Charlie smiled. “Thanks, Jordy, but seriously, stop talking about my possible boyfriend’s dick.”
“So where is this man anyway?” asked Hayley. “Why is he not here proving he’s good enough for my little bumblebee?”
“He’s gone to his brother’s tenth wedding anniversary. Speaking of, how come you didn’t go, Soph?”
Sophia choked on her mojito. “Not for all the tea in China. William Hunter is a dickface and his wife Meghan is the world’s biggest bitch. My family is the worst.”
Charlie squeezed the bride-to-be’s hand. “Easy, tiger. No more vodka for you. Anyway, when James comes back we’ll talk about maybe getting together.” The thought gave her dragon-sized butterflies but it simply had to be done.
Hayley patted her head. “He’d be crazy to pass you up.”
“But if James does want to marry you…” Sophia asked, her ice-blue eyes wide. “Would you maybe want to maybe stay in America maybe?”
Charlie smiled. “I don’t know. I still have time to renew my visa and I don’t want to rearrange my life for another guy…”
“Buuuuuut?”
“I could maybe extend my stay for a few months. Maybe.”
Her friends squealed and Charlie felt three pairs of arms close around her.
“But don’t go counting your chickens, ladies, James and I still have to talk…”
Deep within her right boot, Charlie’s phone buzzed. She extracted it to find a picture of James, blond hair in artful disarray, flashing on the front. She smiled at the image and stood up. “I think I’m getting drunk dialed.”
“Oooooooooohh,” the girls sung in unison.
Charlie waved a dismissive hand and looked around for a quieter place to talk. Striding toward the nightclub’s balcony, she answered her phone. “Hey, James, how’s the party?”
There was a long, crackling interlude as the music thumping from James’ location battled the noise blaring from the club. Charlie walked further outside, ignoring Hayley and Jordan who were miming blowjobs.
“Charlotte? Charlotte? You there?”
She could instantly tell he was shitfaced. His words were bleeding together until his accent was just one big slur. Charlie shoved a finger in her right ear. “James? I can’t really hear you. I’m in a club—”
Suddenly his voice came down the line, clear as a bell. “Charlotte, I fucked up.”
A huge glut of adrenaline flooded Charlie’s body. Her stomach lurched and sugary energy drink burned in the back of her throat. She wanted to hang up but her fingers refused to do her bidding.
“I didn’t mean to, I just—it just happened.”
“What are you talking about?” She rotated on the spot, desperate to hear him better. Sophia spotted her and her cheerful expression instantly melted away.
“What’s wrong?” she mouthed.
“I should have told you sooner. I knew this was gonna happen. I fucked up.”
Charlie turned away again, unbidden tears stinging in the backs of her eyes. He sounded so far away, so drunk and confused. Had he slept with someone else? God, it sounded like he’d slept with someone else.
“I shouldn’t have done it, Charlie, I’m sorry.”
Her heart all but stopped. “Since when do you call me Charlie?”
James didn’t reply and there was a rustling noise as he put his phone back into his pocket. Charlie wanted to scream at him, cry, beg for answers, but James couldn’t hear her even if he was sober. “Wow. Weird night.”
She hung up.
Somewhere inside she was hurting but the shock was too fresh. She walked back to her friends without feeling her shoes touch the ground. Three pairs of concerned eyes locked on her own.
“Honey, is everything good—okay?” Sophia was clearly trying to pull her sober self together.
“James was trying to apologize.”
Jordan’s face was stony. “For what?”
“I think he slept with someone else.”
“Slut!” Hayley screamed, alarming several people nearby.
Sophia leaned forward, stroking Charlie’s face like she was a bunny. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
More tears prickled in the back of Charlie’s eyes. She was so fucking stupid for doing this, so dumb to think that what they’d done at her studio would change anything at all. “Y-you guys must think I’m the biggest sap in the world,” she whispered.
