Page 88 of Betting on You

That couldn’t end well, right?

“I mean, he’s just one guy, so of course they have a shot,but it’ll be a lot harder without him,” my mom said.

I couldn’t watch them for another minute because it made me feel too guilty.

The Frappuccino lid came off with a click as I said, “I’m going to go shower.”

“But breakfast is almost ready,” my mom said.

She knew I never ate breakfast, so she was saying that just to make sure I didn’t hurt Charlie’s feelings by not eating his food. I cleared my throat and said, “I’m not hungry yet.”

“But Charlie made this entire spread,” she said, looking at Charlie like he was Santa Claus.

“I’ll for sure have some when I’m done,” I reassured her.

“Go fix that hair,” Charlie teased, and I liked the relaxed expression on his face. But I also wondered how he was so comfortable hanging out with my mom and making breakfast.

I worried about it as I showered, but I pretty much worried about everything while I showered. I worried about the “plan”—now that we were here, would it actually work? And if it did, would it result in my mom being devasted?

And what was happening with Charlie? There had been multiplemomentswith him yesterday, and I wasn’t sure if it was just me, overthinking, or if it was something more?

“No.” I said it out loud in the shower as I poured shampoo into my palm becauseno way.There was nothing going on between me and Charlie aside from complex emotions that had everything to do with each of our individual battles and nothing whatsoever to do with “us” as a whole.

He wouldn’t even use the word “friend” in regards to me, for God’s sake; he definitely wasn’t feeling something romantic.

By the time I convinced myself to chill and go back downstairs, things weren’t so relaxed anymore. The three of them were sitting at the table, my mom and Scott eating breakfast while Charlie talked about his mom’s boyfriend (and Scott’s face got red).

“He’s not a bad guy,” Charlie said, lifting his coffee mug to his mouth. “But shouldn’t he be at his own place with his own kids, instead of crashing at my mom’s every night?”

Holyshit.I couldn’t believe he said that.

“Any eggs left?” I asked as I walked into the room. “I’m starving.”

My mom looked incredibly happy to see me, Charlie gave me an amused grin, and Scott looked ready to fight.

“I’m on it,” Charlie said, taking a gulp of his coffee and standing. “They’ve eaten already, but I was waiting for you.”

We went into the kitchen, and the minute we crossed through the doorway, I heard Scott loud-whisper to my mom, “I do not like that kid.”

“Oh, he wasn’t talking about you,” my mom defended, her voice in that motherly singsong tone that was good at soothing tempers. “I asked him about his mom, and he was answering. That’s it.”

I glanced at Charlie, who winked at me. Then his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit before he quietly said, “Wait. C’mere.”

“What?” I asked, stepping closer to him even though I wasn’t sure why. I lowered my voice and said, “What are you doing?”

He gave me a look, his head motioning with a tiny nod toward the dining room table, and I realized what he was doing the minutehe put his hands on my waist. We were technicallyinthe kitchen, but the open floor plan had a wide entryway that left the majority of the area visible.

We were totally in their line of sight but conceivably unaware that we were being seen, so if they stopped arguing and glanced toward the kitchen, they would see our fake datery.

Of course, allIcould focus on was the heat of Charlie’s fingers as he lightly squeezed my waist. My breath felt trapped in my throat as I looked at his mouth and he whispered, “We should kiss.”

“What?”I hissed in a whisper, my cheeks growing hot. “Are you serious?”

“I mean, if you’re scared you’ll fall for me, I get it,” he whispered back, his mouth curling into a cocky grin. “But he’s gonna lose his shit and it will be puh-fucking-erfect.”

He was right about Scott, given what’d just happened in the dining room. The timing was perfect. I knew that, but every single nerve ending inside me was shorting out at the thought of kissing Charlie, of Charlie Sampson kissingme.

I raised my arms to his shoulders, wanting to be brave enough to go big even as a thousand butterflies went wild in my stomach. Nervousness shot through me, but I calmly said, “Let’s do it, Sampson.”

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