The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

I’m not sure who was more surprised—him or me. He bolted out the back door, saying he was going for a run. I waited there for over three hours, and he never came back. I think that’s when I realized I was waiting for nothing.

“But you still haven’t moved on.”

“I want to.” I stare into the white ceiling of the hotel room, searching for answers. “I don’t enjoy being lonely. Most of the time, it doesn’t matter. I have such good friends. You, Lainey, Nick. There’s always someone who will go out with me. And if I really want someone to get physical with, there are lots of available men. But I’ve felt tethered to Nate since forever, and it’s more than having lost a boyfriend or a lover. It’s losing my best friend.”

Reese sighs. “I don’t believe that three one night stands are going to do it for you.”

“I need more?”

“I think you need to sleep with someone you care about. Maybe Nick?”

“I couldn’t sleep with Nick!” I shudder. “It would be sleeping with my brother. Which is gross.”

“I don’t get how sleeping with Nick, who is not related to you, is incest, but sleeping with Nate, who is Nick’s brother, is not.”

“You don’t have to understand. It just is.”

He knocks his fist against the top of my head. “You need someone like me, but who’s straight. Who loves you and would be invested in making it good for you. Plus if you like him, you’ll feel less like cheating and more like . . . a friendly get together without clothes on.”

“I . . . I actually know someone like that.”

“Who?” Reese thought he knew all my friends, but my relationship with Colin Matthews is quiet. We like it that way because it’s pressure-free for him. But he’d sleep with me. He’d made advances before, and I’ve always turned him down—not because of Nathan, but because I want Colin to have someone who loves him with her whole heart, not just a portion of it.

Could we sleep together without ruining our friendship?

“Just a guy. It’s someone I met when I was in treatment in Switzerland.”

“The LA guy?” Reese says knowingly.

“Yes him,” I admit. If there’s a job in LA, I always take it. Colin and I knock around privately. If you don’t want to be photographed and aren’t really into the scene, it’s easy enough to get around anonymously. Colin would always roll his eyes at the fake outrage by some celebrities when they are photographed eating at the “motherfucking Grove.”

Reese’s eyes are glowing with curiosity, but before he can interrogate me, his phone rings and then mine.

“Charlotte Randolph here.”

“It’s Lainey. Why did we decide to buy a bar? Why?”

“Because it seemed like a fun investment at the time?”

“I’m tearing my hair out. We lost another server because she started sleeping with one of the Mustangs and after he stopped calling, she couldn’t be here when he flaunted his single status. Her words; not mine. Our policy of no sleeping with the customers needs to be better enforced.”

“Should we require them to take oaths of chastity before allowing them to don the apron?” I joke.

“We should have opened a trendy bar somewhere other than here, a place where we serve drinks with umbrellas.”

“Then order umbrellas, and we’ll see if we can drive the Mustangs away.”

“And Nick will start wearing them behind his ear, and we’ll have to put up a velvet rope to keep everyone out,” she grumbled. Lainey and Nick are like oil and water. She says he plays too hard, and he says her inability to smile more than once a week is scarring his young adulthood. Reese and I speculate that it is a sexual attraction, but a lot of the time it does appear that they don’t like each other. Lainey, in particular, doesn’t seem to respect Nick. And Nick, God love him, doesn’t appreciate all that Lainey has gone through.

And if there isn’t any respect between two people, any kind of sexual attraction will leave them both unhappy. I don’t want that for either of my friends.

“Because she quit, I need to stay here and tend the bar, but Nick came in this morning to tell me that there’s a rookie who needs help transitioning. He signed his rookie contract, and he’s got a boatload of family obligations. I can’t really deal with it all, so Reese needs to come home. I gave the rookie Reese’s number.”

I glance over at Reese, who is throwing things into his case, with his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear.

“I think they’re talking right now.”

“Great, and I’m sorry for taking him away from you.”

“No problem. I’m going to get things wrapped up with Christian soon. Maybe a week.”

“I made a reservation for you at Tower23 if you’re tired of the Del,” she suggests.