“We don’t think that at all, sugar.” Sophia continued petting her face. “James is obviously hung up on you. This is just what he does. Dumps girls, hurts them, runs away. Screws their sisters. And their moms.”
Charlie stared down at the sticky carpet. “We had sex without condoms.”
Hayley and Sophia exchanged looks of horror. Jordan seized her by the shoulders and shook her hard. “What is wrong with you, Charlie? He’s dirty. He’s a dirty, dirty man.”
“He isn’t, I just—I guess I thought we were going in a whole other direction. I trusted him. Oh God, I’ve really dicked this up, haven’t I?”
Sophia drew Charlie into her arms, kissing her forehead over and over. “From the way he was acting, anyone would have thought you two were together,” she said between kisses. “He really went above and beyond the call of fucking you over.”
Hayley’s redheaded suitor came back with a couple of shots but she waved him away. “I’m comforting my friend. I’ll hook up with you later, Ron.”
Charlie half-laughed, half-sobbed as the redhead stumbled off.
Hayley turned on Charlie with fire in her eyes. “Do you want me to kick his ass? I didn’t beat up Dale, but I honestly feel like fighting this corn-fed fuck stick more.”
Sophia nodded enthusiastically.
“Don’t do that.” Charlie wiped the tears from her eyes. “He’s not like that. He never made me any promises…”
“You want to keep sleeping with him, don’t you?” asked Jordan, her eyes narrowed. “You’re going to keep seeing him even though he screwed some other girl.”
“Yes.” Charlie hated herself slightly but it was the truth. She’d realized it as soon as she’d hung up. She’d never been the jealous type and the thought of not having James outweighed any kind of right to monogamy. “He and I aren’t a couple. We were never a couple. I was the one who lost sight of that with all this dinner and cuddling weirdness. I don’t want it to be over.”
Jordan pursed her pink lips. “Look, Charlie, just get your shit together and talk to James. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You can keep screwing but you need to pull away a little. And for the love of God don’t let him know he hurt you.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Then you have to get out of the game,” Jordan pointed out. “But there are ways of doing these things without getting hurt. I’ve done it, Hayley’s done it, even Sophia had a fling with that weird bass player.”
“He was a drummer.”
“Whatever. You can do this, Charlie, you’re so much stronger than you realize. You can deal with an asshole like James, just let us show you how.”
Hayley began a slow clap. “Jordan you are so wise and amazing and beautiful and you’re thinking like a man but you’re better than a man because you’re a lady.”
“Jesus, Hayley, you’re not going to try and make out with her again, are you?” asked Sophia.
“Maybe.” Hayley, wriggled her eyebrows. “Charlie, would it make you smile if I did that?”
Charlie gave her a watery grin. “Probably.”
“All right then.” Hayley rubbed her hands together. “Jordan, prepare to get kissed.”
Sophia seized a handful of Hayley’s hair and tugged. “Enough, weirdos.” She stood up, taking control as she always did.
“Charlie, talk to James tomorrow. Hayley, find Ron if you’re horny. We’re hitting the dance floor. My slut cousin is not ruining my pre-bachelorette party.”
Chapter 18
James woke up on a scratchy woolen sofa, vomit burning in his nose. He stumbled int
o the nearby bathroom to retch. When it was over he rinsed his mouth out under the tap.
Weaker than a newborn and sick to his stomach, he eased his body back onto the sofa, trying to unscramble the last twelve hours. He’d arrived at Will’s house around three in the afternoon. He’d spent the night before drinking with cousins and old school friends. Will’s wife had emerged like she was the queen of fucking England in a silvery one-piece jumpsuit. She looked old, he thought with a vicious satisfaction. She wasn’t a twenty-three-year-old dancer anymore. The sun went down and the gathering had doubled, then tripled until dozens of cars had pulled up on the front lawn. He remembered Will running out to give people shit about parking on his rose bushes.
After that everything was a blur of drinks and half-familiar faces. The last thing he could remember was some of little sister’s friends stripping off and jumping into the pool. They had been splashing him, shouting for him to get in. That was it, end of reel.
