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“What is he going to do?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. I told him he can call me anytime, but he hasn’t.”
“He must be embarrassed.”
I face Charlie. There’s no pity in her gaze. She looks worried as she stares at me and I wonder if she’s gone through something similar before. As I stare at Charlie, I realize I don’t actually know much about her dating life, nor do I know anything personal about her. Are her parents still together? Does she have any siblings? Has she ever been in love? All these questions slam toward me and I suddenly wonder, what do we talk about? Art? The bros? Why doesn’t she ever want to be open with me?
“What should I do?”
Charlie sighs and her gaze drops to the tabletop. She grabs her spoon and swirls it around her coffee absentmindedly. “I don’t know,” she says after a long while. “It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t love themselves. And it’s hard to be there for someone when they keep pushing you away.”
“Hunter doesn’t push me away,” I rush out, but the moment the words leave my lips, I know I’m lying.
He does push me away. He does it by not answering my phone calls, by lying to me about his pain and his drinking, by keeping secrets from me. I hate it. I hate all of it, but what can I do? If I leave him now, it will only get worse, and even though he has hurt me, I don’t want to leave him. I want him to get better.
Charlie shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Rachel, I don’t think I can help you with this. This is way out of my league.” She drops her spoon in her coffee and leans back in her seat, her eyes regarding me. “What I suggest is talking to the others about it. Maybe Lucas, Seth, and Alex see something you don’t.”
“Like what?”
Charlie grimaces. “Like how toxic your relationship with Hunter has become.”
“It’s not toxic.”
Charlie doesn’t say anything and we sit in silence, staring at each other like we are having a western standoff. Crap, are we fighting again? I don’t think I can go another two weeks without speaking to my best friend.
The door jangles and I release the breath I’ve been holding when I see Alex enter. He looks around, his gaze landing on me, his face flushed bright red from the cold. “I thought that was you,” he gasps and stalks toward me, grabbing a chair and sliding it toward us.
“Have you been running?” Charlie asks with a frown, looking him up and down as if he’s suddenly morphed into the abominable snowman.
“Yeah,” Alex says as if it should be assumed.
“In this weather?”
I place a hand over my mouth, trying in vain to hold my laughter as Charlie stares at Alex as if he’s completely lost his mind. Alex ignores Charlie, focusing all his energy on unraveling his scarf, folding it neatly before laying it gently on the back of his chair before removing his hat. His gloved hands push the snow off his coat.
“Lucas!” Alex shouts while shrugging off his coat.
Lucas groans and remains behind the counter. “Come to the counter if you want to order something.”
“I need hot chocolate,” Alex continues, ignoring Lucas.
Lucas scowls in Alex’s direction, but Alex ignores him, focusing all his attention on me. His icy hands grab mine and he stares at me intently while saying, “I need to speak with you.”
I’m tempted to burst into a fit of laughter, but Alex looks so serious. He never looks this serious. I glance in Charlie’s direction, who’s smiling in that knowing way. What exactly does she know? Or maybe she thinks we look cute?
“Can we have a minute?” I ask, feeling rude in sending her away after inviting her out for a much-needed girl’s talk.
Charlie nods, already rising from her seat and taking her coffee with. “I’ll go check on that hot chocolate,” she says with a wink.
Charlie is such an amazing friend. I’m never fighting with her again, and I just might give Mike a knuckle sandwich the next time I see him.
“All right,” I start once Charlie is leaning against the counter, “what’s going on?”
“Seth kissed me in Chicago.”
My eyes widen and I can’t stop the smile forming. “What?” I breathe while leaning toward Alex conspiratorially. “When?”
“When we were leaving the liquor store,” Alex rushes out.
