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My gaze dropped to her hands, clutchinga plate with one chocolate cupcake and a single burningcandle.
“Since the birthday cake atthe party wasn’t real,” she said, twisting the ball of her footnervously on the floor.
I ran a hand through myhair and made my way toward her across the room. “Didyou—”
“No, no way.” She shook herhead firmly. “I asked room service for it. I hope that doesn’tspoil the spirit in which it was intended.”
“Of course not.” I put myhand out to regain my balance with the back of one of the barchairs at the island.
“I figured the party lastnight was kind of—”
“Hectic?” Isuggested.
“Fake.” The word wasshockingly blunt, coming from someone holding a birthdaycake.
“Okay,thatmight spoil the spirit in which this was intended,” I saidslowly, gripping the next chair to limp the rest of the way toher.
She slid the cake onto theisland and sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to lie to you.Those people weren’t your friends. They were groupies, and you knowit.”
“I do.” No sense in arguingabout something that was so obvious. But what had changed betweenlast night and now? “I thought you enjoyed yourself.”
“I did!” she hurried toreassure me. “And it was fun, and it was a once-in-a-lifetimeexperience that I’m happy to have had. And to have had with you. Itwas a fantasy come true, like you said.”
“But,” I provided for her,dreading what might come next.
“I’m not fake,” she saidquietly. “I mean, I don’t want to keep being fake.”
My heart leapt at thewords. This was the woman I’d been warned about falling for. Thewoman who left a trail of broken hearts in her wake, if Scott couldbe believed.
Was she asking me for more?For what I’d come to want, desperately?
“Go on,” I said, my voice adry rasp.
“I think…” She closed hereyes, like looking at me would make whatever she wanted to sayimpossible. “Tonight is my last night here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
(Charlotte)
Matt looked like I’d shothim. Not simply said I was going to go home.
What do youmean?”
“I mean…” My eyes flickedto the candle dripping wax onto the frosting. “You should blow thatout and make a wish, before it ruins the whole cake.”
My dodge annoyed him; Icould tell by the wrinkle of his brow as he took the plate from meand unceremoniously blew out the candle. “I wish you would tell mewhat you mean and stop dancing around it. That’s mywish.”
“I told you what I mean. Ithink I should leave, before things get weird between us.” I pickedat my fingernails absently, but didn’t—maybe couldn’t—say anythingelse.
He blew out a long breath.When he spoke again, there was no anger or disappointment in hisvoice. I appreciated that; it would have been unfair of him to poutover my leaving. “You can go any time you want to. I can have itall arranged; you could go within an hour.”
“That’s not—”
“Did something happen?” heasked. “At the party last night, did I do something?”
“No! Theparty was so much fun. Until we came back here and…”Until we came back here and I realized I mightnot be able to keep this up without ruining everything.But I couldn’t say that. I’d stayed awake forhours after we’d come back, holding him, running my fingers throughhis hair, soaking up every minute I could because I knew they wouldbe our last. And in that time, I’d tried to find a way to breakthings off without admitting I was running away.
But I had to go. And there was no wayto make him understand why. They never understood why.