Charlotte
From the second I wake up, the odd encounter is all I think about. To getting into the shower, and now sitting at the kitchenette devouring a bowl of Fruit Loops, all I see is the way Duke’s eyes smoldered and darkened. He wanted to kiss me. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him. I’ve never been looked at like he did last night, and I don’t know what that means.
“Explain it to me again,” Rachel asks, dumping a hearty helping of cereal into a random bowl left on the counter.
“How do you know that isn’t dirty?” I flick the rim of the bowl she’s pouring milk into. She shrugs and dunks her spoon to the bottom and takes a giant bite.
“So, you went to Duke’s apartment to do what, exactly?” She sits down beside me.
“Find out why he got into a fight. Wes told me he heard about it around campus, and...” My explanation drifts off into thin air. I have no excuse for going over there, and from the way my best friend is staring at me, I’d say she agrees. “What? We’re friends.”
“Duke Anderson and I are friends. You two are a whole different mess.” Her eyes narrow, and I hate what they insinuate.
“We can be friends.” The whine in my voice tells the truth.
“Most friends don’t look at each other like they want to rip each other’s clothes off.” She chortles. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
She clearly doesn’t believe me, and for the first time, I’m also questioning what is and isn’t happening between Duke and me.
“I have class.” I feign excitement.
“You going to the hospital?” Rachel pulls her hair into a top knot.
“What kind of question is that?” I raise my eyebrows. A day hasn’t passed since the accident where I haven’t spent a portion, large or small, by Jacob’s side. No, that’s not true. Since Friday, not a single moment of my day had been consumed by anything other than Duke. How did that happen?
The guilt I feel, but shouldn’t, settles in. What if Jacob wakes up? What if he takes his last breath, and I never apologize? Our last conversation hadn’t gone how I’d wanted.
“A stupid one.” She shrugs. “Just make sure to take care of yourself in the process. It’s okay to put yourself first once in a while. You don’t owe anyone anything.” With a kiss on my crown as she passes, she leaves me with a bit of wisdom I never asked for but need.
While I get ready, I think about what Rachel said. Maybe it’s about time I put myself first. It’s okay to be selfish every so often. I pull out my phone and click a few buttons.
Me: You busy today? Want to meet up?
Duke: When and where?
Me: Library @ noon?
Duke: See you then.
My guilt is replaced with regret. I tuck my phone into my purse. Rachel mentioned for me to relax and take time for myself, so why is it Duke’s face comes to mind with those instructions? I’m treading on thin ice, with a crack down the middle, spidering outwards, begging for sweet release under the weight.
My morning classes go by at a snail’s speed. My lab partner in Chemistry complains the entire hour about my behavior. I can barely focus during my Ethics in Journalism lecture. The stress may be getting to me, or perhaps, it’s been getting to me for a while. My pride is what’s been stopping me from admitting the truth. I’m in over my head, with all of it.
School. Jacob. Work.
And now Duke.
I’m crumbling, and everyone around me knows how unstable it’s all becoming.
The walk to the library is chilly. The air is cool and wet. I cross my arms over my chest to stay warm, having left my coat on the couch this morning.
My usual spot in the far back corner is empty. I glance over the balcony. Every table is filled with students cramming information into their minds to prepare for their impossibly demanding classes. I know the feeling all too well.
By noon, my books are scattered over the large table, opened to their respective pages. I do my best to correlate material from each one to make a complete thought. Sort of like what I’m doing with Duke at this exact moment.
He stands at the top of the steps, scanning over the space. His black leather jacket forms perfectly to his body. He’s all broad shoulders and sexy hair.
My mind catalogues my body’s response. The way my shoulders relax at the sight of him. The flutter in my stomach. Deepening breaths that burn my chest.
A smile stretches on his lips when he sees me watching him. The chair squeaks as he pulls it out and takes a seat, dropping his backpack on the ground. The drawstrings on his heather grey hood hang loose down the front, and I resist the urge to toy with them.
“The library, huh?” Duke leans forward, but his eyes don’t focus on me. Instead, they widen and scan the space, like I’ve just invited him to Hogwarts.
