Page 53 of Good Girl

“I don’t think it, I know it. I had to go home, and you all realized—”

“What?” I cut in. “Come on, tell me what we did because this is all news to me.”

“You know what I mean,” she muttered, and I tutted sharply.

“No, Charlotte, I don’t. Idoknow that this week was extremely busy, but I have tried to reply when I’ve had the chance, and I’m sure the others are the same. I know we all care about you, but sometimes, life gets in the way. Exams are around the corner, and it’s a lot of work for all of us, but none of that is a reflection on us or how we feel about you.”

“But... but you guys didn’t...”

“Didn’t what?” I cocked a brow as Charlotte’s expression began to soften. “It’s only a week, and I understand you may have needed us, but none of us would have wanted to choose work over you. Life got in the way, and Icanspeak for all of us when I say that making these assumptions isn’t healthy for either of us. We care about you, Charlotte, and honestly, you should have more respect for us.”

Charlotte’s cheeks flared crimson and she quickly licked at her lower lip.

“I thought—”

“You assumed,” I corrected. Charlotte nodded.

“There’s no shame in asking for reassurance, but if you had told me, or any of us, that you felt this way,, then we could have done something about it sooner. Instead, you’ve decided we’re assholes.” I pushed up from the bar and Charlotte swiveled with me.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been so... you were all so busy and not even texting back that often, and then I got to thinking that maybe you’d decided you’d had your fill and that’s why you didn’t care.” She pressed her lips together, and her shoulders rose in a deep, controlled sigh as if she was trying to calm herself down.

“You should havespokento us,” I pointed out as gently as I could above the music. “Maturity is communication. When we told you we were busy, it was the truth, and there was no cloaked meaning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmm...” I tutted softly, swiping my tongue over my lower lip as I studied her, trying to work out how best to persuade her to come with us, when it struck me.

“You want to make it up to me?”

“Sure.” She nodded so quickly that her daisy chain earrings bounced around her cheeks.

“I know a much better club than this one.” I smiled and tilted my head. “Come out with us instead.”

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, scanning through the crowd, likely looking for her friend. Whatever she was looking for, though, she seemed to find it, and her shoulders dipped down, then she turned back to me.

“Okay. I’ll come with you.”

Charlotte was in for the wildest night of her life.

25

CHARLOTTE

Ishould feel guilty for leaving Haley at the club. Maybe in the morning, I would, but right now, I was fueled by three tequila shots and a cocktail, and Haley was the least of my concerns. She’d left me alone in that club more times than I could count. It was my turn.

The guys weren’t mad at me. They weren’t bored, they hadn’t changed their mind, and they certainly weren’t planning on just ditching me, at least according to Samuel. My anxieties and my worries from my mother had twisted my small doubts into something so large that I could have ruined this amazing thing for myself simply because I didn’t tell them how I was feeling.

I had made assumptions, decidedforthem, and given myself unnecessary turmoil. All of that could have been avoided if I had just spoken up about how lonely I was feeling and how much I actually needed to see them. Haley was so wrong in her games. Communication was the way forward.

Lesson learned.

Samuel was giving me a chance to make it up to him and the guys for assuming the worst, and I was taking it with both hands. He drove us to a somewhat seedier part of town and parked across the street from a small club tucked in the corner of the street. A red and black glowing sign readingTranquilityblinked at me as we approached the simple black door with a gold handle and swirls of gold paint sweeping up the left-hand side.

Samuel stopped just shy of the door and sent me a glance. “Ready?”

I sucked in a forceful breath and nodded, clinging to all the liquid courage warming my gut. Samuel opened the door, and we stepped inside.

We were greeted by a short hallway with black walls and a plush red carpet that my heels sank into. The walls were draped in subtle gold, shimmering netting, and the three lights above us glowed amber, giving the hallway a closed-off, intimate feel. Samuel led the way to the red door at the opposite end where he then pulled a small card from the breast pocket of his striped shirt and slid it through the letterbox. A beat of silence passed, then the door slid open and we stepped into the circular foyer of the club.

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