“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Yeah, it was rough. I don’t remember much about it. I was only four then, but Troy took it really hard. He doesn’t do pools now.”
As angry as I am with Troy, I can’t help the guilt that sneaks into my heart. The sentiment is strange and not exactly logical. There’s no correlation to Troy’s prank and his early childhood ordeal.
“Well, I’m afraid of heights,” Ben shares. “Probably because I fell from the neighbor’s tree house when I was younger.”
“Oh, I was the same way until Troy took me bungee jumping. You should try it.”
Ben scrunches his eyebrows together. “Eh, I don’t know.”
“I’m sure if you ask Troy, he’ll take you too.”
I’m ready to put the kibosh on that idea, but Ben is quicker in replying, “I don’t think so. He’s mean.”
Mental facepalm. Ben can be so blunt sometimes.
Jane furrows her eyebrows together. “Troy is mean? That’s news to me. He can be a pain in the butt, especially when he enters protective mode, but I’ve never seen him act mean on purpose.”
Ben opens his mouth to offer a retort, but I cut in before he says too much. “I never got a chance to ask the last time we hung out. Do you already know where you’re going next year?”
“Ugh, don’t even get me started on that. I want to stay here and go to Rushmore, but my father is pushing Stanford.”
“Stanford is a great school,” Ben pipes up.
“I know, but that’s not my dream, you know?”
I turn my gaze to the house once more. Jane and Ben continue the conversation, but my thoughts are not in the here and now. They’re with Troy.
Was he telling the truth when he said he didn’t prank me? My head is telling me he’s full of shit. Who else would have done it? But my heart is torn.
Shit. I’m a mess. That’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming.
20
TROY
I left the party as soon as I realized I couldn’t hang out with Charlie and pretend I wasn’t furious with her for accusing me of something I didn’t do. That prank had Andreas’s hands all over it, and he had plenty of time to plant a fake bath bomb when he came over on game night. He didn’t pick up the phone when I called earlier, but as I drive without direction back from the party, I try the jerkface again.
“Troy? What’s up?” he shouts over the phone. There’s a lot of noise in the background. Considering the time, he’s most likely in the locker room, getting ready for the game.
“Did you put a fake bath bomb in Charlie’s stuff?” I ask.
“Oh yeah.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Why? Did Charlie take a bath?”
“Yes, asshole. And now she thinks I’m responsible for it.”
He laughs, making me grind my teeth. “Please tell me you snapped some pictures for me. I’d love to see the look on her face.”
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t call to congratulate you. I told you I was done fighting with her. Why the fuck did you have to take matters into your own hands?”
“Ah, quit the whining, man. It was just a harmless prank. Get over it.”
“I’ll get over it when you stop being a fucking meddler.”
“Yeah, yeah. You sound like a whipped pussy. Just fuck the girl already and move on. This beta shit you have going on doesn’t suit you. I want my friend back.”
Coach Clarkson’s booming voice echoes in the background. It’s time for the pregame talk.
“I have to go,” Andreas tells me. “I’ll call you later.”
He ends the call, which means I have to swallow all my angry retorts as if they were a bitter pill.
In hindsight, it’s better this way. I don’t want to get into a fight with Andreas over Charlie. We’ve been friends for years, whereas Charlie is just an annoying brat I have to put up with.
Do you, Troy? Really?
I’ve given her a chance, and if the last month has proven anything, it’s that we’re too different to get along. Grandma can’t say I didn’t try. However, I can’t live with a person who doesn’t trust me. Who’s to say Charlie isn’t plotting another bit of revenge right now? Fuck that. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder in my own house.
I make the decision to ask Charlie to move out, but I don’t return home until hours later. Instead, I head to the private beach club where Dad has a membership for all of us and chill by the beach. I can’t handle pools, but the sea has always captivated me. I love surfing, and if it weren’t for football, I might have dedicated more time to it. The idea of traveling the world, chasing the perfect wave, sounds epic.
But as much as the ocean usually calms me, it isn’t having the desired effect today. My chest feels unbearably heavy. I thought that after I made up my mind, I’d feel better. Not the case.
There’s no sense in postponing what I have to do. It’s time to go home.
* * *
CHARLIE
I didn’t see Troy at the party again. Not that I was looking. Yeah, right.
We didn’t stay long. No surprise there, considering Mom’s mood. On the way back to my parents’, I wonder why Mom wanted Ben and me to come. To put on a show? I just know this is the first and last time I agree to a company family event. I’m in college, for crying out loud. There should be a rule that exempts me from bore-fest gatherings like those.
All I know is I can’t wait to go back home and try to get rid of the blue dye. I also want to speak with Troy. Jane’s comment that her brother isn’t mean made me second-guess myself. If I intend to keep sharing a roof with him, I should give him the benefit of the doubt at least. The other times he retaliated, he didn’t hide. Why would he lie about this one?
I’m surprised that when we arrive, my dad’s car is in the garage. Maybe he didn’t really have to work; he simply didn’t feel like going to the party. I can tell by Mom’s face that she’s gearing up for another major fight. I have to get Ben out of the house. Maybe he can stay over. But I erase that idea right away. I don’t want Ben around when I have my talk with Troy, and I certainly don’t want to avoid that conversation. Crap.
