The unspokenfor your agehung in the air between them, but Taylor let it slide right past. She didn’t care, not tonight. Having Charlotte sitting here on her couch made every defensive wall Taylor had spent months building crumble into useless dust.
“I’m glad you weren’t on a date,” Taylor said, the raw truth tumbling out before she could stop it.
Charlotte’s eyebrows lifted, a tiny, teasing smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah?”
“I saw you two from the stage,” Taylor admitted. She exhaled a long breath, forcing her eyes to meet Charlotte’s. “I was so jealous. I know I had no right to be. But I was.”
Charlotte let out a soft, breathy laugh.
A cold knot tightened in her stomach, her jaw setting hard. “I don’t really think that’s funny.”
Charlotte immediately sobered. She leaned forward, setting her glass of water down on the low wooden coffee table with a soft clink. “No, it’s not that,” she said gently. “I’ve actually spent the night trying not to be jealous.”
Taylor blinked, her heart knocking against her ribs. “Of...?”
“The woman I was with, Sam,” Charlotte said, resting her hands in her lap. “We work together. She, um... well, she heard you sing here last week, and she admitted having a crush on you.”
“Oh?” Taylor’s brows pulled together, the surprise catching in the back of her throat.
“But I told her that you were a psychology student,” Charlotte continued, a faint, wry edge creeping into her voice. “And while you’re not in her class... it wouldn’t exactly be ethical.”
Taylor scoffed, a rueful half-smile breaking through her tension. “I hope she wasn’t too disappointed.”
“She was, actually,” Charlotte said.
Taylor looked at Charlotte’s mouth, tracing the subtle line of her lip before pulling her focus back up. “I wouldn’t do that.”
Charlotte tilted her head again. “Do what?”
“Flirt with her in front of you.” The alcohol wasn’t driving her words—she was completely sober, but her mouth kept moving anyway, stripping away every filter she possessed. “I doubt you still feel anything for me, but... just in case, I don’t think I could.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything at first. Instead, her chest rose and fell on a heavy, shuddering exhale.
“If only you knew how wrong you were,” Charlotte said with a sigh.
The sentence hung in the quiet loft, suspended like smoke.
Taylor stopped breathing.
Was that in her head? Or did Charlotte really say that?
Taylor stared at her profile, her ears ringing.
Charlotte hadn’t just said that out loud.
There was no way she had.
17
“If only you knew how wrong you were,” Charlotte said.
The words left her mouth before she could stop them. They hung in the space between her and Taylor.
Charlotte kept her eyes fixed on the blank wall across the room. A sudden rush of adrenaline hit her scalp. Her body felt torn. Her nervous system demanded she run away, while her heart demanded she stay. The silk of her blouse clung to her collarbone, feeling too heavy against her skin.
She was tipsy. The wine she drank downstairs lingered on her tongue. She might not be sober, but she knew exactly what she’d just confessed. She couldn’t believe she spoke the sentence out loud.
Taylor stopped moving. The silence in the loft stretched.
