Page 78 of Mr. Charming

I walked to the door, tears pushing at the corners of my eyes the entire time. He rushed to stop me, slamming his hand on the door and shutting it before I got a chance to open it fully.

“Don’t go,” he whispered. He caged me against the door, his chest to my back, and for a moment, my hand slipped from the doorknob. He leaned his head in close, inhaling me.

It would have been so easy to stop, turn around, and let him try to convince me that what we’d done the night before was a good idea. But the voice that had been decimated by the loss of this man was louder than any others inside me, telling me we’d just end up at the same place if we did. Lost. Hurt. Alone.

I placed my hand back on the doorknob. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

He stepped back, removing his hand from the back of the door, and I walked out and down the hall, not allowing myself to shed one tear until I was out of the hotel.

Thirty-Six

Tedi

I have no idea how I outsmarted Tweetie, but I don’t take a deep breath until I’m behind my apartment door.

My shaking hands squeeze into fists. It’s all crashing down, the reality of the position I’m in. I’ve been living in a make-believe world thinking I could pretend to have a boyfriend, pretend that the memories of Tweetie and me didn’t plague me every time he was around. I’ve been a total fool.

I shrug off my jacket and kick off my shoes, then open my freezer and grab my cookies and cream ice cream. I look out the windows that face Lake Michigan and try to figure out how I get out of this.

I could call Saige, but I’m not in the mood to dissect this with anyone just yet.

A spoonful of ice cream is almost to my lips when a knock sounds on my door. I freeze.

“Tedi!”

Tweetie. Fuck, how does he know where I live?

Shit. I’m a complete moron. He saw me home that night from the airport.

“Eventually, you’ll have to see me.”

I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at the closed door.

“Put the ice cream down.”

I grunt and roll my eyes again.

He knocks again. “Tedi, I know you’re in there.”

He acts as if he can smell me, like in one of those romance books with vampires and wolves and fae princes named Rowan Whitethorn.

“You’re going to be up all night if we don’t just settle this. All I want to do is talk.” I hear a thud on the door and wonder if it’s his forehead because he’s as exhausted as I am. Exhausted from trying to outrun the past.

I stick the spoon into the quart of ice cream and slowly walk to the door and open it. Tweetie stands with both hands on the top of the doorframe, leaning forward. Jeez, why is that pose as sexy as it is?

He picks up his head with a shocked expression that I opened the door. “Hey.” He says the singular word in his easygoing drawl that only makes me remember how much my love for this man never waned.

I step back, letting him in. I guess we’re doing this.

“Good?” he asks, dramatically raising his foot, leaving it elevated over the doorway.

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes again for good measure, walking away.

“Huh, I was right.” He eyes the ice cream as I take the spoon out and put the lid on before dropping it back in the freezer.

“You’re not a genius. You’ve known me for, like, thirteen years.”

I lay the spoon in my sink and round the counter, heading over to the uncomfortable couch. He follows me, and soon, we’re both seated. Sure, there’s a cushion between us, but all I can think about is how little space that really is.

---