“Took you longer than I thought it would.”
“How did you know I would come?” I ask.
He smirks at me but I can tell he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s kind of our thing. One of us running after the other after something dramatic happens to talk about it or figure it out. We may just be really nosy people,” he ends with a joke, making me smile.
“Oh, we have another ‘thing.’ Don’t let Noah find out. Yesterday, we each got stung by a wasp and he said ‘Hey, maybe being stung by wasps can be our thing? Or even any other type of insect that can bite or sting?’” I laugh, recalling the incident and his hopefulness at finally having found a potential “thing.” “Poor guy will not give up.”
Sitting down on the bed, I cross my legs. “Back to the subject at hand, what happened back there?”
He sits down across from me. “I punched the mayor.”
Thank you, Mr. I-State-the-Obvious. “Yes, I know that. Why?”
He’s about to say something when I quickly interrupt him. “And don’t say because he deserved it.”
He gives me a look with a raised brow, as if to say, Really?
“He did deserve it,” he mumbles before looking me straight in the eye. “Andrew Kessler is my biological father.”
It takes me three full Mississippis to process exactly what he just said.
“Your biological father?” I repeat dumbly back to him.
“Yeah.”
“The mayor of this city is the man who left you when you were a kid, while your mom had cancer and was pregnant with twins, because he didn’t want to pay for all the expenses?! That man is the mayor? Who’s running for governor?!”
I don’t think I can wrap my brain around this. The man Aiden described was a deadbeat. He walked out on his family because he didn’t want to deal with the bills. He left a son and a sick, pregnant wife at home to fend for themselves. But he’s the mayor?
Oh my God. This whole time Aiden’s been seeing commercials and posters and hearing about how Andrew Kessler is campaigning about being a family man, about fighting for low income families, about loving kids and caring for single parents, knowing full well that he’s the biggest phony and hypocrite?
“That’s him,” he replies to my mostly rhetorical question.
“Are you—are you positive that’s him?” I ask, not because I doubt Aiden, but just because I feel like that’s something that should be asked.
Aiden’s face hardens, his jaw sets with determination, and his fists clench in his lap.
“Of course I’m sure. That pathetic excuse for a man’s face is engraved in my memory. He put my mom through hell. Everything I went through with Greg was because of him. He can change his last name to disguise his past, but he’ll always be the same disgusting deadbeat.”
Poor Aiden. I try to mask my facial expression so he doesn’t see the slight pity I feel. I scoot over and wrap my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder in what I hope is a supportive embrace. Aiden leans into me, allowing himself a rare moment to be vulnerable and comforted, his hand mindlessly rubbing small, slow circles on my back.
“What makes it worse is that he’s fucking loaded now,” Aiden says. “Does he not wonder about us? About my mom? About his kids, who he’s never met?”
“I—I don’t know, Aiden. What did you say to him when you went up to him? What did he say to you? Did you always plan on punching him?”
Aiden’s head tilts to the side, contemplating my questions. “To be honest, I don’t really know what I was planning on doing when I walked up to him. I was just really angry. When I walked up to him, I called his name, and he looked at me, studied me. I’m not sure if he recognized me or not. But he replied ‘How can I help you, son?’ And then my body just took over.”
I pull him even closer to me, not really knowing what to say, but before I can even think of a reply, we hear a loud crash and a bang from upstairs. We look at each other and get up, rushing out of his room and upstairs toward the noise, which we can still hear. It sounds like … yelling?
We follow the noise to my room, Aiden slightly in front of me as if preparing to protect me from whatever is on the other side of the door. It’s already slightly open, but Aiden pushes it open wide, and what we see leaves me completely shell-shocked.
Noah, who’s only in his boxers, is lying on the floor under a very livid Chase, who’s currently punching Noah in the face.
My eyes flicker from them to the other person in the room. Sitting in bed, clutching the sheets to her bare chest, is Charlotte, shouting in confusion and anger for them to stop, her cheeks tinged red with embarrassment.
I feel completely unable to do anything as my brain registers the scene that’s unfolding around me. Aiden recovers quicker. He rushes into the room and breaks them up, pulling a livid Chase off of Noah, who seems to have let his emotions completely take over. Chase shakes Aiden off of him and storms out of the room without a second glance at anyone. We hear the front door slam moments later.
“What the hell is his problem?” Noah demands, shrugging on a pair of jeans that were discarded on the floor.
Aiden and I glance at each other. We both know exactly what Chase’s problem is. I look at Charlotte, who’s still slightly traumatized and clutching the sheet to her chest.
“Why don’t we give you guys a minute?” I suggest, pulling Aiden out of the room and closing the door behind us.
We stand in the hall, staring at each other.
“You don’t think they were—” I start, and Aiden’s silent gaze tells me exactly what he thinks they were doing.
I sigh, and my shoulders slump as I frown at the floor. “Chase walked in on the love of his life and his best friend getting it on?”
Aiden shrugs. “That’s kind of what it looked like.”
Shit. Poor Chase. “Should I go after him? He couldn’t have gotten that far, I can probably still catch up with him.”
