Page 79 of Mr. Charming

“I’m gonna be honest. I’m upset.” He rests his forearms on his thighs, leaning closer than he needs to.

I sit back and bring my legs up, crossing them. For a little added protection, I hug a pillow to my body.

“Scared?” he asks.

“Deathly.”

He chuckles, and I realize how much I’ve missed being in a room with just the two of us. “Me too. Just tell me why.”

“Why what?”

He peeks up at me through his long eyelashes. “Why Decker?”

I shrug. “Well, he was easy and convenient. He wasn’t going to get attached, and most importantly, he wasn’t a serial killer.”

He doesn’t laugh at my joke, holding my gaze. “You know what I mean.”

I inhale a breath. “Haven’t you ever felt like this thing between us is just too big to ignore? I knew you’d never encourage me to cheat, so I figured it would keep you just far away enough that we’d get through my time in Chicago without making a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“I don’t think this thing between us will ever go away.”

“Do you want it to?” Before I can respond, he adds, “I don’t.”

“Oh, Tweetie.” I squeeze my eyes shut.

He slides a little closer, but not all the way.

I clutch the pillow a little harder.

“Listen. I know we have a lot of shit between us. And I’m totally up for ordering takeout, sitting here all night, and dissecting everything that went wrong, but in the end, having you here, seeing you with him, Tedi…” His gaze rises to meet mine, and I swallow from the depth of emotion in his baby blues. “I want another chance.”

“Oh my god.” I drop the pillow and stand. “No.” I shake my head over and over.

“No what?”

“No, you don’t.”

This is all my fault—having Decker pretend to be my boyfriend has made Tweetie think he wants me back. After all these years apart, he decides to be all in now?

He laughs and sits back on the couch, no longer rigid and uncomfortable. “You’re telling me what I want now?” He relaxes into my uncomfortable sofa, one arm splayed around the back and the other one cast lazily over a pillow.

“Someone has to.”

“I’m not joking, Tedi.” And he doesn’t look as if he’s joking. He looks very, very serious. Which only scares me more.

“I get it. I was jealous of that mom at the ice rink. It’s hard for us to see the other with someone else, but a second chance?”

He’s shaking his head before I can even finish. “It has nothing to do with Decker.”

“Really? I never saw you seeking me out after Ford’s retirement party. I don’t remember any missed calls or texts or love letters being sent to me.”

He leans over and pats the couch. “Sit down. You’re making yourself anxious standing there.”

I cross my arms, taking a dramatic step backward. “I’m fine.”

He sits up again and grabs a fidget thing my nephew made on his 3D printer, moving it around. He studies it for a second, fiddling with it while I wait.

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