Charlotte
Ican’t believe his ex was waiting in his room and Jack tried to tell me it meant nothing. Even if it is nothing to him, I don’t want the drama. I should cut my losses right now. Then, even if it takes some time, I’ll forget his kiss. I’ll forget how eager I was to head up to his apartment and see where our chemistry could take us. But right now, I want to go back to his room and feel his arms around me again.
Noticing the ring on my finger, a sharp laugh bubbles up from my throat. I shake my head and take off the ring, I set it on the table and let myself wallow in a bit of self-pity before forcing myself through a long, hot shower. My skin is red, practically cooked by the time I get out, and I imagine that it’s enough to remove any trace of Jack’s hands on me.
What a mess. And I only have myself to blame. I knew he and I wouldn’t match up well, but I hoped. He’d won me over. Maybe my heart and my pussy knew something I didn’t about him.
“Fuck this,” I hiss and shake my head.
I’ve done nothing wrong and I’m not going to cry or pout about it. I’ll sleep it off and feel better tomorrow, lighter. But I don’t feel any different in the morning. Or the next day. Thirty approaches and I feel more alone than I ever have. I make a blog post about it and feel a fraction lighter. How long has it been since I’ve written anything rather than showed?
As a reward for making it to my birthday, I leave my apartment and head to the bar/restaurant. After getting a drink, I head to a swinging bench on the dock and settle in for the sunset. I take one picture and put my phone down.
“Charlotte!” Jack’s voice hardly shocks me. I glance over at him and watch him sit next to me. “Can we talk?”
“Is there anything for us to talk about?” I sip through my straw and only get air.
“I kicked her out. I don’t want Serena. I haven’t wanted her since the day I took back the ring and packed her belongings. I don’t know how she got in my apartment.”
“Why would she go up there uninvited?”
“She enjoys making people uncomfortable and loves drama.” He rolls his eyes and exhales sharply. “I think she’s jealous.”
I set my glass to the side and face him. “Why would she be jealous?”
“Because I’m not drooling over her,” he says simply. “I’m too distracted by you. She’s not used to other women taking the spotlight off her.”
“Don’t use compliments to get yourself out of trouble, Jack. It’s beneath you,” I scoff.
“I mean it.” No other defense comes from his lips.
We sit in silence for a while, watching the sun sink lower and lower over the water. Jack breaks the silence. “Isn’t it your birthday?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“What are you doing out here? Don’t you have a party or something to go to?”
I stretch my legs out and shake my head. “No. After losing my mom, birthdays are hard for me.”
“But your friends must insist on celebrating,” he continues.
“I have more followers than friends. Since traveling here, I haven’t made much of an effort to keep up communication.” I show him my phone and the list of “happy birthday” comments. “People like the illusion of friendship, and I appreciate their effort, but when it comes down to it, I don’t know any of them.”
Jack studies me for a long while, as if he’s trying to plan something. Rather than figure it out, I shrug. “It’s okay. I prefer to control what people know about me. Helps me feel…”
“Independent and safe?” Jack guesses.
“Exactly.” I nod. “Being lonely once a year is worth it.”
Jack rubs his chin, then offers me his hand as he stands up. I glance from his hand to him. I want to trust him, to believe that things went down just as he said. He made the effort to win me back and didn’t hesitate to tell Serena to leave.
I slide my hand into his slowly and let him lead me back to the bar. I know it’s almost closing time since it’s a weekday and already almost 10 p.m. There’s next to no one when we walk in, but he sits us at the bar and nods to the bartender.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
He flashes me a smile that immediately makes my knees weak. It’s not fair that just a smile—a real smile—can affect me so intensely. He leans forward and almost whispers in my ear. “You don’t deserve to be lonely on your birthday, Charlotte.”
Then he orders a beer and something sweet. A frozen strawberry daiquiri with plenty of whipped cream on top. I smile and dip my finger in the whipped cream, sucking it off. After our second round of drinks, I notice that the noise in the bar is gone.
“I think we’re being kicked out, Jack,” I murmur.
He glances around, then slides off his stool and flips the sign on the door to “closed.” Jack ushers the workers out, saying he’ll take care of any additional cleanup that’s necessary, then returns to me.
Taking my hand again, he practically drags me to the kitchen.
I can’t help but giggle as he starts pulling out ingredients. “So, tell me about your life, Charlotte.”
“Do you really want to know?” I roll my eyes. “Isn’t my career a joke?”
“Maybe it won’t be if I know more about it.” His gaze pins me. “I like you after getting to know you.”
“Seeing me naked isn’t the same as knowing me,” I chide.
He chuckles and shakes his head.
