“Don’t. You deserve this,” he reiterates. “The whole package. And maybe one day, I’ll figure out what I really want too.”
“You sure? Even after everything I’ve done to you?”
“It wasn’t just you, man. I needed to learn how to take responsibility for my actions too.”
Slipping my hands into my front pockets, I let out a dry laugh. “Trust me. I know how that feels. So…are we good?”
“Yeah. We’re good. I’m happy for you guys.”
“Thanks, man. That means a lot to me. Especially after everything you did for me, it just…,” I clear my throat. “It means a lot.”
“Stop thinking I gave you a handout, Levi. You earned this shit.”
I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel like I earned anything, no matter how many hours I put into landing the final position or how many hours I spend groveling at Charlie’s feet. Regardless, I appreciate Conner’s compliment and wish I could repay him somehow.
“Would you wanna go grab drinks or something before you head back?” I ask.
“Nah. I got a lot of shit to do. But maybe we can get together the next time I’m in the city.”
I nod before grabbing my keys and setting them on top of his dresser. “If the landlord has any issues with his inspection, let me know.”
“I will.”
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I won’t. Tell Charlie hi for me.”
There isn’t any underlying meaning in his comment, and I appreciate the olive branch.
“I will. See ya around.”
“You too.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Charlie
“Dude. I’m nervous,” I admit as Levi and I zoom beneath the surface of New York on the subway.
“Why the hell are you nervous?” he asks, clearly amused.
“Because….” I wring my hands in my lap. “Because she’s gonna know.”
A laugh bursts out of him before he pulls me into his side. “My mom is gonna know what, Charlie?”
“That we’re…”––Kill me now––“dating.”
“You mean that we’re shagging, fornicating, bumping uglies.” He bounces his eyebrows up and down then adds, “That we’re having…relations?”
Shoving him in his chest, I sit back up and give him my best glare before it turns into a fit of giggles.
“Bumping uglies? I think that’s the most disgusting term I’ve ever heard.”
“Trust me. I’ve heard worse,” he jokes. “Seriously, though. You know my mom better than anyone. Hell, I’m pretty sure you know her better than I do, and she already knows we’re seeing each other.”
“She knows, but she doesn’t know-know, ya know?” I ramble, my cheeks heating all over again.
“She knows that I’m the luckiest guy on the planet. If anything, I’m the one who should be worried. I have to tell your dad we’re moving in together.” Gulping at the prospect, his eyes go wide. “Wait, he doesn’t own a shotgun or anything, right?”