His face screws up. “Okay, so because your previous relationship didn’t work, that automatically means ours won’t? What the hell kind of logic is that?”
“Except we aren’t in a relationship.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. The hurt flashing in his eyes is the same hurt I’m feeling inside.
Graham huffs a breath. “Really, Charley? That’s how you feel?”
“It’s true, Graham, and you know it. We’re just a dirty little secret we’re keeping from everybody.”
“Because you wanted it that way!” he booms. “You’re the one who didn’t want to tell my sisters, Charley, not me.”
“Because they’re my best friends and you’re their brother! They’d never forgive me.”
“Bullshit,” he barks, taking me by surprise. “That’s such a fucking copout.”
He’s right, it is a copout, but I can’t tell him the real reason is because I can’t handle the fear that he’d find somebody better and closer, and break my heart. This is selfish, but I can’t turn into some jealous girl who studies every interaction and questions everything he says. I can’t doubt him and wonder if I can’t trust him.
Not Graham.
He’s probably going to hate me for this, but I think later on, when the dust settles, he’ll see I was right. This is for the best. He can meet somebody here, and I won’t constantly have to wonder what he’s doing. Heck, maybe I’ll meet somebody too and finally move on from loving my best friend’s brother.
“It’s done, Graham.” Please forgive me one day.“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to do this anymore.”
His jaw pops and his nostrils flare as he exhales. He may be mad, but he’s hurt too, and I did that to him. “That’s what you really want? To be done?”
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I hold my head high and pretend my heart doesn’t splinter into a million pieces as I say, “Yes.”
He breathes a humorless dry laugh through his nose and nods. “Got it. Consider it done, Charley. Have fun in college. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
Graham doesn’t bother looking back before climbing out of the window and down the side of the house. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them, the first of many tears falling hot down my cheeks.
This is what needed to be done.
So why does it feel like I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
18
Graham, 22 weeks
Iflip the patties on my Blackstone grill, then turn toward the bubbly belly laughter coming from the yard. A wide grin splits my face, and I breathe out a laugh, watching Ellie Mae attempt to put her dress-up clothes on Biggie Smalls. And of course, he lets her. Princess dresses lay on the grass, a hot pink feather boa draped over the back of his neck, and she even has a tiara placed on his head. It sits perfectly between his big, floppy ears.
“Daddy!” Ellie Mae claps her hands together, feet tip-tapping as she looks over at me with a bright smile, her blue eyes wide and gleaming.
“Look at him,” I drawl with a chuckle. “You’ve got him dressed up so pretty. Good job, baby.”
Then Biggie leans forward and gives her a slobbery kiss on the side of her face, making her giggle some more. There’s truly no better sound than happy kids. I could listen to her belly laugh all day. I bring my focus back to the grill; I’m making cheeseburgers, fries, and corn on the cob tonight. Charley should be home from work any minute. Ellie Mae had a doctor'sappointment this afternoon, so I only worked for half the day, which was nice.
It’s been a couple of weeks since our almost kiss in my bedroom, and there haven’t been any other close calls. I knew living with her was going to be challenging, but I wasn’t prepared for just how much. I’m hyper aware of her at all times when we’re both home. Even if we’re not in the same room together, I can sense her somewhere in the house, and there’s this strong, unrelenting, magnetic pull between us that I can’t explain, but I’m sure is one-sided.
And when we’re near each other, it’s impossible to focus on anything else. It’s always Charley. The way she smells, what she’s wearing that day, her hair and how beautiful it looks when she wears it down, the breathtaking contrast of her rich, black hair against her smooth, creamy skin, but how enticing it also looks pulled up, showcasing the long column of her neck and the ink covering her bare shoulders. Don’t even get me started on the tiny clothes she wears around the house. The pajama shorts that barely cover her bubble butt and show off her smooth, ink-covered legs and the thin, tight tank-tops that go with them that stretch over her beautiful, growing baby bump and the mouthwatering outline of her nipple rings. I don’t mean to look, but sometimes, I can’t help it. Then I feel bad, like I’m a creep who can’t keep his eyes to himself, but…she’s perfect.
We recently started watchingGrey’s Anatomyat night after Ellie Mae goes to bed—Charley was beside herself that I’ve never seen it—and half the time, I can’t even pay attention to what’s happening on the TV because I’m enthralled with her. All her little reactions—the laughing or crying or yelling—when something happens… It’s captivating. I’m not even sure if I like the show yet, but I already know I’d watch a million episodes so long as I got to watch them with her.
“Graham!” My name comes from inside, and as I turn and look through the back sliding door, Charley’s barreling through the house, her eyes shimmering and a wide grin overtaking her face. “Graham, guess what!”
“You felt the baby kick again?”
She comes to a stop beside the grill. “No— Well, I mean, yeah, but that’s not it.”
I think for a moment as Charley bounces between her feet, excitement practically radiating through her, and then it hits me. “You passed?”
