Chapter Twenty-Seven

Concerned, I tap my fingers on the bar and stare out the window at Charlee. She’s acting weird, and not her normal-self weird, but concerning weird.

During the ceremony, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her and her gorgeous dress. I kept thinking how we were going to be in the same position as Bram and Julia soon, walking down the aisle toward each other, and even though it started off as a fake engagement, it’s never felt more real.

Without a doubt, Charlee is the one I want. She’s the girl I want in my bed every night. She’s the one I want to give my heart to. She’s the girl I can see a forever with.

And not because we have the best sex I’ve ever had, that would be entirely shallow of me. That’s just the icing on top of the delicious Charlee cake. The reason I like her? She pushes me out of my comfort zone. She makes me think about being a better man and pushes me to be one. She’s so fucking smart. Her smile is contagious, and she lights up the room when I’m in a bad mood. Most importantly, I meant what I said to her, she makes me happy. So fucking happy.

Linus walks over to her and I watch her greet him, giving him a light hug. Jesus, how long does it take for a bartender to get a water?

“Here you go, mate,” the guy says. Just because I’m not a dick, I stick a few bucks in the tip jar and then head toward the door. I’m really hoping whatever is going on with Charlee isn’t anything too serious, because I have plans for her.

“Birthday boy,” Bram calls out from across the room, pointing at me.

That’s gotten old pretty quick. I’m at an age now where I really don’t care about my birthday. It’s just another day at this point—although, Charlee’s birthday treatment is something to look forward to every year. We didn’t even come close to twenty blow jobs like she said, only two, but I did get to have her three times, and that right there is a goddamn present.

Bram gave me a present when I met up with him at his apartment. A Kindle, so I don’t have to read my “special” books as he put it in public with that book cover Charlee gave me. And then he stocked the Kindle with some of my favorite authors. And do you know why he knows them? Because he’s reading the books too and we compare who we like the best.

It was a pretty good present. Roark gave me a slap on the back and then slid some tickets in my pocket to go see the Bobbies in the playoffs. Several of his clients play for the Bobbies so he has an abundance of tickets . . . that he gets for free. When I pointed that out to him, he said the private jet he was flying me in wasn’t free.

Out of those gifts, I still like Charlee’s best. The picture that encompasses her soul in one shot and it’s hard not to stare at. I kept going back to it all morning.

“Oh, that’s right, it’s your birthday,” a familiar voice says, coming up next to me. I look to the side to see Vanessa with a glass of champagne in hand and a smile on her face.

This is the moment I was dreading, actually talking to her. I didn’t see her at the ceremony, so I was hoping she didn’t show up, but she apparently did. Then again, I was so distracted by Charlee the whole time that I really wasn’t looking for an ex-girlfriend.

“Hey there,” I say kindly as she reaches around me and pulls me in close. My hand falls to her back, not really wanting to give her a hug, not really caring to be part of this conversation at all. I was afraid she’d come up to me, because that’s who she is, but now that we’re interacting, what’s incredibly interesting is that I feel absolutely nothing.

Nothing.

It’s as if she’s now a regular person I used to know. Not the first and only girl to tear out my heart. To even think of her that way almost makes me laugh at this point, because apparently, I didn’t know what heartache was back then.

Now if Charlee up and left me, then there would be a problem. Like when she took her ring off and gave it to me, that was a new kind of pain I’d never felt before, as if my heart was actually cracking in half.

“Happy birthday, Rath.”

“Thanks, Vanessa,” I say kindly. “How are you?”

“Good. Engaged, but I guess so are you, huh?”

Shit, how does she know that? I haven’t told many people, especially people at Bram’s wedding because frankly, we didn’t want to have to invite a bunch of random people.

“Oh yeah, uh, how did—?”

“I met her. Charlee, right? I overheard her talking about your engagement. She seems really sweet. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” I say stiffly, which causes Vanessa to laugh and lean in, her hand falling to my arm.

“Come on, Rath. I think we should be past the awkward phase. We both made mistakes. We both moved on. Water under the bridge at this point, right?”

“I guess so, yeah.” I lean in closer and say, “Wasn’t expecting this conversation to be so smooth.”

She chuckles and says, “We had a good time, but when I look back at our relationship, I know we weren’t really meant to be with each other.”