“Life is challenging, but there’s always something worse, you know.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.
“I’m not asking about what’s worse. I’m asking about you,” Jack insists.
I bite my lip and lean against the main prep table. “It’s been a bit difficult since I got here. I thought things would turn out differently, but instead I’m stuck in my head and feel like I’m going nowhere.”
He doesn’t comment as he pulls a mixing bowl down.
Exhaling, I feel myself slump a little. “I went to a potential partnership meeting and was shot down because they think I’m fake. I think I’m pretty real, but I guess I edit things too heavily.”
“Maybe you should talk to people like you talk to Hamlet.” He snorts.
I giggle and cover my mouth slightly. It’s a bad joke, and I know it is. “I don’t really know how to handle that type of situation, I suppose. It’s easier to run when I’m upset than to try and process it, especially when I have no control.”
Jack nods to me and takes another sip of beer. “Feeling like you have no control is enough to trigger that flight-or-fight instinct.”
I sigh, then turn my attention back to what he’s doing. He’s cracking eggs? “What are you making?”
“Listen, I’m not as great a baker as I am a businessman, but I refuse to let anyone go without a birthday cake.”
I laugh as I watch him mix things, trying to follow a recipe on his phone. I attempt to take over, but we end up messy with something lumpy and questionable shoved into the oven.
“Did you add any salt?” he asks.
“I don’t remember.” I giggle as I wipe flour off my face.
Jack leans toward me and brushes it off my cheek. His eyes soften as I feel a warmth spread through my face. I bite my lip and look away. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me about you. The ex. That whole thing.”
He rubs his hands on a towel and nods while setting the alarm. “Max and I were going into a deal together. A family friend wanted to take a chance on me, and who better to rope in than my best friend?”
I nod and fight the urge to lick the bowl of cake batter.
“He cut me out, said he was the better man for the job and that I was adequate but not worth the pay being offered.” He drags the bowl away from my hand and starts to wash it. “Once I lost out on that, Serena left me. She said I’d never amount to anything because I was too trusting.”
“I’m sorry, Jack.” I put my hand on his arm. “I can’t imagine what it was like to see them here together.”
He meets my eyes and smiles sadly. “Two years ago, I would have been broken up over it, but now I think they’re right for each other. The petty part of me wants the validation of rubbing their faces in my success.”
“And you’re very successful,” I point out with a smile, “for a glorified handyman.” I can’t resist teasing him.
“Says the amateur model.”
I roll my eyes at him. “How much longer until the cake is done, asshole?”
“Fifteen minutes.” He double-checks the time listed on the recipe and nods. “Plenty of time for you to tell me more.”
“I’m thirty, I like taking pictures at the beach, and I wanted to be a doctor growing up.” I lean my head to the side, pretending to think. “I’m also a Gemini, if that counts.”
He shakes his head, but I see his smile. “Why didn’t you go into medicine?”
“After seeing doctors when my mom was going through chemo, I knew I couldn’t do it. It takes someone much stronger than I was to be able to see suffering day to day without losing faith in life,” I admit.
Jack watches me for a while, then takes my hand, rubbing my knuckles with his thumb. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen.” I shrug, used to slouching it off. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Jack. I’ve gone this long without your pity.”
“I don’t pity you.” He touches my face again, his thumb stroking under my bottom lip. “As horrible as it was and is, you’ve come out of it successful and strong.”
I swoon right there and then. I swallow the tears that threaten me and excuse myself for a minute. I’m dangerously vulnerable right now and I’m not sure I have it in me to break down in front of Jack.
The few minutes in the bathroom help me to reset. I can be closer to him without spilling every memory and every feeling I have. I can like him without letting him in all the way. Two more deep breaths and I head back to Jack.
“Down to seven minutes,” he says.
“Thank you.” He looks up as I speak. “For the birthday cake. I don’t remember the last time someone got me one, let alone made one for me.”
He gives me a half smile. “You probably shouldn’t thank me until we try it. It might not be safe to eat.”
We pull it out of the oven a few minutes later and stare at it suspiciously. It doesn’t look great, it doesn’t look like it’s going to kill me either. But we are missing the most important thing—frosting.
I make do with the whipped cream in the fridge and put it on heavily once Jack has the cake on a plate. He takes a forkful and offers it to me. I taste it as he’s grabbing for a piece of his own. I grab his fork and shake my head while trying not to choke.
Once I swallow it, I laugh. “It is so dry.”
“Damn.” He shakes his head at the cake. “I still think I need to taste it.”
I ready a fork, but he turns my chin to face him and closes the space between us. I feel myself blush, but I don’t back down.