Page 81 of Someday Away

I think of his eyes that night, so uncaring—no remorse or guilt. But maybe I remember it wrong. I was so distraught. Maybe he just made a mistake and he really does just want forgiveness. I wouldn’t date him again, but I’m not above giving him a second chance.

Everyone deserves a second chance, right?

“Mocha for Charlie.” The barista’s voice pulls me from my revelry, and I take the drink from her, smiling.

I glance over again at Matt. He’s waving in my direction, so I take a deep breath and walk over to the table.

“Hey, Matt,” I say, setting down my coffee and throwing my backpack into the booth.

“Hi.” He gives me a sexy smile, but it makes my stomach ache.

“So what’s been going on?” He leans forward. “Tell me how school’s been going.”

“It’s great here,” I say, thankful that he’s starting with small talk. “I think I’m doing pretty well in my classes, and I’m in the middle of applying for an editing internship with Rosewood in New York next summer.

“Sounds cool.” His eyes narrow, but his tone sounds bored.

“I guess I’ve even made a few friends, too.”

“Friends?” he says, tilting his head to the side. It’s creepy the way he moves, like he’s one of those raptors fromJurassic Park—calculating and lethal. “You mean like Lincoln Evans and Trey Walker?”

Hearing their names fall from his lips immediately makes me bristle, but I swallow it down. “They’re not who I was referring to, but I suppose you could say we’re sort of friends,” I reply tightly.

“You should watch yourself around those two,” he says darkly.

His tone irritates me. “I think you’ve given me less of a reason to trust you than they have,” I snap, glaring at him.

Anger flares in his eyes before he schools his expression. Then his face falls, and something close to regret shadows his features. “Low blow.” He places his hand over his heart like I’ve wounded him.

I hope it hurts, asshole.

“But it’s a fair thing to say,” he continues. That comment surprises me. He sighs. “I know you said you’re over it, but letme just talk this time. You don’t even have to give me a response. Just listen.”

I nod.

“I had a lapse in judgment,” he starts. “We’d been together for so long, and I’d never been with anyone else. I guess I just wasn’t mature enough to be in a serious relationship that young, and I fucked up. And, Charlie, I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t expect you to forget, but I’m hoping you’ll believe me when I say that I regret it. I regret hurting you.”

I twist the end of my braid, somewhat stunned by his words because they make complete sense, and in the back of my mind, I wonder if he’s just telling what he thinks I want to hear.

His eyes fall to my hands. “But obviously you don’t completely believe me. That’s fine. I just wanted you to listen.”

“Why do you think I don’t believe you?” I ask.

He tips his chin at me. “You fidget like that when you’re anxious. It’s the second time you’ve done it tonight. I make you anxious.”

“You do,” I admit.

“How do I fix that?” he asks, his dark brows pulling together.

“I’m not sure you can.” He drops his eyes, seemingly disappointed. “But,” I say, watching as he glances back up at me. “I guess hanging out now and then is okay.”

The corner of his mouth tips up in a small smile, and he sighs with relief. We sit for a few minutes as we sip on our coffees before he finally clears his throat.

“So the movie theater, huh? Do you get to, like, run the projectors?”

I nod. “I do. It’s a fun job. Everything is pretty dated so we use a lot of old equipment, but I think that makes it more interesting.”

My phone buzzes on the table, and I glance down, seeing Lincoln’s name on the notification screen. My stomach does a little leap of excitement.

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