Mom is pulling into the driveway when Dad bursts through the garage door, holding Bailey in his arms. Something is wrong.
Mom presses on the brakes, and a second later, I’m out of the car.
“Dad! What happened?”
“Bailey is unresponsive. We need to get her to the vet immediately.”
Mom lowers her window and shouts, “Get in here!”
Dad slides into the back seat, and I get back in the front. I’m not even done putting my seat belt on when Mom puts the car in Reverse and burns rubber. All our problems become irrelevant. Bailey is our girl; we can’t let her die.
There’s a huge lump in my throat, and my eyes are beginning to burn. I turn in my seat to look at her.
“What happened?” I ask through a choke.
“I don’t know. I came home and found her passed out in the kitchen next to a vomit puddle.”
“She hasn’t been herself since yesterday. We should have taken her to the vet, damn it!” Mom hits the steering wheel hard, right before she takes a sharp curve without slowing down.
I don’t comment that they probably would have done that if they hadn’t been busy fighting. But it’s a petty remark and it would help no one. I can guess they must have come to the same conclusion because neither of them speaks again.
We arrive at the vet in five minutes—a drive that usually takes ten. Dad jumps out of the car and takes off to the entrance with me close on his heels. The vet’s assistant immediately tells Dad to bring Bailey to the examination room but forbids the rest of us from going after him. Dejected, I sit in the waiting room with Ben while Mom fills out the forms.
Ben rests his head on my shoulder, and with a tearful voice, he asks, “Do you think Bailey will be okay?”
The “Yes” gets stuck in my throat. I can’t bring myself to lie to him. Bailey is old, and
even if the vet is able to treat her today, it’s only a matter of time before she leaves us forever.
“I don’t know, Ben. We should prepare for the worst.” Fat tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away with the back of my blue hand. My fight with Troy becomes small, unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
“I don’t want Bailey to die,” Ben whines right before his body starts to shake.
I lace my hand with his. “I don’t want to lose her either.”
The wait is torturous but not long. Fifteen minutes later, Dad joins us in the waiting room. His slumped shoulders and teary eyes say it all.
“Dad?” I jump to my feet.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, honey. Our girl is gone. There was nothing Dr. Harper could have done.”
Mom stands too and gives Dad a hug. Ben breaks into an ugly cry, so for his sake, I keep my tears at bay, even though I was crying before. There’s a big hole in my chest now. I don’t want to think what it’ll be like to walk into my parents’ house and not see that golden fur ball run to greet me. Bailey was a staple of my childhood. There are so many wonderful memories, it’s impossible to count them all.
We wait a bit longer for Dad to fill out more paperwork. When we finally get back to the house, Mom wants me to spend the night. But I can’t face the house knowing Bailey won’t be there. I have to get out of here. It’s selfish of me when I think of Ben, but at the same time, that’s what my parents are for. Maybe what happened will finally force them to make up.
“I can’t stay. I have to study for a test tomorrow,” I lie.
“How can you think about tests when Bailey is dead?” Ben cries out.
I open my mouth to defend myself, even though I’m not being truthful, but Dad speaks first, “We all deal with grief differently, buddy. Your sister’s way is losing herself in books.”
His defense feels backhanded, but I won’t complain. He’s giving me a free pass.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Please drive safely, Charlie,” Mom says.
“I will.”
Despite my promise, I barely notice the road on the way back to my house. Everything is a blur. I thought that by putting distance between myself and my parents’ house, the pain would diminish, but it works the other way around. By the time I park in front of my place, the choke in my throat is so immense, it’s making it impossible to breathe. With quick steps, I approach the front porch. My hands are shaking as I try to unlock the door. I veer for the kitchen in desperate need of something strong to alleviate my pain.
I search each cabinet for the bottle of tequila I saw the other day. It isn’t mine, but considering what I’m going through, I don’t think Troy will mind. I finally find it pushed all the way back behind some tortilla chips bags. It’s almost empty, maybe one shot left in it. I’m about to throw it back when Troy comes down the stairs.
His face is solemn when he says, “Charlie, we need to talk.”
21
TROY
The moment Charlie whirls around, I see something is terribly wrong. Her eyes are bloodshot, her face tearstained. She’s clutching an almost empty bottle of tequila as if it were her lifeline.
“What’s wrong?” I breach the distance between us in three long strides.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asks in a small voice.
“It’s not important right now.” I take the bottle from her and set it on the counter. “Tell me what happened.”
She can’t hold my gaze. Her lips quiver as she lowers her eyes to my chest. “It’s…. My dog died today.” She tries to hide a sob by covering her mouth with her hand.
I pull her to me without a second thought, crushing her body to mine in an awkward hug. The sling is in the way. “I’m so sorry, Charlie.”
“I knew she was old, but it was still a shock. She wasn’t sick or anything.”
Charlie steps back, easing out of my embrace. I want to hold on to her longer but catch myself in time.
“How old was she?” I ask.