“Don’t spend much time here?” I giggle, and his head snaps back to me.
“I’m more of a solitary studier. This many people around would drag my attention away.” He shrugs. “People watcher.”
“That’s why I study up here.”
“It’s quiet because this is where people go to hook up. It’s so secluded, there’s no way to get caught.”
Why does he have to look at me with those smoldering eyes and cute smile? Now, all I can think about is us hooking up. Snap out of it, Charlotte.
“Hook-up? No, they don’t. I study up here every week, and I’ve never seen anyone hooking up.”
“My guess is your nose is too far into your books, and you don’t hear them slinking up the steps.”
“Duke, that only happens in movies.” I twist in my chair, inspecting my surroundings.
“Whatever you say.” He holds his hands up, relenting his side of the argument. “So, why’d you beckon me to the library? To hook up?”
His playful joke feels like more than that.
“Since when is it a crime to enjoy your company?” He has a right to be confused. We sort of have a tit-for-tat thing going on.
Duke strums his knuckles on the table. “Depends.”
I love the way his lips curl in the corner when he’s being playful.
“On what?” I lean back in my chair, testing him, or more like goading him.
“What do you plan on doing with me?” His voice is deep, and every word is said with seduction and willingness. The air outside is cool, but dammit, Duke’s presence compensates with a certain kind of heat when we are this close together.
“Where are you supposed to be right now?” I softly kick at his backpack.
“Where I’m at.” Duke bites the corner of his bottom lip and checks over the mess in front of us. “How’s the article going?”
“Slow moving. I’ve had a hard time scheduling with Mr. St. James. I think I have enough from Derks, but I’m still planning on shadowing him, which will be interesting, to say the least.”
“I have to ask, why journalism?” Duke peels his jacket off like a damn model, exposing his toned arms one at a time.
“We all deserve the truth, Duke, and sometimes it gets lost in our own reality. I think that’s what’s wrong with our world. No one is willing to tell the kind of truth that can hurt others, but the way I see it, not knowing the true story is just as painful.” Maybe I should start telling the truth I’m always searching for in my stories.
“Wow,” Duke exclaims.
“What?” Duke’s scent hits me.
“You’re poetic.” He dips his chin, hiding everything I need to see.
“No one has ever called me poetic,” I admit.
He glances up, and our eyes lock. We’re stuck in unrelenting time.
Discomfort settles deep within the walls of my heart. The word is intimate and sincere to the point of being unbearable. A guy like him shouldn’t look at me the way he is now. Does my stare resemble his? Shit. I know it does.
“You’re passionate, is all. That’s all I meant.” Duke can backtrack all he wants, but my heart felt those words.
A beautiful ache forms in my lower belly. The innate urge to reach out and touch him filters from my heart, until it reaches the tips of my fingers. He runs his ring along the edge of the table, pulling me away from my wild dream.
“Yeah, well, I just hope it comes through in the article. This is my first real shot, and I don’t want to blow it.” Confidence isn’t easy to come by.
“You’re nervous.” Does he have to be so observant?
“I don’t know much about Ari St. James, but what I do know is he doesn’t allow many people close to him, especially the press.” I’m nervous about this interview. Derks has been a breeze. He’s easygoing. Ari St. James, according to what I read, hasn’t been interviewed since he allegedly attacked a reporter. Of course, there was no evidence of the crime.
“He’s definitely not known for his giving personality,” he scoffs.
Animosity rolls off Duke’s shoulders in waves. His eyes deflect around the room. The thighs of his jeans are going to rip if he keeps assaulting the fabric like that. His lips curl, and even though he’s fuming, he’s adorable. Ari has clearly not left a good impression on Duke to garner this kind of reaction.
“Do you know something?” I brace my forearms on the table and lean into Duke’s space, eager to see what he has to say. Our knees brush, and enough electricity to bathe our town in light surges through my body.
His hair falls into his eyes, and I wonder what it would feel like to brush it back to reveal his intoxicating green eyes. Would they stare at me like it’s the first time seeing me? Maybe he’d look at me as if he’s known me forever.
