Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 145257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
I don’t know what Charlie will do.
I don’t even know what he’s thinking.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fucking fuck.
Charlie casually turns to his bodyguard, acting like nothing transpired. “I just have to talk to Sulli.” He glances between Akara, Banks, and Oscar. “And I’d like to talk to my cousin in private.”
“I’ll be outside,” Oscar says. “I can see you through the window.”
Banks and Akara don’t agree to that distance, but they take the crickets and head towards the other side of the store near the tackles. Out of earshot, but within better eyesight. They whisper to themselves, and I know Akara has to be updating Banks on this royal fuck-up.
“Charlie,” I whisper-hiss. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” His brows arch. “Shouldn’t I be the one with the first accusatory statement?”
I let out a frustrated noise. Communicating with him feels so fucking out of my wheelhouse sometimes. Like I need Jane. “I just wanted to know why you stopped by the fishing store.”
“I came to find you.” He shoves his hands in his wrinkled slacks. His white button-down is half-untucked and unbuttoned. “I’m not here to watch you climb, remember?”
He’s here to try and rebuild my friendship with Beckett. “Seriously?” I say. “You couldn’t have waited until I got back to camp to stage this fucking coup.”
Charlie tilts his head. “It’s not a coup, Sullivan. I was coming to guilt you into talking to him. Make some story up about how he’s having a bad day. Blah blah blah.” He waves a hand. “But I have a better idea now.”
No.
He smiles wickedly. “You call my brother, and I won’t tell anyone you and Akara are fucking.”
“We’re not fucking,” I whisper angrily. “We just kissed, and fuck you—don’t talk about me like that.” The way he said fucking, he made it sound…meaningless. And it’s never been to me.
Charlie rolls his eyes, but he eases up. “I believe you aren’t sleeping together.”
I exhale a tense breath. “Thank you.”
“Only because you’re a terrible liar.”
I glare. “So you’re blackmailing me? Your own cousin?” I am a little shocked. I thought there were some lines Charlie drew in the sand. Or maybe I was just untouchable to his tactics because I used to be Beckett’s best friend. Now I’m not.
He lets out a tired breath. “He’s my twin brother. I’d blackmail my own father if it meant making him happy.”
I snort. “As if you could blackmail your dad.” I can hear Uncle Connor replying to his son, that’s very ambitious to think you can blackmail me, and it’s also completely out of your capabilities.
Charlie says, “Which is probably for the best, since I wouldn’t want to have to try.”
It is kind of sweet what Charlie would do for Beckett. In this fucked up way. And I do care about Beckett, but for some reason, I can’t easily erase the hurt he caused. I remember a word.
Forgiveness.
Why is it so hard for me? I’m so quick to cut people out. With no look back.
That scares me.
It scares me even more to let Beckett back fully into my life. To know he could hurt me again. And his words have been scarred inside my heart.
The second you retire from swimming you’re all of a sudden drinking alcohol and passing out—at least I’m not pointlessly destroying my body.
He’s never criticized me as a way to deflect off himself before. He was purposefully cruel, and I’d never ever fucking attribute that word to Beckett Joyce Cobalt.
Cruel is so far from what and who he is.
Addiction.
It runs in my family, and I want to be empathetic towards Beckett and what he was going through back then, but I’m afraid.
Beckett and I have always built up each other’s confidence, and in that moment, I realized he was the one person that could tear me down to the ground. So even if I forgive him now, I’m giving him the ability to hurt me again.
“Sulli, this offer is going to expire and self-destruct in ten seconds,” Charlie says and looks to his watch, timing me. “Ten…nine…”
“Okay, okay,” I say quickly. “I’ll call him.”
“Right now,” Charlie states firmly.
I make a face. “Now?”
He lets out an irritated noise. “That’s what I said.”
“Can’t I have a couple days?”
“No.”
“One day?”
“We’re not bartering. You have no leverage in this transaction.” He takes a seat on an overturned canoe. “You now have five seconds.”
“Ugh,” I groan and pull out my cell phone. “If you weren’t family, my bodyguard would have you pinned on the ground right now.”
Charlie barely blinks. “The bodyguard who was too busy sucking your face to notice me? That one?”
Oh my fucking God!
I’ve lost the verbal tennis match that I didn’t even want to play.
Quickly, I squat to talk on my cell, but I also want to sink into the ground. Let me just become a puddle on this floor.