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Chapter 7
“You don’t look good.”
Charlotte hadn’t arranged to meet Alessandra on Sunday morning. But when she stumbled into The Witch’s Brew, she wasn’t all that surprised to see her friend in line.
“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly. “Is Kenton here?” She looked around but didn’t see Alessandra’s fiancé.
“Nope,” she said. “He’s at the florist.”
“The florist?” The image of edgy Kenton standing in a florist shop almost made her laugh. He’d be so out of place.
“I was actually going to call you later. Do you have any plans tonight?”
Other than dwelling on Torr and replaying the memory file she’d created last night over and over again?
“Nope.”
“Well, you do now. We’re having a dinner party later! That’s why Kenton’s picking up flowers. Nothing huge, mind you, just the two of us, Lawrence and Toni, and Laria.”
Charlotte bit her lip and waited for her friend to say his name, her heart beating faster in anticipation.
But Alessandra stopped talking. Her spirits deflated. No Torr then. Of course not. He wasn’t exactly the sort to go to a dinner party, and Alessandra had made no mystery of her dislike for him.
“Can I help you?”
“Morning, Sam,” she murmured to the barista. “The usual.”
Her stomach gave a little twist. “Actually, less milk than usual,” she amended.
Alessandra eyed her suspiciously. “I can’t wait to hear this,” she said.
Charlotte knew there would be no getting around it. Besides, for all she knew, Torr was even now telling his brother the whole story. Well, surely not the whole story.
“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen you in sweatpants in my life.”
Her mother would be appalled. “Dress to impress.” How many times had she heard that throughout her life?
“Yeah, well. Rough night.”
“Like I said . . . morning, Sam. Chai latte, please . . . I can’t wait to hear.”
Taking their drinks to a high-top table, they sat. And Alessandra waited.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte told her what had happened the night before. Alessandra was her closest friend in town. Both of them had vowed not to drift apart after Alessandra had left the high school, and aside from when her mom had come to visit, they’d done a good job of staying connected. Luckily, the town was small enough that they often ran into each other without trying. Like this morning.
“So you basically had a first date in—”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“I see. So what would you call it?”
Charlotte’s mind raced back to the moment when Torr had spun her around, pressing her backside to him, his hands—
“Holy shit,” Alessandra muttered.
“What? Don’t look at me like that.” She shrugged. “It was more of a pseudo-kidnapping than anything, really, although I’m grateful he helped with the car.”
“Shit, Charlotte. Not him. If you only knew the half—”
