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CHARLOTTE

Spring Break - Five Months Later

Eleven football players belting boozy karaoke is definitely better than one.

The entire offensive line from Crystal Bay University occupies the spacious stage of the Miami bar. Their screeching voices are drowned out by the crowd singing along from the dance floor, myself included. Because let’s be honest, anyone who doesn’t know the words to Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” is a walking red flag.

And I like to keep mine safely out of sight.

The place is packed, which is no surprise considering spring break is the busiest— craziest —time of the year. When we arrived, the line was down the street, and I was skeptical they’d let us all in. Then Theo Schroeder—running back, pretty boy, self-proclaimed sex god, and for lack of better judgment, my friend—made a call. Two minutes later, the velvet rope dropped and we made our way inside.

It’s notably nicer than our shitty, sticky bars at home. There’s a private lounge where we spent most of the night before karaoke started, a huge dance floor with strobe lights, and a long bar along the wall. My throat is dry, and I make my way over to grab another drink.

“Merlot,” I tell the bartender after settling on a bar stool. A quick show of my fake ID, and thirty seconds later, I’m taking my first sip.

The bridge of the song begins, pulling my attention back to the stage to see all the guys drop to a knee, holding an invisible ring box up at Noah Caruso, their team captain and CBU’s star quarterback. I can’t help the laugh bubbling out of me at the sight of him throwing a hand across his chest, playing along with the “proposal.” He is never living this down. I’ll make sure of it.

A buzzing in my lap pulls my attention to a new notification.

Jonathan

Still at Ken’s Karaoke?

Me

Yeah, thinking of giving my rendition of “My Heart Will Go On”

Jonathan

You’ll put Celine to shame

Me

Word on the street is she’s already looking for a new career path

You sure you won’t make it out tonight?

Jonathan

Yeah, I gotta study for this test

I groan down at my phone. The university my boyfriend goes to already had their spring break, so we couldn’t spend it together. Fortunately, my friends wanted to party like it’s Coachella within a thirty-minute drive from his apartment, so I’ve seen him a few times.

Me

Okay :(

See you tomorrow for brunch?

Jonathan

Definitely

Me

Love you

Jonathan

Love you too

“No vodka tonight?” Noah asks, pulling my gaze from the phone to his piercing green eyes.

“Never. Again.” I glare, and he laughs. After the Halloween shit show, I swore off the clear poison for life. A not-so-fun fact Noah is well aware of considering that poison is the reason we became friends. And when Noah Caruso adds you to his roster, you’re set. He’s the guy you can call for anything. At any time of day.

Not that I ever have.

Asking Noah for help would only perpetuate my boyfriend’s unnecessary insecurities, which is why we mainly interact during group activities like parties, games, and events.

Jonathan almost spontaneously combusted when he heard Noah would be on my spring break trip, but our relationship is built on trust, so he agreed I could go.

“Enjoy our performance?” Noah asks.

“I definitely didn’t have CBU Offensive Line Eras Tour on my spring break bingo card, that’s for sure.”

He grins ear to ear. “It was good, right?”

“As if you need your ego stroked,” I toss back with raised brows.

“Come on,” he presses, placing his arm loosely on the back of my bar stool. He’s not remotely close to making contact with my skin, yet it tingles with awareness. “Admit you enjoyed it.”

“Fine.” I smile sweetly, shifting in place. “It was almost as good as Elijah’s serenade to Sophia.” He gave a very drunk, adorable, actually impressive rendition of “Your Man” by Josh Turner, and they disappeared immediately after.

I love the stability of a long-term relationship but can’t deny there are times I envy their obsession. Their need for each other no matter where and when.

The most spontaneous Jonathan and I get is when we have sex before date night instead of after.

“Almost?” Noah places his free hand on his chest. “Our choreographed routine totally topped Elijah’s solo.” Another song begins, and he bends to my ear so our conversation doesn’t get lost in the loudness of the room. “Admit it, Charlotte.”

Charlotte.

No one calls me Charlotte. Not even my parents. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been Charlie Benson. My mom even wrote it that way on paperwork, which is why when I was fourteen, I ended up in the boys’ cabins at summer camp. They were thrilled, but unfortunately for them, it was short-lived when the cabin counselor walked in and asked why the hell I was there.

“Whatever, Noah Gabriel ,” I counter, sipping my wine, the liquid calming my nerves.

What’s with the nerves?

“How’d Nash’s Taekwondo competition go last weekend?” he asks, referring to my six-year-old brother.

“It went well,” I say, beaming. “He got a participation trophy and everything.”

“That’s great.” Noah lets out a warm laugh. “And Denny’s gymnastics meet?” he asks, now referring to my other sibling, and Nash’s twin sister.

Damn, does this man pay attention.

“She did good,” I tell him. “Got first in beam for her age group.”

“That’s awesome!” Noah says, removing his arm from my chair to signal the bartender. Finally, I can breathe again.

“Yeah, she loves it,” I say. “And I’m glad comps keep them busy.”

Keeps them distracted is what I don’t say.

“Well, at least you’ll see them this weekend,” Noah reminds me, and my mood instantly brightens.

“I can’t wait. We’re gon?—”

“Excuse me,” a feminine voice interrupts on the opposite side of Noah.

He turns, and a redhead who looks like she walked off a Miami Swim Week runway comes into view. “Yes?” Noah replies.

“Are you Noah Caruso?” she asks.

A smug smile graces his lips. “I am.”

Welp. His ego’s officially been stroked.

