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“Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want.”
“You.”
“Out of the question. What else? Is it money? You want my fucking car? I don’t really give a shit but name your price before you even think of sending that to another soul.” It wasn’t the fact that I was sleeping with her or my own part in the video that had me feeling sick. It was the way Charli was exposed. If that wasn’t bad enough, it’d also be the worst possible way to reveal to Zoe that she’d been sneaking around with me behind her back.
“How about a date, just for starters?”
I had to close my eyes to gather my calm. I wanted to shout. To throw my phone in the pool. But Sophie had me by the balls and she knew it. If I didn’t play this exactly right, she could ruin everything. “Ask me for something else.”
There was a long pause. “Are you begging me, Cassian? Because the Cassian I know doesn’t beg.”
“I’ll get on my goddamn knees and beg you if that’s what it takes. Delete the video. Talk to me about this without holding a gun to my head.”
There was another pause, with only the roaring sound of my heartbeat in my ear. I looked inside through the patio windows at Charli, who sat cross legged in baggy clothes while she slurped her cereal. I knew she was slurping it, because she slurped everything remotely liquid. It had annoyed me at first, but I’d come to find it endearing. Just another touch of what made her uniquely Charli.
The idea of Sophie putting that video out made the heart I’d barely known I had want to break for her. It was my fault, too. If I’d found a more graceful way to let Sophie down, she wouldn’t have taken things to this level. I was sure of it.
“No,” Sophie finally said. “I want a date. It can be somewhere private, but I want you all to myself for one night.”
“I’m with Charli.”
“I’m aware.”
I let the phone fall from my ear and paced as I raked my hands through my hair. I clawed at my brain for some kind of idea. Some last-ditch plan to get out of this. “What do you consider a date?”
I could hear the smile in her voice. “So you’re thinking about it?”
“Yes,” I said tightly. “But if you try anything. Kissing me. Touching me. Anything. The deal is off.”
“It’s cute. You’re so used to being in control you can’t even recognize when you’ve lost it. Pick me up tomorrow at seven. Wear that nice white shirt you have and the black pants. And the cologne. Make sure you have that on. Also, if I even suspect you mentioned this to Charli, I’ll start sending people the video.”
I sank down into the nearest chair, clutching my forehead. She was fucking dressing me over the phone? I looked inside at Charli again. She turned her head, caught me looking, and smiled. A little milk dribbled from her mouth to her chin, and she lurched forward, wiping it and blushing.
I shook my head. “I’ll be there.”40CharliCassian and I had developed a routine. It was a fragile agreement to accidentally meet up around the house when he was done with practice or when I wasn’t training. He’d wander into my room and ask a meaningless question, which would lead to him sitting down somewhere so we could talk longer or so he could join me in watching what I was watching.
Other days, I’d find him on the couch and sit myself down, pretending to be on my phone until we gave up the ruse and just talked.
So when seven thirty rolled around, I left my room and went looking for him. I found Mrs. Stone sitting at the kitchen table while she watched a trashy reality TV show. She was playing on her phone at the same time, and it took me tapping her shoulder for her to look up.
“Hey, Charli,” she said, putting her focus back on the phone.
“Mrs. Stone, have you seen Cassian tonight? I needed to ask him about an assignment for a class we have together.”
“Cassian? He left about an hour ago.”
I frowned. I’d built up something of an understanding of his schedule, and I knew it was usual for him to go to Dead Ringers with the guys unless it was straight after practice or a game. The other possibility was a party, but I hadn’t heard any rumors about one at school.
I pulled out my phone and considered texting him. Why the hell not? Neither of us were apparently ready to put a label on what was between us, but it needed to happen sooner or later. I’d slept with him, for Christ’s sake. He was my boyfriend.
The thought sent a rush of warm, sugar-sweet light through me.
