Charlotte
Waking up, I find myself alone. I stretch and smile slightly. The stiffness in my muscles is welcome. It reminds me that what happened last night is real. I climb out of bed and realize I have no clothes, so I grab a robe and head toward the living room.
In the hall, I hear voices and come to a stop. I peer around the corner and see his ex, Serena, standing there with coffee. Her hair is like a waterfall over her shoulder, and her dress is slipping off her shoulder just enough to tempt. She knows exactly how to seduce a man.
Jack shakes his head. “No. You need to go.”
“Don’t be like that, Jack.” She pouts. “I’m being serious.”
“I don’t care.”
“Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Her words chill me. I know Jack loved her. He was engaged to her; she broke his heart. I wouldn’t be the first girl left for an ex. I swallow the lump in my throat and fight the urge to run. Running will put me right in the middle of their conversation—in a robe.
I close my eyes and exhale as Serena continues.
“I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you. I was wrong. You’re stable and warm and so dependable. Can you forgive my past insanity?”
“You’re forgiven.” His answer is simple. “But that’s all. Leave.”
“You don’t even want the coffee?”
“No.”
“Jack, please.” Her voice actually cracks. “I’ll leave Max to be with you. I still love you. I’ve never stopped wishing I could find you and beg you to take me back.”
I cover my mouth with my hand and bite back every instinct I have. I won’t run. I won’t jump to conclusions. I’m not going to create drama when I shouldn’t even be listening. Despite the uncomfortable buzzing in my head, I stay put.
“There was a time when I would have killed to hear that, Serena. Not anymore. You’re too late.”
“It doesn’t have to be. We can start over. I want you. Only you.”
I can’t do it. Turning away, I head back to Jack’s room. I need to get out of here. I need to clear my head and…distract myself until my emotions are under control. So, I make do with Jack’s clothes after rooting around his dresser for sweatpants and a shirt.
When I walk into the living room, Jack’s alone and making coffee in the kitchen. I tuck my hair behind my ear, ignoring the tangle that threatens my fingers. Maybe, if I’m quiet enough, I can grab my dress, put it on, and leave without him noticing.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” Jack calls.
No luck today, apparently.
“Morning,” I murmur. “I can’t stay for breakfast.”
He sets down the skillet he just got out and smiles. “You don’t trust me to cook after the cake incident?”
“I have to get some work done,” I explain, closing the distance between us.
“No rush.” His eyes aren’t as carefree, though. Like, if he stares hard enough, he can figure out what’s bothering me. “Everything okay?”
I exhale and shuffle in his sweatpants, picking up my dress. “I heard you and Serena.”
“Oh.” He blinks a few times and nods. “Then you heard me say no multiple times.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re still bothered.”
I shrug. “I just need to process and work.”
“I’m not interested in her, Charlotte. She means nothing to me. I don’t care why she’s up my ass right now, and I don’t know why she and Max are still here. But she doesn’t have a chance.”
I clutch my dress to my chest but don’t meet his eyes. What do I say to that?
“I’ll tell them to leave today, kick them off my dock and out of our life. I’m not willing to let her ruin my life a second time.” His voice is heavy.
It’s easier to duck back into his room and get dressed than to respond to that. So, that’s what I do. I take more time than necessary to get my dress together before heading to the living room again. Before I leave, Jack catches my hand and pulls me away from the front door, into his arms. He hugs me and kisses the top of my head. He’s warm—Serena was right about that.
Rather than resist, I savor his affection, rubbing his back and pressing my forehead to his chest. What’s one more minute?
“You know you’re the only one I’m interested in, right?”
“I hope so,” I murmur softly, unwilling to believe him at the moment, despite everything we shared yesterday.
“You might drive me up the wall and challenge me constantly, but I’ve never had this kind of chemistry with anyone. I’m not going to let you go.”
I lift my head and feel him kiss my forehead. I force the words out, hoping they’re not a waste. “I like the person I am with you. I like you, even when you’re being a dick.”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead again. “Will you let me know when you’re done with work? I’d like to take you out on a real date.”
“Last night wasn’t a date?”
“I think we skipped that part.” He grins that same heart-melting grin. “I’m old-fashioned, even if backward. I’m going to take you out properly and give you some edible food.”
I giggle and nod. “Alright. I’ll message you when I’m all set and let you take me out. I’m expecting the most romantic night of my life.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He lifts my chin and gives me a chaste kiss. “Have a good day, baby.”
“You too.”