“Fourteen. I can’t imagine life without her. Bailey was the sweetest dog.” She wipes a tear away, but more keep falling.
I take her hand in mine, then kiss her fingers. She gasps loudly, widening her eyes in surprise. I let go of her, just so I can cup her cheek, rubbing away another tear with my thumb. We don’t speak for a moment, but our eyes remain locked. I’m keenly aware of how fast my heart is beating, how shallow my breathing is.
Before I can stop myself, I lean down and capture her lips with mine. There’s no trace of tequila on them; she didn’t drink a single drop. The kiss is soft, tentative, but when she doesn’t resist, I tease at the seam, prying her lips open with my tongue. I can taste her tears, the saltiness on her lips, but also her effervescent passion that seems to grow at the speed of light.
I step closer, sliding my hand behind her head so she can’t escape. Her hands find my T-shirt, her fingers curling around the fabric while a moan escapes her mouth. The sound sends a shot of desire straight to my cock. With a groan, I spin her around, pressing her ass to the counter.
“Troy,” she murmurs.
“Yes, Charlie?”
“What are we doing?”
I ease off just a little so I can look into her eyes. “I don’t know. Is this not okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away, which tells me everything I need to know. I try to take a step back, but Charlie holds on to my T-shirt.
“This is more than okay.”
She invades my space this time, rising on the tips of her toes to crash her lips to mine. There’s nothing slow or easy about this kiss. It’s fervid, urgent, and sexy as hell. It sets my body ablaze, it melts my bones, and it vanquishes any doubt I had that this was only a matter of physical attraction. I don’t want only her body. I want everything.
If I wasn’t injured, I’d take her in my arms and make a beeline to my room because the things I want to do to her require a bed. Cursing my recovering shoulder, I say between kisses, “Let’s head upstairs.”
“The couch is closer.” She steps back, releasing my shirt to take my hand.
I let her steer me to the living room, and then we’re on the couch, making out like two horny teenagers. There’s only so much I can do with one hand though, but I’m glad Charlie is as eager to explore as I am.
She kisses my neck, sending goose bumps down my spine. “How is your shoulder?” she whispers in my ear.
“It’s fine.”
“Is it okay if I remove the sling?”
“Yeah.”
While she’s busy helping me out of it, my hand disappears under her sweater. Her skin is taut and warm to the touch, and I can’t wait to taste it. Her lips return to mine when the sling is off. I always feel a tension when I move my shoulder, but I’m too busy exploring Charlie’s body to notice. When I brush the underside of her breast, she slides onto my lap, sitting astride me.
“Take off your top,” I tell her.
She pouts. “But I’m blue.”
“So what? I’ve always had a thing for Smurfette.”
She watches me through slits. “Was that the reason you put blue dye in my bath bomb?”
“No, that wasn’t me. Andreas is the culprit. I’m sorry I have stupid friends.” She doesn’t seem angry anymore, so I press. “I’ll take a bath in blue dye to make things even if you want.”
“Do you mean, there are more booby traps in my bathroom?” Her eyebrows arch.
“To be honest, I don’t know. To be safe, I’d get rid of all your bath supplies.”
“Would you really turn blue for me?” She bites her lower lip, driving me further insane with need.
I kiss her again, unable to resist the temptation, while I slide my hand up, cupping her breast over her bra. She doesn’t stop me, so I push the fabric aside to play with her nipple. It’s as hard as a pebble and begging for attention.
“Damn it, Troy. You’re really working your case.”
I chuckle. “I’m ver
y motivated. You smell so good, Charlie.” I trace her jawline with my tongue, moving along to the side of her neck.
She grabs my arms, digging her fingers in while arching her back.
“Fine. You win,” she breathes out.
I lean back and search her eyes. There’s redness in them, which makes me feel guilty for a second. Charlie is dealing with grief, and here I am, taking advantage of her.
“As much as I want you, maybe we shouldn’t continue.”
She frowns. “Why not?”
I trace her hairline with the tips of my fingers, then tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve been through a lot today, sweetheart.”
Regret immediately takes hold of me when her eyes well with tears. Fuck. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Is that the only reason you want to stop? Because you believe I’m not thinking straight?”
I nod, afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll say another stupid thing.
She captures my face between her hands. “I’ve never been more certain about anything, Troy. I’m tired of fighting my feelings. If anything, what happened today has made things clearer to me.”
I see nothing but determination and sincerity in her gaze.
“Then fucking kiss me like there’s no tomorrow. Don’t hold back.”
She heeds my words, covering my mouth with hers. I tangle my fingers in her hair, pulling her even closer to me. Risking pain, I reach for her waist with my right arm. I want her pinned to my body until she’s molded to me. I’m about to combust on the spot, but when Charlie begins to grind her pelvis against mine, I lose my mind completely.
“These clothes need to go,” she says before I can.
“Fuck yeah.”
Thanks to my injured shoulder, the process of getting rid of our clothes takes longer than I’d like. She helps me first, pulling my T-shirt off carefully and then lobbing it aside. She stops for a moment to take in my naked chest, staring with hunger in her eyes.
Heart Stopper: Rebels of Rushmore Book One Page 11
