Chasing Us (Dark Love 2)

“Please don’t leave me, Charlotte. Remember, you were fucking Julian. You were even going to marry him.”

My head spins back to face him. Is he fucking serious comparing my once-loving relationship with Julian to this whore who took in two dicks at a time!

“I’m not going to leave you. However, I need to be alone right now. And since you want to bring Julian up, how about I tell you about all the times he fucked me in my apartment, on my bed, on the kitchen table, on the couch, in the shower… maybe now you will understand how I feel.” I storm out of the apartment so fast not realizing BJ is trailing me.

“Charlie, wait!” he calls out.

Stopping in my tracks, I wait because I have no idea where I’m going alone in a city which holds so much of Lex’s past. “C’mon, love, let’s take you somewhere and talk.”

BJ is fast becoming my favorite person to be around, purely because he knows I’m pregnant and can’t drink. He does the next best thing—he takes me to a chocolate café. Now, the chocolate fondue fountain in the window alone is enough to make me forget for a few moments that Lex is a big-ass jerk.

We sit in a booth near the counter as the waitress reads out the menu to us. BJ tells her to give us the sample plate. My body is battling with my mind, the anger slowly subsiding, and the scent of sweet confectionaries lingering in the air.

“They make all the chocolate in that kitchen.” BJ points to the back somewhere.

“You come here often?”

“Ahh, cat’s out of the bag. Let’s just say I’m a regular, and women love chocolate when they need consoling.”

My shoulders shake as laughter finds me. It’s his go-to place to bring pathetic, depressed women, and no doubt after he fills them full of chocolate, he fills them full of sperm.

“BJ, why don’t I expect anything less from you, and I’ve only known you for like two minutes?”

“Listen, Charlie, back there—”

“He was single, he enjoyed sex, dirty sex. I get it.”

Fuck, it hurts like hell, though.

“Okay, I won’t argue that, but you gotta hear me out. I’ve never met a chap who was as miserable as Lex. You’ve changed him, Charlie, for the better. Don’t listen to Roxy, let it go, and move on. Christ, that Roxy makes Pamela Anderson look like a virgin.”

I let out a small chuckle, momentarily distracted when the sample plate of chocolate, including the mini fondue fountain, is placed before us. We sit in silence while I allow myself to get lost in chocolate heaven.

“BJ, tell me what happened… with Roxy?”

“Aww, c’mon, love, you don’t want to hear that. It’s done, and Lex ain’t gonna go back.”

I remain silent. I’m going to push him, stupid guy code what-happens-in-London-stays-in-London bullshit.

“So, tell me, have you brought Kate here?” I smirk, switching topics.

“Blimey, Kate is a tough bird. She ain’t one to break down in tears and talk a donkey’s ear off about her relationships. No, Kate and I met through Lex. He won’t let me talk about it, but basically, I shagged her a few times. Quite a gun in the sack, that one,” he chuffs.

“Kate would cut your balls off for saying that.”

We laugh together as we dig into the fountain. My God, it truly makes me forget all the shit that just went down. “Thank you, BJ, for bringing me here and allowing me to vent, but just so you know, my pants belong to your best friend, so there’s no getting in there.”

“Anytime, love, you know where to find me. And listen, send my regards to Emma.”

I raise my brows. “Emma?”

“Yeah, Viagra’s one hell of a powerful motherfucker.”

I leave the café still in shock that BJ screwed Emma. I want to text Emma, but I have even bigger things to deal with as I walk into the apartment and find Lex sitting on the couch, slumped over with a drink in his hand. His eyes are bloodshot as he turns and looks my way. We sit in silence as I try to find the right words to say. We are both hurting, and I’m not the innocent one here, either, after I shot my mouth off about Julian fucking me everywhere under the sun.

“We both have a past, but I don’t like secrets. Tell me what happened?” My voice is calm. It’s my court voice, the one I use every time the opponent is on the stand trying to get away with some ridiculous alibi.

“What’s the point, Charlotte? It’s done.” His voice is croaky. Has he been crying?