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Me: I know… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have texted. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.
Charlie: I’m safe… I’m home… Goodnight, Andrew.
I frown, knowing there isn’t any more I can say.
Me: Goodnight, Charlotte.
We agreed we don’t want to be together, and we aren’t going to have sex again, either. That means it has to be this way, even if I fucking hate it.
I scrub my hands over my face, filled with frustration. I pour one more bourbon, down it, and decide I’m calling it a night. I turn off the monitors and close the computer before going to my bedroom to lie across my bed. Once again, I sink into the plush bed. I wrap my arm around my pillow and bury my face into it.
It takes another hour before I finally fall asleep, my nightmare paying me another visit.
Chapter Six
Charlie
I punch the dough for the biscuits a little too aggressively, taking my anger and aggravation out on the morning prep for the café. It’s a little past five a.m. I have the scones in the ovens, and the biscuits are up next. My thoughts keep wandering to Andrew, hence the biscuit dough beatdown.
What the hell was he thinking texting me two nights ago? And what did he expect to happen? I haven’t heard another word from him since. I don’t know what infuriates me more. Him texting or him not texting. It’s a conundrum, I know.
“You want to talk about it?” Andrea asks in the doorway to the kitchen.
I blow a couple of pieces of hair that have escaped my bun out of my face. I need to stop and fix it, so I turn and wipe some flour from my cheek before blowing out another big breath.
“Yes, and no.”
“Does this have anything to do with Andrew?”
I mull over how to answer her. I’m still not ready to tell her. I know she knows something happened, but I doubt in a million years she has any idea of just how much he rocked my world.
“Yes, and no.” A small, sad smirk pulls at my lips.
Yes, it’s true I’m thinking about him. Actually, it’s more like can’t stop thinking about him, but I’m mostly mad at myself. I went there when I shouldn’t have with him. I know better. I know he’s emotionally crippled and an asshole.
I have a bad habit of going after men who are unavailable. I don’t know what that says about me, but I should probably see a therapist over it. My eyebrows furrow. I’m not entirely excited about that idea.
“Are you going to stand there and continue to beat the biscuits up like they stole your lunch money, or are we going to talk about this, so you can get it off your chest? I know you, Charlie. Something is eating you up.”
“I’m not ready yet, but I promise you’ll be the first person I come to when I am. I’m just processing.”
Her face is serious and concerned. “Is it anything bad?”
“Only the good kind of bad, Andrea. Don’t worry. I didn’t do anything I could get in trouble for.”
“That’s good. You have me thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts, like my brother might have to save you from jail.” She laughs like it’s completely plausible.
“I’m a little offended at that, Andrea Shaw.” My hand goes to my chest in disbelief.
She only giggles, offering a shrug of her shoulders. “Well, can you blame me?”
“The only thing Andrew will be saving me from is choking him to death with my bare hands.” My anger flares. I go over to wash my hands, so I can pull all my hair back up. These biscuits aren’t going to make themselves.
“Woah, I know you two don’t care for each other, but what the hell did he do? Seriously… Do I need to kick his ass for you?”
“Awe, bestie, I knew I could count on you. Now, if I ever call you and tell you to meet me somewhere with a shovel, I know you’ll show with the goods and help me bury the body.”
“Ahh, thanks, I guess?” A look of utter confusion and horror fills her all too sweet features.