Aiden shakes his head. “I really don’t think he wants to talk to you, or anyone else, right now.”
My frown deepens. “So what do we do?”
Aiden puts his hand on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing soothing circles and leaving a trail of sparks from his touch. “Just be there for him when he’s ready to talk.”
The door to my room opens, revealing a fully clothed Noah. His cheek looks like it’s starting to swell, but other than that there doesn’t seem to be any damage.
Charlotte is sitting on the edge of the bed, also fully clothed, wringing her hands and wearing a nervous expression.
“Where did he go?” she asks me when I walk into the room.
“I don’t know. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
Noah runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t even understand what happened. You guys weren’t even supposed to be home!”
I exchange a glance with Aiden before answering Noah. “Aiden kind of punched the mayor in the face.”
“What?” Charlotte and Noah ask in perfect unison.
“What does ‘kind of’ mean?” Noah inquires. “And why?”
“That’s not important.” Aiden waves him off. “Why was Chase in here in the first place?”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte says, looking completely defeated. “He just walked in and stared at us, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then just came over and grabbed Noah, and started hitting him. I don’t understand why.”
She looks heartbroken. She knows why Chase reacted like that, even if she won’t admit it, even if she refuses to think about it. Deep down, she knows seeing her with Noah like that hurt him, really hurt him. She knows something has shifted in her friendship with Chase. I honestly don’t know if it will ever be the same between the two of them.
Noah sits down beside Charlotte on the bed. “I make fun of you guys all the time for not locking your door when you’re getting it on.”
“We’re never getting it—”
Noah ignores my protest and continues. “B
ut the one time someone decides to walk in on me is the one time I forget to lock the door.”
He sighs and flops backward onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Does he hate me?”
No one answers Noah’s question, because out of nowhere, Charlotte bursts into tears. The look on Aiden’s and Noah’s faces would almost be comical if not for the situation; they look horrified. Charlotte sobs into her hands, putting her feet on the bed and resting her head on her knees. Aiden and Noah both look at me, silently pleading with me to take control of the situation.
I throw them a bone. “Why don’t you guys go see where everyone else is?”
The boys don’t hesitate to run out of the room as fast as they possibly can, closing the door behind them and barely giving us a second glance. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at their ridiculousness, I sit down beside Charlotte and put my arm around her. I don’t say anything, I just let her cry and feel whatever emotions she needs to feel.
“I’m a horrible friend,” she says once she calms down a bit.
“You’re not a horrible friend, Char.”
She puts her feet back on the floor and shifts on the bed to face me. “But I am! Chase is my best friend and he’s never going to even be able to look at me again. He hates me now.”
I always thought Charlotte was oblivious to Chase’s feelings for her. Did she always know?
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” I reassure her as she wipes the tears off her face. “Why do you think that?”
“He walked in on me and Noah. And the way he reacted …” She sighs. “He has feelings for me, doesn’t he?” she finishes in a small voice, looking down at her hands in her lap.
A small part of my brain wants to yell Duh! but the other part says I shouldn’t be a hypocrite. Apparently, everyone knew that Mason was in love with me and I had no idea, or maybe I just didn’t want to accept it, so I can’t blame Charlotte for not knowing about Chase.
“Did you really have no idea?” I ask her gently.
“No? I mean yes?” She huffs out an agitated breath. “Maybe?”
A corner of my lip turns up. “Maybe?”
“Well, I don’t know! Sometimes Drunk Chase says things, but we all know Drunk Chase is a different person. It was never confirmed. It still isn’t.”
“That wasn’t confirmation enough?” I tease.
“I guess I’ll have to have a real conversation with him when he gets back from wherever he went off to,” she says.
What they’ll talk about and what she’ll tell him, I’m not sure.
“What about Noah?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
She doesn’t know? She was ready to fool around with him and she doesn’t know how she feels about him?
“I know you’re dying to ask, but no, we haven’t slept together before. If Chase didn’t walk in that probably would’ve been our first time together.”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, still looking down at her lap. It’s so weird seeing Charlotte like this. She’s usually so happy and cheery and filled with life. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this sad or conflicted.
“It wasn’t planned. It just kind of happened.” She pauses. “Okay, I guess nothing really happened, but you know what I mean.”
I nod. Everyone knows you don’t need to be in love with someone to have some fun with them, as long as everyone consents.
“Do you think Noah has any feelings for you?” I can’t stop myself from asking. I never thought Noah had feelings for Charlotte, but then again, I never thought to look.
She sighs. “I don’t think so? I think we were just having some fun, and one thing led to another. But now Chase’s feelings are hurt. What am I going to say to him?”
I don’t know what to say to make her feel better, if there even is something I can say to make her feel better. I settle for what I think is best.
“You’ll figure out what you want eventually. It may be bad right now, but everything will settle down. Chase won’t stay mad forever. Just follow your heart.”
She’s not looking at me, but I look away from her so she can’t see the hypocrisy in my eyes. If only I could take my own advice. I still have the weight of telling Mason about our parents and telling Aiden about my leaving hanging over my head, but I’m not planning on doing either of those anytime soon.