He didn’t remember coming into the guest house or puking or why he had this bone-deep feeling of guilt. He extracted his phone from his pocket, groaning at the flare of light shining into his bleary eyes. Two things made his shriveled stomach churn; a call to Charlotte at two in the morning and a text from Sophia at five o’clock. It simply said “slut.” They weren’t the kind of cousins who exchanged sexually-charged insults so he assumed the text had something to do with the call he made.
Oh no, oh no. Oh fuck.
James jumped up much faster than he should have and rushed back to the mirror, wincing as he pulled his shirt over his head. He inspected his back and shoulders, no scratches, lipstick or love bites, not that this proved anything. Condoms. He frantically checked for his wallet, but it wasn’t anywhere to be found. Collapsing back on the couch, James pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He couldn’t remember hitting on anyone, but if a girl had come onto him…would he have stopped her? He’d learned fifteen years ago that he wasn’t to be trusted and now this. Something heavy rolled in his stomach.
Charlotte forgave you, she cares about you, and you went and fucked someone else.
“I don’t know that,” he said to the empty room, fighting the urge to hurl again.
There was only one way to find out. His hands twitched as he scrolled through his contacts, Charlotte Bell was between Charlize Wet Lips and Cherry Tits. Jesus Christ, he was an asshole. He selected Charlotte’s number, reached out to the one girl in billions he wanted to talk to. He didn’t think his heart beat the entire time the phone was ringing.
“Hey, James. How are you feeling?”
Just the way she said his name stirred up all kinds of memories. He could just picture her sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor, pretty as a picture. Inexplicably, arousal battled its way through his nausea and aching head. “I’ve been better. What happened last night, did I call you?” There was a long pause and panic was added to the bullshit sensations already surging through body.
“Yeah, you did. Can I come over tonight and talk to you about it?”
“Of course,” James blurted out.
“Okay, well, I’m teaching at seven. I’ll come around after that?”
“You wanna get something to eat?”
Hopefully he could eat by then. Right now the thought of food was making him dry heave.
“No, it’s okay. See you around eight. Have a good flight.”
The line disconnected abruptly, taking some part of him with it.
The flight home was hell, there was nothing worse than being hungover on a plane. When he did manage to stumble into his apartment, he tried to make himself presentable for her, showering twice, brushing his teeth and spraying on cologne to minimize the alcohol seeping out of his body. He had no idea what was going to happen when Charlotte showed up. Experience told him they were going to fight and he had nothing to explain his sorry behavior. A quick search of his brother’s house revealed neither his wallet nor any evidence of what might have taken place after ten o’clock. Will had been even more hungover than he was and his wife was out with their kids. Not that he would have spoken to Meghan even if she were home.
There was a knock at his front door and James’ heart leapt into his mouth. If his brain wasn’t still sloshing around inside his skull he would have jogged to answer it.
Please don’t be crying, please don’t be crying.
The door swung open and James wanted to laugh at himself for his dramatic assumptions. Charlotte looked calm and gorgeous in black yoga pants and a metallic tank top, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was carrying, of all things, a bunch of bananas. Wildly, James wondered if it was a sex thing, and then she kissed him on the cheek and he stopped thinking. Her presence was like an ice cube on a burn, he felt soothed just by being near her. He led her into the kitchen, where she gaped at his face.
“Whoa, you look…”
“Like shit, I know. You want coffee?”
She nodded and placed the bananas on the counter. “Bananas are the unequivocal hangover cure. I’ve already proved that to Sophia today.”
Somehow James mustered the ability to smile. “Pre-bachelorette party, right? How’d it go?” When he’d found out about the party, he’d tortured himself thinking about all the assholes that would hit on Charlotte at the club, chat her up and buy her drinks in the hope of taking her home. Goddamn hypocrite.
“It was fun. How was your brother’s anniversary party?”
“All right.”