“Yeah, I had the same thought.” Shifting, I say, “I should say I’m sorry though. I should have treated you better.”

“And I should have communicated with you more. But sometimes, that’s what past relationships are for, to give you the tools you need so when you do find the right person, you’re ready to give them all of you, and that’s what we’ve done. We’ve found our soul mates and we’ve given them all of us.”

Vanessa’s words ring true and I glance toward the bench where I left Charlee, but when I don’t see her, a small kernel of panic surfaces.

Hand still on her back, I say, “Not to be rude, but this water is for Charlee. She was feeling a little under the weather. Do you mind if I go give it to her?”

“Oh, please do. I don’t want to hold you up. It was good seeing you.”

“You too.” We give each other another hug and a weight lifts off my shoulders as I go outside, down the steps and look around, but I don’t see Charlee anywhere.

I do see someone else though. And he’s retreating.

“Linus,” I call out. He stops, and I watch his shoulders tense as he turns around.

“Mr. Westin.” He plasters on a fake smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

I don’t have time for pleasantries or time to decipher why he’s being weird. “You were talking to Charlee, where did she go?”

He looks to the side and I know right there, he’s about to tell me a lie. “You know, she was—”

“Don’t lie to me, Linus, where did she go?” I say sternly.

He slouches and rubs his hand against his forehead. “This is a tough position for me because she’s my friend, but you’re my boss’s best friend.”

“You’ve known me longer. Spill.”

He swears under his breath and says, “She wasn’t feeling well and went home.”

“Are you lying?”

“That’s what she told me.”

I thrust the water at him and pull my phone out of my suit pocket. I dial her number and hold the phone up to my ear. It rings and rings and rings. When her voicemail comes on, her sweet voice floating through my ear, I say, “Hey babe, just checking on you. Linus said you weren’t feeling well. Give me a call to let me know you’re okay.”

I hang up and send her a text as well.

Rath: Babe, you okay? Linus said you’re not feeling well. Please call me so I can make sure you’re okay.

Keeping my phone clasped in the palm of my hand, I look back up at a terrified Linus and ask, “Is that all she said?”

“I uh, I have to go to the bathroom.”

My eyes narrow. “Linus, what are you not telling me?”

“I said what I needed to say. I respect you, Mr. Westin, but I also know that whatever is happening between you and Charlee needs to stay between you two. I will not be the middleman.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks away.

Well, that’s not fucking reassuring. Apparently, there’s something happening between us and I have no goddamn clue what it is.

I shoot her another text.

Rath: Linus said there’s something going on between us? Charlee, please talk to me.

I take the stairs to the venue two at a time and scan the room for Sutton. I know they were hanging out at some point. When I spot Roark, a tumbler in his hand, I scan around him and spot Sutton and make a beeline for her.

She’s speaking with some executive from Bram’s office, and I have no problem butting in. “Excuse me, Sutton, could I have a word?”

The executive is thankfully understanding as I pull Sutton to the side by the arm—gently of course—but maybe not gently enough, because before I can let go, Roark is at her side, removing my hand.

“Don’t fucking handle my girl like that.”

Sutton places her hand on his chest, soothing the angry Irishman instantly. “He wasn’t hurting me, just guiding me. Settle down.”

With a strong arm, he brings Sutton close into his chest and stares me down.

“Jesus Christ, Roark, I’m not going to hurt your girl.”

“Damn right you’re not.”

Irritation on high alert, I turn to Sutton and say, “Did you talk with Charlee about anything?”

She nibbles on her bottom lip and whispers, “Vanessa came up to us when we were talking.”

I drag my hand down my face. “What did she say?”

“Well, she was very kind. But she did mention how funny it is that she and you are both engaged now. Charlee didn’t seem to take that well. I don’t know. I don’t know her that well, but I’d say her wheels were spinning, and it didn’t look good. She went to get some air and that’s where I left her. Why? Can you not find her?”

“No, she went home.”

“Seriously?” Roark asks, scanning the room as if I’ve missed her.

“Yes. She told Linus to tell me she wasn’t feeling well, but she’s not answering my texts or calls and when I pressured him for information, he said whatever is happening between us needs to stay that way. That he won’t be in the middle, which means she’s upset and I have a good feeling it has to do with Vanessa.”