“Look at you.” He chortles, leaning back in his chair. The heat from our connection disappears. “You’re fully intrigued.” Ari St. James is a surprising tick for him.
“You should expect nothing less from me.” I smirk, mirroring his position in my own chair.
“So, any news on Jacob?” Duke changes the subject. It’s like throwing water onto a flame, forcing down the heat before it grows to uncontrollable proportions.
“Doctors seem hopeful.” My generic answer doesn’t work on Duke. His eyes burn into me, letting me know it’s okay to say whatever I need to say. “Every day that passes is more painful. There’s a lot I still need to say to Jacob, and if he doesn’t wake up, I’m afraid I’ll never get the chance to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“Sometimes guilt feels heavier when you can’t talk about it.” Well, that’s about as honest as I’ve ever been with Duke.
“And why can’t you talk about it?”
“Do you want to get out of here?” I stand and gather my things, stuffing papers between the pages of my textbooks. This will all be a mess to organize later, but I need an out. My guilt about Jacob’s accident isn’t something I’m ready to talk to Duke about.
“Sure.” Duke slides on his jacket, and my mind blanks at the sight of the soft leather skimming over his arms and covering his tattoos. The act is every bit normal, but my heart races, and my palms sweat.
“You okay?” Duke’s deep voice breaks me free from the shackles of watching him.
“Yeah, sorry, just got lost there for a second.” If by lost, I mean completely thinking about what the leather would feel like on my skin, then sure.
The weight of my backpack on my shoulder almost feels as heavy as my guilt over the accident, but more so, my undeniable attraction to Duke. I walk outside and glance around. It was my idea to get together and then to get out of the library. Now, I feel like a fish out of water, unsure of how I need to breathe and my next move to get to safety.
Duke steps around me, and I follow him to the parking lot. He unlocks the door to his truck and swings it open for me.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as he slips behind the wheel. The overhead mirror is a perfect distraction. My messy bun is a perfect reflection of my life. “I get nervous around you.” I slam the mirror shut and shift forward to gain Duke’s attention. “I don’t know why I said that, but you do” —I tilt my head from side to side— “make me nervous.”
He flicks the radio off, and suddenly, the silence squeezes the life from my body. “Why do you think that is?”
My lungs fill and release, and my words tumble behind the breath. “Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself. You’re so sure, all the time. You give off a ‘fuck you’ kind of attitude.”
“Is it a bad thing?” Duke’s voice lowers. Curiosity burns in his stare.
“It’s an unexpected thing.” I offer him a smile of reassurance. “You’re a frat boy, Duke, and I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror lately, but nothing about you screams polos and yacht clubs.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit stereotypical?” He drums the ring on his thumb against the steering wheel to a tune only he can hear. “Not all frat boys are seconds away from popping their collars and cashing out their trust fund.”
“You know what I mean!” I exclaim.
“No, I really don’t. Do explain.” He glances at me, not worried about pulling out of the parking spot.
“It’s the hair.” I graze my fingers along the base of his neck. He doesn’t move to look at me, but his spine stiffens.
“What?” Duke’s skeptical tone says he’s unsure of where I’m going with this. I can’t necessarily blame him.
“Rachel claims your hair has an effect on some girls.” I wonder how silly I sound from his side of the truck.
“Some girls? Or you?” He chuckles. “And what kind of effect are we talking about?”
“You know...” I dodge the question, fiddling with the straps on my bag.
“No, Charlotte, I don’t know. Enlighten me.” He runs his thumb along his bottom lip once he has my full attention. He knows what he’s doing, right? He has to.
“Well, certain physical features make a girl squirm.” Heat rises to my cheeks. I lean forward to hide my embarrassment. Am I really saying this? I wish he’d stop, or else I’m going to start a fire by rubbing my legs together.
“Like what?” The humor in his voice cuts the cord holding onto my nerves. His cheeks clench tight. The grin stretches under his quick restraint.
“This isn’t funny, Duke!” I slap his arm. The rumble of my laughter fills the small space.
“Oh, sweetheart, this is entirely funny.” He looks at me. “You are so uncomfortable in your own skin. You can say it, you know?”
