Page 127 of Betting on You

I texted him:My mom just confirmed that we WILL be moving in with Scott.

And two hours later, he still hadn’t responded.

So I hadn’t been paranoid.

If it were someone else, it would be possible that he was just too busy to text me back.

But IknewCharlie.

I knew his work schedule—he was off today; I knew his texting habits—he always had his phone on him; and I knew his family’s schedule—they were out of town and he was home alone.

There was no reason—other than a freak accident—that he wouldn’t have responded to me by now. So there was only one explanation.

He was post-makeout ghosting me.

I flopped down on my bed, mortified and confused and sad by what appeared to be Charlie’s rejection. Because as unorthodox as we’d always been—first as strangers who didn’t like each other, then as coworkers and sort-of-friends—he’d never done anything to make me feel bad about myself.

He’dalwaysteased, but he’d never been unkind.

What an asshole,I thought as Mr. Squishy jumped onto my bed with a littlemreowgrunt. What a complete and total asshole.

Because he knew me—reallyknewme. He knew my anxieties and neuroses, and heknewsomething like this would make my brain turn endless cartwheels.

And apparently he didn’t care.

Maybe he was the jerk that I first thought he was.

Part of me thought I was ridiculous for being pissed, because Charlie hadn’t technically made any promises.

But the angry part of me disagreed, because dammit, hehadmade promises. We might not have labeled what we were, but when he’d kissed away my tears, that was a promise. When he’d held me while I cried, that was a promise.

Maybe not a promise to be my boyfriend, but a promise to besomethingto me.

Heknewthat he’d become mysomething, and it felt so fucking personal that he was fine with just leaving me alone when he knew I needed him. If he were to text me about something happening with his mom and her boyfriend, I’d respond—even this very second—because aside from everything else, I cared about his feelings.

He obviously didn’t feel the same.

I felt tears start to sting my eyes as I realized that everything that had passed between us was all just a big lie.

And I had fallen for it. All of it.

How could I be such a fool?

CHAPTER FORTY-SIXBailey

I took a deep breath, rubbed my freshly glossed lips together, and opened the door to the employee entrance. Charlie had literally ghosted me the entire weekend, and now we were going to have to work together. I was sad, hurt, and also white-hot pissed. I had no idea how I was going to behave around him.

Or how he was going to behave around me.

My stomach was full of butterflies as I opened the back door that led to the area behind the front desk. I hung my coat and purse on a hook, took a deep breath, and walked through the doorway that led to check-in.

“Hey, Bailey.”

I blinked and stared into Theo’s face. I took a step back—he was bad about personal space—and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, that’s really nice,” he teased, smiling and adjusting his name tag. “Way to make me feel unwanted.”

“Sorry,” I said, wanting to cut through the bullshit and figure out where Charlie was. “I just didn’t expect—I mean, you never work on Tuesdays. Wasn’t Charlie scheduled tonight?”

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