Rebounding (18 page)

I turn around, clenching my palms into fists. “You can’t pay for my drinks—”

“Let it go, kid,” Max cuts me off. “You’re trying to save money, remember?”

“Put me on my own tab,” I order the startled bartender.

“Don’t listen to her,” Max warns him.

The bartender throws his hands up and backs away, hurrying off to the other end of the bar to help another customer. Of course he would listen to Max over me, since he’s on the receiving end of a menacing death stare.

“You’re an ass,” I snap once he’s gone.

“I believe the response you’re looking for is thank you.”

“Yes, you’re right.
Thank you
for being so controlling. And
thank you
for butting into my love life and scaring Briggs off. When I say you shouldn’t have, please know I really mean it.”

Max chuckles, lifting his beer to his lips. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Do you even know the meaning of a double standard?”

“Of course I do. It’s where I get my way, and you don’t.”

I groan out loud, which makes him laugh even harder.

“Don’t take it so hard, kid. You were too good for him anyway,” he says, completely at ease. He thinks his actions are justifiable.

“Here’s the thing—I get to decide that. If you think I’m too good for you, I can’t force you to see things differently. But just because you don’t want anything to do with me doesn’t mean you get to make all my decisions when it comes to men.”

He no longer looks amused. “You think I don’t want anything to do with you?”

“That’s been made very clear.”

His voice lowers significantly. “I told you it was a bad idea, not that I don’t want you.”

“Whatever. Same thing in my book.”

He levels his magnetic gaze on me, holding my attention. “I’m going to tell you something I probably shouldn’t.”

I start to say something biting like
why bother
, then stop myself, seeing how serious he looks. He leans down, his mouth by my ear so I’m the only one who can hear him. “If things were different, I’d take you home, put you in my bed, and make love to you until you saw stars.” His voice is slow and deep and mesmerizing. “I’d make you cry out my name until it was the only one you could remember. I’d bury myself in you, making the pleasure so fucking delicious that it would ruin you for every man for the rest of your life. I’d leave you so numb, so spent, and so satiated that you wouldn’t be able to move for a week. That’s what I
want
to do to you, Charlotte, which is not the same as saying it’s a bad idea.”

He moves away, watching my reaction. I can’t breathe. All I can do is stare at him, eyes wide.

“That’s what you want?” I gasp.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I’ll act on it.”

“Why not?” I ask, confused. “I’m here, telling you I want the same things. Why can’t that be enough?”

“Because I would just take what I want from you and run,” he says darkly. “After what you did for me, you deserve better than that. You deserve love and romance, and I’m way too fucked up to ever give you those things.”

He looks away, staring out into the blur of the crowd.

This is because of his past. That’s what this is about—what it’s always been about.

I lay my hand over his free one, linking my fingers through his. “Everyone has demons,” I say, my voice softening. “Some people allow their demons to rule them, and that’s when they forget how to live. This is what it’s about. Living. Breathing. Touching. Tasting. Absorbing every last messy piece of life. I never asked for love and romance. All I asked for was you.”

Even as I say it, I’m not sure the weight of my words will make a difference. It’s like he’s trying to fulfill his own expectations of himself, and I’m just getting in the way.

“I guess sometimes we don’t get the things we want in life.” With that said, he pulls his hand out of mine, turns away, and ends the conversation.

My chest constricts.

This actually hurts.

Knowing how much he wants me physically
hurts
. It feels like we’re both dying of thirst, and he’s the one refusing us water. He should’ve never told me how he felt. I’d rather have been left in the dark, blissfully ignorant.

There’s a guy at the table across from me that keeps looking my way. The next time he does, I call him out. “You. What’s your name?”

Max overhears me, and sighs. “Charlotte, don’t.”

“Javier,” the guy answers, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe.

“Wanna buy me a drink, Javier?”

“For you,
mamí
?” he says in a thick, Spanish accent. “Of course.”

Max’s jaw tightens. “You already have a fucking drink,” he growls.

Ignoring him, I make my way over to Javier’s table, sliding onto the barstool next to him. I refuse to look back at Max or respond to him at all. I hear him behind me, muttering curses, but I pretend he’s not there.

“I’m Charlotte,” I say, holding my hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Javier shakes my hand very slowly, lightly running his fingers over my knuckles, smiling at me like he’s just won the lottery. That’s as far as it goes. His hand is snatched from mine, Max stepping in between us. In one swift motion, he lifts me out of the chair, sets me down, and says, “We’re leaving.”

“Maybe you are, but I’m not.”

“If I have to carry you over my shoulder—”

“Hey, you guys!” Stephanie cuts him off. She circles a hand over her mouth, but doesn’t lower her voice. “Got some bad news…I think I may have lost my keys.”

“You didn’t lose your keys,” Max tells her, sounding more and more aggravated by the second. “I have them.”

She stumbles as she walks. “Why do you have them—whoa!”

Her heel catches on the floor, sending her to her knees. Max quickly releases my arm to reach for Stephanie, then helps her back up. She laughs, but continues to sway as she stands.

