from Wren. I’m not sure what’s going on there. And instead of Wren gabbing with Charlotte, she’s talking to Tracey. I squeeze down the row and sit in between Charlotte and Wren. Charlotte barely lifts her eyes.
This isn’t good. I don’t want her acting terrified, like she did at Monarch. I made her timid to keep the situation under my control and to make her need me. Things have changed here at Ivymore; no one’s going to cut her down for being with me. And I don’t want to see her timid like that again.
“Charlotte,” I whisper, “I want to talk.”
“Why?” she asks, hugging her arms tighter.
“Wait for me after class,” I tell her. “Do not go running off.”
She doesn’t say anything but stares at the chipped polish on her nails. She looks up at Prof Tyler but then starts reading her book while he bores us with some story about a huge whale. I shouldn’t bother with her, not if she was with Jaxon. But I don’t believe they had sex. Maybe they did something, but not sex. She’s gotten to him, I know it. Jaxon’s not running around the way he used to, chasing after every girl that says yes. He’s calmed down, and I hate it.
Charlotte shifts in her seat, and her arm touches mine, which is resting on the armrest. Her closeness is driving me insane, and I sense the sadness in her. She loses interest in reading, but her arm stays next to mine. What the fuck did he do to her? I’ll beat him senseless if I have to.
Class finally ends, and Tyler assigns another reading from another book. People moan loudly, but he doesn’t give a shit as he looks at us, sneering. Dick. He’s killing trees for his crap ego.
Charlotte doesn’t move when the others get up to leave. I look at Hudson, who looks like he might hang back, but I give him an evil look, and wisely, he takes the hint. He walks up the aisle and out the door. Eventually the room is empty, which is no mean feat in a lecture hall with three-hundred-plus seats.
“What’s going on?” I whisper.
Her eyes shine, and she won’t look at me.
“Tell me,” I insist.
“Will you tell?” she asks.
“Have I told anything so far?”