16
My grumbling stomach wakes me up earlier than I would like the morning after the whole Chase and Noah thing. Everyone is still sleeping as I tiptoe down the stairs to fix some breakfast, the early morning sun streaming through the windows lighting my way.
When I get to the bottom of the stairs I pause. There’s a form lying on the couch, shifting as I get closer.
“Chase?” I whisper, not knowing if he’s sleeping.
By the time I went to bed, no one had seen or heard from him since he’d stormed out of the house. We didn’t know where he went, and he wouldn’t answer our calls or texts. At least he’s here now and I know he’s okay, or mostly okay.
Aiden told me that the longer the night went on, the more pissed Noah was getting about the whole thing. Noah was fuming about it since he didn’t understand why his friend would ‘Cockblock him like that,’ and ‘Go apeshit on his ass for no reason.’ Aiden confirmed what everyone kind of knew but never talked about, and explained that Chase walked in on his best friend getting it on with the love of his life. Noah felt really bad about it after that.
“Amelia?” Chase asks groggily, sitting up to look at me.
Once I get closer to the couch and can actually see him clearly, I throw my hands over my eyes to stop the sight from permanently scarring me. Chase is as naked as the day he was born.
“Why are you not wearing any clothes?!” Did he walk home naked?! I don’t see any clothes thrown on the floor.
“I have no idea,” Chase grumbles. “To be honest, most of last night and this morning are pretty spotty.”
Peeping through my fingers to look at him again, I keep my eyes trained on his face.
“Jesus, Chase. Did you get black-out drunk last night?”
I toss a pillow at him as he mumbles an incoherent reply, before finally removing my hand from my face. That’s when I realize he technically isn’t as naked as the day he was born.
“What is that stuff all over you?” I ask him, but then my brain clicks in on something he said a long time ago about what happens when he gets black-out drunk.
“Are you covered in barbeque sauce and—” I lean in closer to him. “Are those Froot Loops?”
Chase looks down at his body as if noticing the mess for the first time.
“Huh. I guess my drunk ass couldn’t find the Cheerios and settled for the next best thing.”
I sigh and sit down on the part of the couch that isn’t covered in BBQ sauce and Froot Loops. Chase is such a mess, and I don’t mean just his outward appearance.
“Are you okay, Chase?”
He laughs a flat, emotionless laugh. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be okay? I lost the girl of my dreams to my best friend. I’m just peachy.”
“Chase.” I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know how to make this better, how to make him better. “They didn’t know.”
Chase slouches back on the couch, shifting the pillow to make sure it still covers everything, and turns his head to look at me. “How could they not know? Everyone else seemed to see it! Even Jason and Jackson asked me when I was going to marry Charlotte!”
“Noah and Char feel terrible about it.” I try to comfort him, but that only seems to make him angrier.
“They don’t feel bad about it! They feel bad that they got caught.”
“Chase—”
“I know what you’re going to tell me.” He interrupts me, looking slightly defeated, the light dimmed from his eyes. “I don’t own Charlotte and I can’t tell her who she can and can’t have sex with, but still. It had to be my best friend?”
I was thinki
ng that, but I didn’t have the heart to say that to him. He’s hurting—it sucks to see the person you love with someone else, and Chase had to walk in on that firsthand without any warning.
“I just wish I could go back and tell Charlotte how I feel. I know I could make her happy if I just had the balls to say something to her. But now it’s too late. She’s with him now.”
It hurts me to notice that he keeps referring to her as Charlotte instead of Charlie, his pet name for her, which she hates so much. Have things shifted so much that he doesn’t see her as the same person anymore?
“Char isn’t with anyone,” I tell him. “She’s her own person and can make her own decisions. But she doesn’t know how she feels. It could’ve just been an in the moment thing. It’s not too late to tell her how you feel. You’re going to have to have a real conversation with her.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything.” He sighs. “If she wanted to be with me, she wouldn’t have been with him.”
That slightly angers me. Chase, like Mason, goes around hooking up with random girls all the time, then doesn’t understand when the girl he loves doesn’t realize that he loves her!
“If you wanted to be with her, you wouldn’t confuse her by hooking up with other girls.”
“I told you why—”
“I know you told me why,” I interrupt, sitting up straighter as I shift into talk some sense into him mode. “‘You’re not good enough for her and it’ll ruin your friendship and you’re trying to move on,’ blah, blah, blah. It’s too late to go back and change anything, but it’s not too late to fix your friendship with Char. And Noah.”
“But—”
“No.” I wasn’t done yet. “You already walked in on her and probably scarred her for life; you’re going to have to talk things out anyway. Telling her how you feel can’t possibly make things any worse or more awkward than they’re going to be now.”
“What if she chooses Noah?”
“First of all, we don’t even know if Noah likes her, or if she likes him.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I continue anyway, deciding to be brutally honest because he needs to hear it. “But if she happens to choose him and they decide to give it a try, be happy for her. Charlotte doesn’t owe you anything, Chase, but you’re her best friend and I know she wouldn’t want to lose you, just like you wouldn’t want to lose her.”
Stay With Me (A Wattpad Novel) Page 16
