Sexy Stranger(31)

"People tell us plenty." Case shrugged. "Just depends if we care to listen."

"Did you see this one?" Ranger asked Case.

He bit his knuckle and nodded. "She's pretty. Real nice figure. Would've pegged her for Duke's type if I hadn't heard about the whole salon debacle."

"Something happened at the salon?" I raised my eyebrows, trying to act nonchalant but curious anyway, and also oddly irritated by Case's notice of Charlotte's figure. He wasn't blind, after all, and she did have a banging body, but still.

"Yep, heard it from Audrey. Mrs. French always gets her nails done on Mondays, but apparently Charlotte walked in and took her spot. Got her hair done too in some fancy blowout, whatever the hell that means."

"I don't know how any of that has anything to do with me," I shot back.

"A girl whose first goal in town is to get her nails and hair done? Big-city type with some designer handbag? Doesn't ring a bell?" Ranger raised his eyebrows and my stomach twisted.

"Look, if you're talking about Sarah-"

Case grimaced. "God, I hope nobody is. I'm trying to have a beer and enjoy my night. No need to relive that nightmare."

"She wasn't that bad," I argued, although I inwardly cringed at the memory. 

It was true, Sarah had stuck out around Shady Grove about as much as . . . well, about as much as Charlotte did. But there were differences between the two. Sarah would never have gone to the game with me tonight, and she sure as shit would have minded if I'd wanted to hang out with the guys instead of spending time with her. And she never would have eaten a concession-stand pretzel.

Still, that was the girl I'd thought I wanted to marry. I'd had the ring and everything. In fact, I still had it, tucked away in a drawer along with the note she'd left behind.

But Charlotte wasn't Sarah. This was a totally different situation and would have a totally different outcome.

I raised a hand to put an end to the debate. "I'm with Case on this one. Why don't we just have some beers and cool it with all the girl talk? That was a hell of a game tonight, after all."

Lucky for me, the guys sensed I'd had enough, and turned the subject to tonight's game. They dissected each of the plays and went over the stats of the star athletes for each team. The Stallions, we all agreed, would do better next week.

Although I tried to immerse myself in the stats and reasoning for every play, I still found myself thinking of Charlotte, and about how I would feel when, two days from now, she climbed into her car and got back to her life. I wanted her to remember me, even if we couldn't be together. To take a piece of me with her when she went.

If I were being honest, I wanted her to leave a piece of herself behind too. Something for me to remember and hold on to when I thought about what could have been between us.

You know . . . if we weren't totally wrong for each other.





Chapter Fourteen


Charlotte

Luke didn't wake me on Saturday morning, and neither did the bright, glittery sunshine that poured through the windows of his bedroom. Instead, the phone that I had fallen asleep beside buzzed so close to my face that I shot bolt upright, my heart racing as I frantically glanced around.

I clutched my chest, then let out a deep breath and grabbed for the damned thing, checking to make sure I hadn't disturbed Luke. But no, he slept on like a log, snoring gently with his mouth halfway open.

I reached toward him, tempted to brush back a tuft of his mussed hair, but then my phone buzzed again and he shifted, swatting it away from him as he snuggled deeper into the sheets.

Reaching quickly, I grabbed the phone just before it tipped over the edge of the bed, then glanced down at the flashing screen. I had so many missed calls and follow-up voice mails that a knot formed in my stomach at the sheer number alone.

Breathing deeply through my nose, I eased from the bed and tiptoed out of the room, careful to close the door quietly behind me before edging my way into the kitchen and opening the dreaded screen.

Okay, all I had to do was look at the last five calls. That was it. If I wanted to listen to them, I would. If not? They could wait for another day.

With another deep breath, I sucked in my cheeks and scanned the list of names.

Mom.

Dad.

Valentina.

A number I didn't recognize.

Prescott.

I did a double-take at the last name, hating the little heart emoji that still lingered beside his name in my contact list, and deleted the message without listening. Okay, that was one decision down. All I had to do now was decide on the rest.

Better to start soft, right? Crawl before you run?

I tapped Valentina's name and held the phone to my ear.

"Charlotte, hey. Just calling to see what the deal is with the car and the town and everything. I hope you're on the road. Can't wait to see you!" She made a happy little screeching noise, and then the message clicked off.