Page 70 of Betting on You

“Shut up.” I pushed the door with both hands, not yielding at all as I ran into the convenience store. The people in line at the counter looked at us as we flew past, but I kept my focus on the bathrooms.

“Coming hot on your left,” Charlie breathed, and the sound of him chasing me was downright predatorial.

“Staying hot on your right,” I panted.

The bathrooms waited for us at the back of the gas station, and we didn’t even slow as we each plowed through our respective door. I flew into a stall, hurried, splashed through the world’s fastest hand washing, and ran back out, ignoring the stares as I sprinted past the Pepsi coolers and blasted out the door.

I had a clear path to his car, and there wasn’t a sprinting Charlie in sight.

I was finally going to control the radio.

I ran all the way up to his car and slapped the hood with both hands—as per the rules—before jumping up and down, even though I was standing by myself next to his car.

Only, after ten more seconds, I wondered what was up.

Where the hell was Charlie?

The couple in the car on the other side of the gas pump was giving meIs she highside-eye, so I gave them a closed-mouth smile and got into the car.

While wondering where the hell he was. Was he okay? Had something happened? Was he in trouble? Just when I was reaching for my bag to find my phone, it started ringing.

“Gah.” I fumbled and fished it out, saw Charlie was calling, and raised it to my ear. “You lost. Come out and accept your shame.”

“I can’t,” he said, and his voice sounded…weird.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you sick?”

“No,” he said quietly, then said, “Well, yes, I kind of think I will be soon.”

“What?” My heart sped up at the sound of Charlie sounding…off. “Are you okay? What can I do?”

He sighed and muttered, “I dropped my keys.”

“Um.”What?“So pick them up…?”

He sighed again. “That’s the thing. I can’t.”

“Did they fall down a hole or something?”

Oh God. How were we going to get to the condo before midnight if he’d dropped his keys down a hole?

“Or something. They’re in the urinal.”

“What?” I looked over my shoulder at the gas station. “So… shouldn’t they be easy to grab?”

“I, um.” He cleared his throat, sounding very uncomfortable, and said, “Ican’t.”

I sat there for a half second before saying, “Charlie, are you telling me your keys are right there in the urinal, but you can’t grab them?”

It was quiet for a moment before he said, “Yes.”

I didn’t know what this meant, but I knew him well enough to know this wassomething.I asked, “Is anyone else in the bathroom?”

“No.”

“I’ll be right there.”

I grabbed my purse, got out of the car, and went back insidethe convenience store. I felt like an idiot as everyone I’d sprinted past a minute earlier stared at me, but I kept my eyes trained on the bathrooms in the rear of the store.

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