Page 58 of The Roommate Lie

Not my problem.

Some quiet part of me has a hunch about all those questions Tiffany’s asking. Old me—the girl who existed before Charlie cornered her in this mine—would’ve at least been curious if that hunch was correct. But that girl doesn’t exist anymore. New me only cares about one thing right now, and it isn’t my ex.

The barest sliver of air separates me from Charlie. That’s all that matters now, the tiniest fraction of empty space that runs the length of our bodies. It feels like it isn’t enough room, but it also feels like too much.

Play a dangerous game with me, Blythe. Just this once.

Now I’m really blushing. That thought pops into my head, and there’s an inferno under my skin. Thank goodness he isn’t looking at me. Thank goodness Charlie can’t see the inappropriate thoughts written all over my face.

Then he turns his head.

Time stops, and Charlie’s looking right at me. Studying me.

Hide.

I duck my head, but there’s nowhere to go. Our hiding place is too small, his body too close. All I can do is bury my face in the front of his shirt like the awkward wallflower I am, andI’ve made a terrible mistake.

He smells incredible. A rich, spicy scent folds around me, sandalwood and cloves with a hint of oranges, just enough. It’s an intoxicating combination, and getting closer to this man was a bad idea.How is any one man allowed to smell this good?

I’d retreat if I could, but there’s no turning back now that I’ve gotten this close. Lifting my head and meeting his gaze is not an option. Especially once I start shaking.

I’m not sure where those tremors come from, but my body has betrayed me once again, and this is one hundred percent an Anxiety Girl problem. I get so overwhelmed being that close to him, having all those feelings crop up out of nowhere, and then I’m trembling uncontrollably. Like a weirdo.

I couldn’t stop if I tried—I do try. But it’s no use.

Charlie keeps his arm braced on the wall behind me as I shake and tremble and die of shame. Slowly, carefully, he moves his other hand to cradle the back of my neck, his voice gentle as he tries to comfort me. Because that poor man thinks I’m upset. About Jason.

“It’s all right,” he says softly. “If they come in here, I’ll handle it. Just follow my lead.”

Anywhere. I would follow this man’s leadanywhere. Ten minutes ago, we were just friends, but now the sound of his voice makes my knees weak, the way he murmurs those words. The feel of his fingertips as he strokes the side of my neck to soothe me.

It doesn’t make sense. This man isn’t my type. I have said that and meant it multiple times. But if Charlie isn’t my type, why is this happening?

I try to focus on something else. The rock wall is cold behind me, and a chill seeps through the thin summer fabric of my t-shirt, but I barely feel it. All I really feel is him. The weight of his palm against the back of my neck, the gentle graze of his chin above the top of my head. We’re cramped and crowded and two seconds away from getting caught, but I’d stay in here with Charlie forever.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, and then he says more. His voice growing so soft, I think I’m imagining it.Everything’s going to be okay, Carrots. I promise.

There’s no way he actually said that out loud; I’m having a fever dream. Yet I hear it so clearly, those words whispered so sweetly, my legs wobble.

Outside, Tiffany and Jason keep arguing before they finally give up and go home, but I barely notice. All I can think about is Charlie, and how maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe he’s been my type all along.

I’m just not sure what I’m going to do about it.

Chapter Thirty

CHARLIE

Lydia:Happy first day of fake dating! How long before you two accidentally fall in love?

I refuse to dignify that text with a response as I walk home with Alice.Refuse. For about five seconds.

Charlie:Accidentally falling in love usually requires eye contact. Which she’s avoiding.

Love is the last thing on this girl’s mind. Carrots has barely said anything since we left that mining exhibit. She won’t even look at me.

The Gold Rush cupcake I bribed her with before we left downtown didn’t help. It earned me two seconds of conversation at the bakery before she clammed back up. As we reach the Lilac Hedgerow, the crumpled wrapper in her hand is the only thing left, but her mood still hasn’t lifted.

Lydia is undeterred. Giving up isn’t really her thing.

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