“Shit,” Roark says, holding his drink out to me. “Need a sip?”

I shake my head. “No, dude. I need . . . fuck, I can’t leave. This is my sister and best friend’s wedding.”

“Yeah, Bram would cry an ugly death if you left early and you don’t want him to have tears on his wedding day, do you?”

I shake my head. “And I don’t want him to think anything is wrong either.”

“Which means you need to put on a happy face.”

I pull my phone out again and send another text.

Rath: Charlee, I need to talk to you, please.

Just as I send the text, Bram’s booming voice comes over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, not only is it our wedding day, but it’s the first love of my life’s birthday today. Rath Westin, will you please come up here so we can sing happy birthday to you?”

Roark snorts next to me. “Ah, lad, you’ve just been sucked into living hell. Enjoy.”

He pats me on the back and sends me forward while Bram starts a “birthday boy” chant.

Roark is right, this is my living hell, because the last thing I want is all attention on me, especially when with every breath I take, my stomach falls closer and closer to the floor with dread.

She left.

She’s not answering my texts.

She met Vanessa.

But Vanessa was happy for me, so it can’t be about her. Can it?

God, I wish I understood women.

After the birthday celebration, I send her another text.

Rath: Please at least let me know you got home okay.

During dinner I send her a text.

Rath: Babe, are you there? Did you make it home? We’re eating dinner now, give me another hour or so.

After dinner, I send her a text.

Rath: Dinner is over. Bram wants me to dance with him. I’m dying here, please tell me you’re okay.

While on the dance floor, I send a text.

Rath: Charlee, you’re scaring me. Please text me back.

On a bathroom break, I send her a text.

Rath: Half hour tops, I’m out of here.

One more “shot” with Bram. Mine is water. I send her a text.

Rath: Ten minutes. Are you at your place?

After I say my goodbyes and send the newlyweds on their way, I hop in my car and text her one last time.

Rath: In the car. I’m coming for you, babe. See you soon.

Isprint to her door and knock on it harshly, the rap of my knuckles beating against the wood. I hope I don’t wake her grandma. I know she goes to bed early, but I’m desperate at this point. I shuffle back and forth, waiting for her to answer, but when she doesn’t, I start knocking a little louder and faster and more continuous.

“Charlee, open the damn door,” I say when she still doesn’t answer. “I know you’re in there.” I really don’t but hey, why not try everything? “I’m not opposed to breaking this thing down, so I would suggest—”

The door flings open and I watch as Charlee walks away, down the hall, leaving me there in the entryway.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I enter, shut the door, and follow her to her bedroom where she buries herself in her bed. I catch a brief glimpse of her tear-stained face right before she turns away from me and the hairs on the back of my neck lift. This is way worse than what I imagined.

I go to the bed and take a seat on the edge. When I put my hand on her side, she quickly swats me away. “Don’t touch me,” she says on a sob.

Christ . . . my bones feel like they’re in pain. I’m at a complete loss.

“Okay, I won’t touch you,” I say, taking the gentle approach. “But can we please talk? I want to know what’s going on?”

“Nothing to talk about.” She sniffs. “Your ring is on the nightstand. Take it and leave.”

I glance at the nightstand and see it sparkling back at me, a contradiction to how I’m currently feeling as anger starts to replace concern.

“What did I tell you about taking it off?”

She sits up and wipes at her eyes. “Not to take it off unless I meant it. To not treat it as a threat.”

“Exactly. So, put it back on.”

She shakes her head. “This is not a threat. This is not a game to me, Rath. I want you to take that ring and leave.”

Trying not to lash out with words, I stay somewhat calm and say, “I’m going to need a reason.”

She folds her arm over her chest and says, “Your offer to marry me, why did you do it?”

Pushing my hand through my hair, I say, “For your grandma.”

“Bullshit,” she yells. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“What are you talking about?”

She swipes at her face, tears falling in rapid succession. “You said the benefit was for you to take a fiancée to events, to help with the business, but that was a lie, wasn’t it?” She tilts her head to the side. “It was because of Vanessa. Because you wanted to be on a level playing field with her when you saw her again.”