“And what is it you think you know so well, huh?” I roll my eyes, cross my arms over my chest, and inch away from Duke.
“You want to fuck me.” His unapologetic tone hits me straight between the legs.
“What?” I huff. “Huh? What are you talking about?” That’s it, play dumb. That always works.
“We’re both grown adults, Char. You can admit you’re attracted to me. Hell, it’s unbearable sometimes to stand beside you and not rip your clothes off. The smell of your perfume or body wash or whatever that delicious scent rolling off you is, makes me want to lick just about every inch of you.”
I cover my throat at his honesty, in hopes to stifle the yelp dying to release. “I will admit to no such thing, and thank you. It’s my perfume.”
“Okay, fine, but let the record show, I already know you think about me when you’re lying in bed at night.” Duke smirks over at me. “When you first crawl in, the room is dark, so there’s no guilt about your thoughts. Maybe you take your small hand and run it down your stomach, teasing the waistband of your panties with the tips of your fingers until all five of them are hidden from sight, but you can feel them.” He releases a guttural moan. “Oh, you can feel them, and then one slips between, rubbing that spot you know is there, but no one’s ever found. Yet.”
I smack him across the chest, jostling him from his provocative day dream. “Knock it off.” Please don’t stop. “Now, where are we going?” It takes everything in my being to stop myself from thinking about the miserable ache dying to be rubbed out.
He glances at me, his eyes smoldering as they catch my knees rubbing together to ease some of the pain his words cause. “Where else do you go when you want to escape?”
“Who said I needed an escape?” In reality, I need exactly that. Something to clear my mind and ease my achy heart is on the menu with Duke.
“A girl has never called me in the middle of the day except for two things.” He laughs. “A quickie or an escape. Since you aren’t the quickie kind of girl, I’d say it’s safe to say you could use a good laugh.”
*****
“Just so we’re clear, I look ridiculous.” I model the plastic vest strapped across my body. Heat flames my cheeks.
“Okay!” The arcade attendant presses a button on my vest. “It’s you two versus them. Think you can handle that?”
Duke makes faces at the two kids beside us. They both grimace and stick their tongues out.
“Well, since they’re ten, I’d say we can handle it.” Duke sticks his tongue out, and I sputter out a laugh. This playful, child-like side of him is endearing and hard to come by.
For an hour, Duke dives dramatically from obstacle to obstacle, shooting wildly without any regard for a target. I do my best to keep up through all the hilarity. I haven’t had this much fun in, I don’t know how long, but I don’t want it to stop. I could live in moments like this forever.
“Cover my back,” I yell. We scurry across the course, darting behind one of the larger walls. The room is pitch black with occasional various colored laser beams, set on a timer to enhance the experience.
“You having fun?” Duke’s out of breath. His chest rises and falls, and he gasps for air between his words and laughter.
“A day to forget is what I needed.” I kneel in front of him.
“What are you trying to forget, Charlotte?”
What am I trying to forget? Everything.
“Have you ever had a weight sitting on your chest?” I sit and rest my head against the felt wall.
“All the time.” Duke leans forward, propping his forearms on his knees. “I have a pretty shitty situation with my parents. It’s the one consistent thing in my life. Disappointing them is my normal.”
“I’m almost positive I caused Jacob’s accident,” I unload. “We got into an argument that night, and he stormed out.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Duke consoles me.
“Sometimes you don’t need the details to shoulder the burden of blame.” I stand and finish our game. I catch Duke watching me. A worried expression taints his face until the lights brighten. He cares, but is it me he cares about?
“Times up,” Duke hollers over one of the barriers. “We won.”
“We’re ten, dude,” one of the kids says, passing by Duke.
I break out in a merciless laugh, biting down on my bottom lip to stifle my amusement. “Sorry, I can’t stop laughing.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Duke heads towards the exit, where a worker waits to take our vests.
“What now?” I ask, hoping to not let the day end quite yet. “Want to see if those boys want you to kick their ass in some bowling?”
“No, but we could bowl, though.” Duke walks to the double doors leading to the alley.