Javier turns to me. “Did you still want that drink?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Max snarls out, glaring at Javier until he swivels back around. If he weren’t busy trying to keep Stephanie on her feet, I think Max would’ve hit him.

“Sounds like you two are in the middle of something,” Stephanie says, her eyes glassy. “Just give me my keys, Max, and I’ll leave you alone.”

He snorts at her. “Over my dead body. You’re not driving.”

“I’m perfectly,” he pauses to hiccup, “…fine to drive.”

Max gives me a pleading look. “Please help me with this.”

I don’t have to think about it. I grab Stephanie by her other arm. “We’re just going to walk you to you’re car, okay?”

“Fine, but I’m driving myself.”

Over the top of her head, I signal a wink at Max, and he nods back at me. As soon as we’re outside, Max hails a cab, and he deposits Stephanie inside. She screeches, but can’t move fast enough to stop him.

“Get in,” Max motions me in next.

“What if I don’t want to?” I ask defiantly, still pissed off over how controlling he’s acting.

He starts to say something, then changes his mind and reaches for my arm. “Don’t bother,” I say, holding him off. “It’s not like I want to stay anyway. You’ve ruined the night for me.”

I get in, then slam the door.

Stephanie immediately yells at me. “I can,”
hiccup
, “drive!”

Ignoring her, I list off the address to the cab driver, surprised when Max gets in the front seat. I didn’t think he’d be leaving with us. “We’ve all been drinking,” he says. “None of us should be driving.”

Stephanie crosses her arms over her chest, pouting. “Why’d you even come tonight, Max? You’re such a downer.”

“Didn’t you invite him?” I ask Stephanie.

“Yeah right. Like I wanted my every move reported back to,”
hiccup
, “Trevor.”

Max’s eyes meet mine for a split second before he turns away. So then he lied about it all, about thinking I wasn’t really here on a date, about not being jealous. I turn to stare out the window.

The cab ride back to his house is quiet, almost torturously quiet. Stephanie passes out the moment the car gears into drive, and Max and I don’t speak. Leftover tension engulfs the tiny cab, and it’s suffocating.

Tears sting at my eyes. I blink rapidly, keeping my gaze fixed on the window. It’s just the alcohol. Tomorrow everything will go back to normal, and I’ll continue on with making the fresh start I came here to get. Falling in love again isn’t part of the plan. I came here to heal, to fall in love with myself, to make a place for myself in the world. That’s what I should be focusing on.

Everything will be fine.

I will be fine.

But if that’s true, then why does it hurt so damn much?

TWENTY-FIVE

Max

I never feel guilty for anything; I never apologize for anything. All she has to do is look at me with disappointment, and it feels like a blow to the gut. Like the way she did when we first got into the cab, the way her eyes twisted around me painfully. I still can’t get that look out of my mind.

Everything was so simple before she came here; my life was on a direct path, the way I needed it to be. And now I feel guilty, all because she accused me of ruining her night. If anybody else told me that, I’d laugh in their face. After all the shitty nights I’ve been through, ruining someone else’s would be the last thing I cared about.

Not that I feel bad about telling Briggs to back off. Charlotte can be mad all she wants about that—it was a disaster waiting to happen. When I first walked into the bar and saw how fucking beautiful she looked, I felt myself go hard right then and there. I fought the urge to carry her out of there like a damned caveman, staking my claim. She was right on the mark when she asked if I was jealous, because I didn’t just want to keep Briggs away, I wanted to keep every guy in there away.

She has every right to be pissed. The way I’m acting doesn’t even make sense to me. I keep telling myself this is about who she is and my need to repay her for saving my life, but I don’t know if that’s true anymore.

Now she won’t even speak. She’s always talking, always has something on her mind, but she refuses to say a word. She may never speak to me again. I probably crushed whatever shot we had at being friends. This thing with her has gone too horribly fucking deep, and at this point, I’m not sure I can dig myself out.

When the cab pulls up to the house, the front porch light turns on. I get out of the car, noticing Trevor peeking through the blinds. When he sees me lift Stephanie from the backseat, he races outside.

“She’s fine,” I assure him.

His worry in his face eases, and he takes her from me, carrying her inside.

As I’m paying the cab driver, Charlotte walks straight past me. I think about stopping her, but I don’t know what to say. I figure I’ll wait until tomorrow. Maybe she needs time to cool down first. Sleep it off.

That all changes when I pass by her bedroom door. I stop short, noticing the opened suitcase lying on her bed. Charlotte is hurrying around the room, collecting clothes and other personal items.

I walk inside, not caring whether she wants me there or not. “You’re not leaving.”

She kicks her heels off, throwing those inside the suitcase next. “So you’re going to dictate my entire life now?”

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Well I can’t stay here anymore,” she says, sliding her closet door open. She reaches inside, grabbing a handful of clothes.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Maybe.” She drops the clothes into her suitcase without bothering to fold them. “But I don’t really care. I need to get out of this house.”

I grab her wrists before she can pack anything else, forcing her to look at me. “You’re not fucking leaving, okay? It’s just one argument. We’ll both be over it by tomorrow.”

