Page 30 of Catching Coy
And then his thoughts would spin, and he’d wonder about what the coming weeks held for him and Bellamy. He hadn’t even officially met Mrs. Hansen yet. And once he had dedicated time with Bellamy, would the electricity that sparked between them at every “forbidden” moment fizzle away? Was he sending home Charlotte in favor of a big “what if”?
All of it was a big what if. He drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as heels tapped across the wooden gym floor and Agnes led the women to their spots, cameras already rolling in the somber atmosphere, filled with far more tension than any of the previous weeks. True to ratcheting up the drama, they’d placed Gillian and Lucy next to each other. Lucy smirked at Coy when she stepped into place; Gillian stood stiffly, her eyes sad when she gazed at Coy. Like the week before, Bellamy gripped the skirt of a draping, ivory dress with a gold scallop pattern and belted waist. Charlotte’s smile was shaky as she took her spot and he watched her draw in a deep breath as well.
He didn’t know if he could let her go home. On the date, when everything had blown up between Lucy and Gillian, she’d held his hand and just walked with him for several minutes, telling him she was ready to listen when he was ready to talk. He’d thought he’d want to unload on her the way Bellamy wouldn’t let him, but they ended up chatting about their high school experiences.
“Coy?” Charlotte’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he found her standing just a couple of feet from him. “Can I talk to you before you start picking?”
He glanced over at Agnes, who gave a quick nod. “Of course.” He moved to take her hand, but she walked away from the bleachers he stood in front of toward the doors that led into the gym lobby without taking it. She opened one door and he held it and then followed her out into the dim lobby. A few seconds later, a camera woman had followed as well.
“Charlotte? What’s up?” He had to tell himself not to stand between her and the camera. The camera woman would just move anyway.
“I want you to cut me today.” She held his gaze for a moment after she said it, then her eyes sheened over and she looked at her hands, twisting in front of her. “Guilt free, no worries—just one condition.”
His throat was closing. He hated the idea of losing Charlotte, even if it was just to have another ally here, another friend he could trust wouldn’t stir up trouble. “What’s that?”
“Send Lucy home too.” Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper, but he didn’t think she did it to hide her words.
“Charlotte?” He put a finger under her chin and tilted it back up toward him. She swallowed and blinked back more moisture. He pulled her into a hug. “What’s going on?” he asked over the top of her head.
“I want what’s best for you. I hate getting into the middle of this, but it’s the best way I can think to protect you here.” She leaned back, meeting his gaze for only the second time since they’d begun talking.
“You know that by saying what you just did, it means I can’t let you go. That you’d send yourself home in an effort to save me from whatever you’re worried about with Lucy?” He stepped back to pull a handkerchief from his pocket and hand it to her. Gunner had warned him that a lot of tears would be spilled during the filming and that handkerchiefs looked far more suave than tissues.
She dabbed at her eyes as she chuckled with him. “I’m trying to be your friend. That’s all.”
“Are you telling me this because you don’t feel a connection with me?” He chewed on his lip. He felt like things had been good for them. Maybe not can’t-keep-my-hands-off-you electricity like with Bellamy and Lucy, but a closeness he needed.
She shook her head. “No. No, this is one of the hardest things I’ve done. I didn’t want to tell you that. I want this to be guilt free for you so you can finish this without worries.”
“I’m dating four different women right now. There’s no such thing as no worries,” he said. She laughed again and her shoulders seemed more relaxed than when they’d first come out. “So then … tell me about Lucy if you’re willing to walk away because of her.”
She shook her head again, frowning. “I won’t gossip. My mother taught me better.”
“Facts aren’t gossip,” he argued.
She gripped his hands again. “Just let me do the honorable thing here without getting all muddy in this mess.”
“I can’t send two people home tonight. It will put us off schedule.”
“They’ll figure it out. Do this for you.” She tilted her head at him, biting her lip again.
He hugged her one more time. “We’ll see.” Then he took her hand and led her back inside.
* * *
Lucy watchedthem walk back toward Charlotte’s mark, where Coy left her and returned to his spot. Her smile was tight. When she turned toward Charlotte, she kept the smile in place, raising her brows ever so slightly. A glance back at Charlotte told Coy that she’d looked away. He looked to Bellamy, his gaze pleading with her to tell him what to do.
“Please,” he mouthed.
She shifted her gaze to Lucy’s side of the room, then gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She turned her gaze to Charlotte—and nodded.
Decision made. Bellamy had given him advice for the first time, and he was going to take it.
He picked up the first jersey. “This week … has shown me how difficult this process is, for you women as well, and after tonight, it will only get harder. I don’t take your feelings lightly, but I don’t take mine lightly either. So … here goes.” He had to turn and meet each woman’s gaze as he readied to say the first name, per Agnes’ instructions. Gillian’s eyes were full of tears, so he glanced away. He had to stay clear-headed.
“Bellamy.” He had promised himself he wouldn’t ever make her worry. She’d taken a leap by doing this with him and he couldn’t stand the thought of making her grip that dress any harder.
She took the jersey from him, holding it close to her as she reached up to hug him. “You got this, Coy Jones,” she whispered.