“You think you can out bowl me?” I raise an eyebrow and grin, waltzing by and adding an extra sway to my hips. He’s behind me. I’m certain his eyes are on my ass, and not an ounce of me feels guilty. Something about that both scares and thrills me.
Since Duke paid for laser tag, I scurry to the front desk to cover a game of bowling and two pairs of shoes.
“What size are you?” He reaches for his pocket, but I wave him off. “What size shoe are you?”
“Twelve, please.” Duke speaks directly to the attendant.
Our shoes are a strange comparison of his large to my small. Large feet, check. Large hands, check. Large... my eyes scan down to his pants. Jury still out.
We type our names on the screen, and of course, I demand mine be first. Duke doesn’t protest, only laughs as I attempt to find the perfect ball, set up my shot, and roll my ball down the lane.
Eight pins fall, but I split the others, leaving them as far away from each other as possible.
“Good luck with that,” Duke whispers in my ear. Over my shoulder, he smiles the sexiest smirk, and I’m immediately uncomfortable from the easy attraction, which hasn’t died down. A part of me, the hopeful part, assumed it would. In no world are Duke and I meant to be something, but along the way, we’ve shifted and tilted into the something we aren’t allowed to be.
I set up again and hurl the ball down the lane, only for it to slip by without grazing one of the pins. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
“Better luck next time.” He kisses the side of my head as he passes. His eyes widen, mirroring my own, but neither of us say anything. The sweet contact causes my heart to stutter and catches me off guard. The idea behind the kiss is friendly, but the intent is much heavier.
I sit down behind the score screen, and Duke rolls a strike. He cheers, raising his arms in the air, and spins to me for equal enthusiasm, his lower abs exposed and a grin on his lips a mile wide.
“Did you just see that?” He plops down next to me.
I slump down in the seat, and the lanes blur in front of me. “Yeah, I saw.”
“Char, you’re up.”
“Why did you do that?” The better question is why did I like it so much?
“Do what?” He shakes his head as if I’ve confused him.
“You just kissed my temple. You text me to say goodnight. We flirt, but that... that was something entirely different. It was intimate.” Please don’t stop doing these things. As confusing as they are, they make me happy.
Duke stalls, scanning through the settings on the screen before slumping back into his seat.
“Remember when I said how easy it is to be around you?” Duke drums his ring on the plastic surrounding the screen. “Like impossibly easy.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is when I’m me, and you’re you.” He raises his brow, challenging me to contradict his words.
I can’t though. He’s completely right. Duke and I are impossibly easy, and our simple connection makes everything much more difficult.
We don’t mention it the rest of the game. Actually, we don’t mention anything. Instead, we watch every move the other makes without exchanging a single word.
“Is there any way you could drop me off at the hospital?” I ask Duke when he pulls into traffic.
He clutches the steering wheel, strangling the leather under his grip.
“Yeah, sure thing.” He shakes his head, a distant look in his eyes.
The parking lot is no more packed than any other hospital in America. Emergencies. Trauma. It’s the way of my world these days.
“Thank you for today, Duke.” I swivel in my seat. “It was exactly what I needed.”
He smiles. “Tell Jacob I said hey.” With a shift of his spine, he no longer looks at me, and I instantly miss his eyes.
I shut the door of his truck and wave as he drives off, catching him peeking at me in the rearview mirror.
The nurses say hello as I pass with slow, calculated steps and uncertain feelings.
“Hey, Jacob,” I whisper when I enter the room. The lights are dim, and the television makes quiet noise in the background. The whir of machinery rings deep in my ears, a sound I’m growing too accustomed to.
“Looks like someone didn’t want you to be alone.” I click the power button, and the screen turns black.
“These one-sided conversations are becoming weird.” I reach out for his hand. Lifeless but warm. “We’ve failed each other. You’re all I’ve ever known, Jacob. You were my own slice of Heaven.”
The only problem is Heaven brings happiness. It’s shiny lights and cloudless days. Everything anyone could ever want. Sometimes, when you get past all the euphoria, you catch a glimpse of hell wrapped in tattoos, darkness, and torture. The kind of torture that kisses you on the temple to remind you it’s there, waiting.