“Charlee, that’s . . .” Fuck, I mean, when the idea came about, that was a positive, and maybe a driving force initially, but I honestly forgot about it after I started getting caught up in Charlee.

Her eyes well up as she scoots away from me. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

Exhaling, I say, “It started as a bonus for both of us—”

She reaches to the nightstand, takes the ring, and places it in my hand. Then she points at the door. “Leave, now.”

“We need to talk about this. Don’t push me away because of a speed bump.”

“This isn’t a fucking speed bump, Rath. This is distrust. This is you using me. This is you treating me like a pawn in your life rather than a person. It was obvious in how you held on to Vanessa so tightly at the wedding, how you stared at her during the entire ceremony, how you had me all glammed up—for what? To make her jealous?” She looks me up and down. “You’re disgusting.”

I clamp my hand around the ring and ask, “What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t staring at her, I was staring at you. I didn’t even know where she was sitting.”

“Oh, please,” she says on a sob. “She was sitting right in front of me. And I saw how you were holding her, talking to her, laughing with her, as if I didn’t exist. Well guess what? You saved face with your ex, so my duty is done. I held up my end of the bargain.”

“And what about my end?” I ask, feeling anger take over any rational thought. How could she possibly think any of that is true? Vanessa was sitting in front of Charlee the whole time? Bullshit. All I saw was my girl staring back at me.

“No need to worry. Apparently everyone in my life decided to lie to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“My grandma isn’t sick. Found that out tonight too. She planned the whole thing because she thought we had something special. Looks like her instincts were just as wrong as her actions.” What the fuck?

“She faked it?” Why? Her granddaughter has been in agony thinking she didn’t have much time with her grandma.

“Yup, just like our engagement. Don’t worry, Rath. You’re not indebted to me. You don’t have to marry me, you can drop the act, and move on.”

“I don’t want to fucking move on.” I pull on her arm so she’s forced to look at me. “I want you, Charlee. I want to work through this, talk about it.”

She scoffs. “Oh, okay. Now you want to ‘talk’?” She uses air quotes. “A little late, Rath. If you wanted to talk, you should have talked a while ago, but I guess that was never in your plans, was it? You only saw me as a way to get back at your ex. You kept things casual, shallow, never diving too deep, because why open up to someone you actually had no intention on staying with? For fuck’s sake, Rath. Your parents were at that wedding today, and not once did you take me to meet them. Not once. Imagine how horrible I would have felt if they heard from someone else that their son was engaged. But you kept us apart. Kept me a secret. Led me on, kept me happy leading up to this day, used me, and then got what you wanted.” She slowly claps. “Job well done.”

“That’s not how it was,” I say through clenched teeth.

She rolls her eyes and lays her head back down on the pillow. “Just leave, Rath. This is over.”

“So that’s it, you’re just going to call the shots without even hearing me out?”

“That’s what you’ve been doing this entire time, calling the shots. It’s about time I made some choices that better my life, which means walking away from you.”

It’s a goddamn dagger straight to my heart.

Walking away from you. Those four words echo in my head as I stare down at her. Almost lifeless, there’s no color in her face, no silliness in her smile, no sparkle in her eyes. It’s as if someone turned down the switch and made her dull.

It hurts. It hurts to see her like this, so defeated, but what hurts even more is the knowledge that I don’t think there’s any way I can fix this. She’s made up her mind, especially from the finality in her voice.

The realization that this very well might be over starts to clog my throat as I say, “Charlee, just hear me out.”

“No,” she answers. “I’ve heard all I needed. Go. Take your ring and go.”

I bite on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Resigned to the fact that I won’t be changing her mind, I stand and pocket the ring. Staying close to the bed, I say, “For the record, Charlee, you are more to me than a pawn. You are more to me than a fake fiancée. You are way more to me than a friend. You’re . . . fuck.” I get choked up and when she turns even farther away, my heart cracks. “You’re my girl.”

“No. I’m not,” she says, her mouth muffled by the pillow she’s grasping. “Now leave. Don’t make me say it again.”

I want to tell her more. I want to tell her everything she’s said is wrong, that I care about her that I . . . love her. But I think anything I say would fall on deaf ears at this point. So instead of sticking around where I can only make her madder at me, I do the one thing she’s been asking me to do since I got here.

I leave.