This felt forced, discussing their weekends like they didn’t both know why she was here. Luckily, Charlotte wasn’t an upper class Southerner and she wasn’t content to suffer though awkwardness.
“So about your phone call…?”
James handed her a coffee in one of the plain white mugs he rarely used. His kitchen was like a showroom, bland and completely devoid of character. “I don’t remember what I said. Or much of anything.”
“I guessed that.” Charlotte sipped her coffee and made a face. “Do you want me to tell you what you said?”
No. He wanted to live in denial, but that wasn’t really an option. “Why not? Not like I can feel any worse.”
Charlotte grimaced. “When you called I couldn’t really hear you over the music, but you kept apologizing. You said you fucked up and you couldn’t do this anymore.” She screwed up her noise, as though unsure of how to proceed. “I thought—my general impression was that you’d slept with someone else.”
James’s hangover pressed down on him like a car compactor. “I can’t confirm it, but I can’t fucking deny it either, baby.” He winced. He didn’t deserve to call Charlotte baby. “I’m really sorry.”
“So am I. This was the perfect opportunity to trick you into thinking you want a sex change and I blew it.”
James looked at her to see her smiling mischievously at him. Was she actually trying to cheer him up after how he acted? Why wasn’t she crying and slapping his face? Who was this strange fairy woman? James put his hands on his head and exhaled. “I don’t know if anything happened with someone else, Charlotte. I was wasted, I don’t remember a single word I said to you. I can’t imagine screwing someone else but I have no fucking idea why I would call and apologize otherwise. Jesus, the fact that I don’t even know…you must think I’m such an asshole.”
Charlotte slipped a small cool hand over his. “I don’t. Whether or not anything happened isn’t the point, James. You and I aren’t together, even if something did happen it’s not cheating. You don’t have to feel bad. When I was sixteen I got drunk and called my ex-boyfriend’s mum. She thought I was a sex line.”
James laughed even though it made his head ache.
Charlotte sighed. “I think the problem is that I messed up. I thought we were more serious than we are. Now it feels like we’re in a bizarre, unofficial relationship and you have to be accountable to me. I don’t want that.”
“You don’t?”
She hesitated. “I guess it’s about time we cleared th
at up.”
James’ stomach churned and he wished she’d stop looking at him with her huge, hentai-girl eyes.
“It’s all gotten way too confusing between us, with the dinners and you asking me to move in and threatening to beat up my ex.” Her lips twisted. “The unprotected sex.”
James cringed.
“I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’ve avoided talking to you about having a relationship because, well, I kind of have a huge crush on you and I didn’t want this to end.”
James’ chest inflated. He already knew that in a lot of ways, but somehow hearing Charlotte admit her feelings for him made him feel like a fucking king.
If only you deserved it, asshole.
“So I’m going to ask you what I should have asked you ages ago.”
James’s heart pounded hard and fast.
“Are you interested in me?” She blushed. “I mean, other than sexually?
James felt like she’d struck him in his bloated, hungover head.
Charlotte smiled, but her eyes were sad. “All you have to do is answer honestly.”
He held up his hands. “Yeah, I-I like you, Charlotte, I like spending time with you.”
“I mean do you want to date? Exclusively. Become a couple?”
James screwed up his eyes. “Charlotte, you’re leaving soon.”
“Please don’t say that. If I thought there was something here worth staying for, I’d stay. Do you want me to stay?”
James exhaled. His temples thudded. What Charlotte was suggesting wasn’t possible. He didn’t know the first thing about keeping a woman happy, or discussing his feelings. He didn’t know how to be a boyfriend. Whenever his trifling relationships extended past a few weeks he got frustrated and mean and his eyes wandered. Who was he to string her along for a month or a year and force her to extend her visa and stay away from her family only to discover she’d wasted her time?
“No, darlin’, I think last night proves I’m not ready to be your man.” Much as I might wish otherwise, getting together would make both of us hate me more than we already do.
Charlotte touched his arm. “Thank you for saying that, James. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
Degrees of Control Page 18