“Maybe you will, but I can’t do this. I can’t be around you.”

I notice the way her mascara is smeared at the edges of her eyes, and let go of her wrists. “Because I stopped you from making one stupid decision?”

“That’s what you think this is about?” She laughs without humor. “This isn’t about Briggs, Max. Or that guy at the bar.”

Taking a leaf from Trevor’s book, I try using his guilt tactics. “I gave you a home, my friendship, a job—so if it’s not about Briggs, then what could possibly make you mad enough to run?”

“You know how much I appreciate that, but I’m not
mad
. I mean, I was earlier, but that’s not why I’m leaving.” She shakes her head, looking helpless, then slowly drops to the foot of her bed. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?”

“I have feelings for you…it’s possible I’m falling in love with you.”

My whole body stills.

It takes me a few seconds to fully grasp what she said.

But I still don’t believe it.

“I lied to you.” She sighs. “About looking for a rebound. I don’t want Briggs. I never did. Tonight I’d hoped…well it doesn’t matter. The point is, being around you is becoming a problem. I think it’s best for me to leave now before I get hurt. Because I don’t think I can go through that kind of pain again.”

She expects me to say something. I don’t know what the fuck to say. I can’t process it.

After a moment, she says, “You should know I didn’t expect to feel this way when I came here. This was the last thing I ever expected.”

She continues to watch me, waiting for me to respond. “Breathe, Max.”

Breathing. Right. The thing people do to survive. I take a deep breath, raking shaky hands through my hair.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Sitting down next to her on the bed, I say the first thing I can think of. “Where will you go?”

“Probably to my brother’s condo for now, until I can think of a new plan. It’s like a mad house over there, so I won’t stay long.”

“Why do you call it that? Does he live with a lot of people?”

She nods. “He’s a flight attendant, and his home is sort of like a crash pad. There’s a constant flow of people coming and going.”

I don’t want Charlotte living in that. I need to know she’s somewhere safe, where she has her own bed to sleep in, and where she’s around people she can trust.

“I’ll buy you your own condo,” I tell her. “It’s the least I can do.”

“I told you I’d never take your money.”

“Dammit, kid. I have too much of it. Let me give it to you because I
want
to.”

She infuriates me by smiling. “No.”

Of course, she would make this hard. It’s never easy with her.

“Then think of it as an advance. You’re working for me now. You can pay me back whenever you’re able.”

“No, thanks,” she says again.

“You’re being too stubborn,” I say brusquely. “You can’t afford principles right now, and besides, this is partly my fault.”

A sputter of laughter escapes her. “Where in the world would you get that idea?”

I don’t tell her how I knew from the moment I saw her I should stay away from her, but I chose not to anyway. “I led you on,” I say instead. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be leaving.”

She rolls her eyes. “Nice try, but you’re not taking the blame for this.”

“Look, you don’t have to decide anything tonight,” I insist.

“I know.” She stands up, then walks around the bed to her suitcase. “But I want to be gone by morning.”

“Why the hurry?”

“I already told you. I can’t be around you.”

“I’ll become a fucking ghost. You’ll never see me.”

She calmly shakes her head. “It’s not enough. You’re everywhere in this house, on the beach,” she pauses to laugh, “even the bathroom.”

I close her suitcase, pushing it away from her. “Tell me what to do. I won’t be able to sleep at night wondering whether you’re okay.”

“I’ll be fine, Max. I’ll figure something out.”

“That’s not acceptable.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got,” she snaps, sounding impatient. “May I please have my suitcase back?”

Beads of sweat film along my forehead. My pulse picks up, driving hard and fast. There’s nothing I can do to convince her to act reasonably. As much as I know she needs to leave, I’m not going to let her. I didn’t think it would ever come to this, but I’m powerless to stop it.

I take her face between my hands, crushing my mouth against hers. Her lips are soft and warm, and in that moment, I know I’ve lost. I give up. Completely defeated.

I pull back, and we’re both breathless. Her rapt gaze searches mine, confused and waiting for an explanation. I keep my voice low and steady. “Here’s what’s going to happen. First I’m going to make love to you. After that, we’re burning your suitcase.”

Charlotte licks her lips and takes a shaky breath. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you are. I should probably warn you about what you’re getting yourself into though. There are things about me you probably wouldn’t like—”

She cuts me off by placing her hand over my mouth. “I don’t care about any of that.”

The way she says that stirs something inside of me.

“Will you really run?” she asks. “The moment you get what you want from me?”

I imagine it would take lifetimes to get all I want from her. “You’re the one who will want to run, Charlotte. Once you see me for who I am. Let that be on your shoulders.”

“You’re wrong,” she says without hesitation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I shut her bedroom door, turning the lock. “Good. Because now that I know you’re staying, I don’t want to waste another moment.”

Keeping her might be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but now that I’ve accepted it, I plan to enjoy it. Taking it back is no longer an option. I’m done with peeking over the edge of my cliff. I’ve jumped. It’s too late to question whether or not this is a mistake.

I think I’m going to enjoy being selfish.