As I walk to my apartment, I chew my lip. I have so much to unpack mentally. Not only did Jack—the once asshole—bake me a cake for my birthday, I talked to him about my mom, slept with him, woke up to him and his ex arguing, and still somehow ended up with a date.
This means I have to admit that I don’t just like him and it wasn’t just a backlog of sexual energy that made him unforgettable. It’s him. I unlock my front door and shake my head. It’s insane how much has changed in the last week, and I don’t know how to process it all.
There’s no way I can concentrate on anything when I can still smell Jack’s cologne on my clothes, spicy and musky with the slightest softness to it. Just like him. Prickly, but sweet. I shake my head and get through a shower before picking out an outfit for filming.
I end up in a simple white top and a peach-colored skirt that’s modest, but still cute. After I dig up some sunglasses, I head out of the building and toward the docks. What better place to work? Once I do a few test photos, I decide to shoot a video instead.
Despite how tempting it is to brush off negative comments constantly, I know how to at least take constructive criticism. I need to be more real and honest—with myself and with the followers and fans who have given me the life I have.
I started my birthday with a bang, no pun intended, and I plan to make the most of this year, starting with taking action rather than thinking myself into a corner. I flip the camera to face me and take a deep breath, ready with a real smile.
“I’m officially thirty!” I exclaim happily once the recording starts. “It’s crazy. I used to think that thirty was so old, but I still feel twenty-one.”
I make sure to flash a view of some of the multi-million dollar yachts, then turn to get Jack’s restaurant in the shot. I grin. “I want to thank everyone who reached out to say happy birthday. I don’t say often enough how much I appreciate you all.”
Now comes the hard part. I told myself that I’d be more vulnerable, more real. But I don’t want pity. I want others to be able to relate. I bite my lip and look out at the water. “I feel really lucky to have so many people care about me. I’m planning on making some changes in the coming weeks to show both the good days and bad days I have. I want to be more involved and more honest with you guys.”
I flip the camera around to catch the glittering water and length of the dock ahead. “Here’s to another year of growth and strength.”
I end the video and keep walking as I review it. After another two takes, I’m happy with the footage. Fighting the urge to edit it will be the hardest. So, I post the picture I took earlier, and promise more to come later.
Exhaling, I walk into the restaurant, eager for something sweet to calm the emotions churning inside of me. I try to hold back my smile from everything Jack and I did last night, then dealing with his ex this morning, and trying to make a big life change all at once.
Once inside, I notice Max. I didn’t get a thorough look at him yesterday, but I know he looked better than this. Still, I’m supposed to be Jack’s fiancée, so I’m not quite sure how to approach him.
His light-brown hair is messy, as if he just woke up, and his clothes are wrinkled. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he’d just had a long coach flight beside a screaming toddler. I chew my lip and give in, even if he isn’t Jack’s favorite person in the world right now, he doesn’t deserve to wallow or to be drinking at barely noon all by himself like this.
“Max,” I call as I approach. He looks up at me, looks me over slowly, then takes another drink as he shakes his head. I exhale and sit on the stool next to him. “You look—”
“You don’t have to say it.”
“Rough.” It comes out anyway. I shrug. “I’m assuming it has something to do with Serena knocking on Jack’s door this morning?”
“Yeah.” He grunts before downing his glass and offering it to the bartender. “More.”
The bartender glances at us, then carefully gives Max about one shot of whiskey. I steal it from Max and drink it myself before handing the glass to the bartender and crossing my legs. Max’s eyes drag over my skin, steadily burning away the alcohol in my belly as he does. It’s like each detail of me is vitally important to his survival.
I clear my throat and look away. “Friends or not, Jack wouldn’t want to kick you out of his place this early.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know how we ended.”
“And you don’t know how he thinks anymore. Maybe you should ask before drowning yourself in alcohol.” I say firmly.
“Ask Jack?” Max snorts. “He doesn’t want to talk to me. He won’t hear a word I have to say. I’m always talking to no one.”
“I hear you just fine, Max.” I put my hand on his shoulder as I pushed myself out of the chair. This conversation requires more time than I have at the moment. And it requires more than a stranger’s words. “And so will Jack. He’s dealt with Serena leaving before, so who could possibly understand better than he could?”
Max nods slowly and I watch my hand trail over his back before heading out of the restaurant. After thinking for a few seconds, I send a text to Jack. They’ll either fix things or end up brawling. Either way, it’s a show I don’t plan to miss.