“Can I buy you a drink?” she offers with a lazy smile, and my lips roll together.

“I appreciate the offer,” Noah says. “But no thanks.”

My eyes bolt to my hairline, and I force them down.

“No?” she repeats, her smile faltering. Fortunately for her, I’m wingwoman of the week.

“He’s kidding!” I tell her, side-eying Noah while leaning on the bar for a better line of sight. “Playing hard to get.” I throw a thumb his way. “You know how these cocky little athletes are.”

Noah grips the back off my chair, spinning me toward him, and my stomach drops as our eyes meet. “Little?” he scoffs, fighting a smile. Breathe, girl!

“Don’t get your jock strap in a twist,” I choke out, waving him off, returning my attention to the redhead. “He’d love one.”

“Thank god.” She places a hand on her chest. Her very large, very voluptuous chest. “I’d be mortified telling my friends the hottest guy here turned down a free drink from me.”

“Come on,” Theo says, butting in and throwing an arm around Noah. “He’s clearly in second place.”

Time to make my exit.

I hop off the bar stool, my body gliding past Noah’s to leave.

“Where are you going?” he asks, and our eyes meet. His expression is unreadable. My stomach burns. Maybe I shouldn’t have drank that last merlot.

“Don’t want to be a cockblock,” I say with a wink and half-hearted smile, then slip away, his gaze searing my back my entire walk to the lounge.

I spot Sophia and Elijah, along with Sage, another close friend of mine, and her “friend” Julian. I consider joining them but don’t want to be a fifth wheel. I also don’t want to kill their fun. Every time I hang out with Sophia, it feels off. Which I guess is my fault, considering what happened with her ex-boyfriend, Seth. Part of me does wonder how a good guy like Jonathan could even remotely sympathize with that dirtbag.

I swallow down the unwanted memories. Any desire I had to party has fluttered away like a dandelion in the wind.

“Hey!” There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to find Jonathan’s roommate, Eric. He scoops me up in a hug, and I feel tiny in his strong linebacker arms. “Thought you left already.”

“Tomorrow,” I say, pulling away.

“Having fun tonight?”

“Yeah.” I force a smile, the truth on the tip of my tongue.

“Bullshit,” he says, digging in his pocket and pulling out his room key. Apparently, my frustration is obvious. “Why don’t you go surprise Jonathan?”

“You don’t think he’ll mind?” I ask, hopeful.

“Nah,” he says, winking. “I think he might have been expecting you anyways. He had his date night playlist on when I left.”

“Okay,” I say, adrenaline rushing through me.

See? I can do spontaneous.

He places the key in my hand. “Have Jon text me when it’s safe to return.”

“Will do.” I wave. “See you later.”

“There you are!” Sophia says, her cheeks flushed as she stumbles into me for a hug, her blonde hair surrounding me.

“Hey.” I give her a squeeze, forcing down the pang of guilt for what I’m about to say. “I’m heading out.”

“What?” She pulls back. “Why? We can go dance.” Her expression turns apologetic as she looks at Elijah, then back to me. “I’m sorry I?—”

“No.” I shake my head, smiling. “It’s not you. I miss Jonathan. Gonna go see him.”

Her positive expression falls. “Char.”

“Please, save the lecture,” I beg, knowing how much she and Sage—and the rest of our friends, for that matter—can’t stand Jonathan. Which is probably the real reason he’s not here, since they make him feel so unwelcome.

I’ll talk to them about it tomorrow.

“I’m not lecturing,” she protests. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “But I’m going.”

“Fine.” She presses her lips together. “But be careful, okay?”

“You too.” I give her a hug, wave at the others, and make my way out of the club.

Forty minutes and an outrageously expensive Uber later, I’m entering the lobby of Jonathan’s apartment building, a Chinese takeout bag swinging from my fingertips. The elevator carries me to the fourth floor, and I bounce anxiously on my heels. A ding paired with the opening whoosh of the doors, and I’m striding down the empty hallway, mouth watering from the orange chicken aroma. I reach Jonathan’s apartment, quietly unlock the door, and make my way inside. It clicks shut, and as I set Eric’s key on the kitchen counter, a strangled groan fills my ears.

What the…?

Another breathless whine that definitely doesn’t belong to Jonathan reverberates throughout the apartment, and my stomach rolls as my legs propel me towards the sound. As I stop outside his bedroom door, the repetitive creaking of furniture has me second-guessing everything.

“Jonathan!” the feminine voice shrieks.

Please be porn. Please be very specific, AI-generated, loud-as-hell porn. Holding my breath, I nudge open the door.

The dim bedside lamp illuminates a naked girl as she’s pounded doggy style by the love of my life. I attempt to speak, but no words come out. My brain can’t comprehend the scene before me, let alone my mouth.

“Damn, Kendra,” Jonathan mutters, and the words lace the air like poison, seeping into my pores. “You’re so tight tonight.” A loud slap rings through the room, and she whimpers from his spank. “So good for me, baby.”

“What the fuck?” The only three words that leave my shocked mouth as my heart shrivels up like a raisin.

Their heads snap toward me, and Jonathan’s eyes go wide. “Charlie.”

He pulls out, shoves her to the side, and hops off the bed, his erection swinging through the air like a pool noodle. Societal conventions suggest I should shield my eyes, but why? I’ve seen him like this hundreds of times. Including last night, when he left me drained and unsatisfied.

Kendra scrambles and slips under the blanket, not saying a word. I swear she’s fucking smirking, but I choose to ignore it.

My eyes ping-pong between them as my brain fights to catch up.

“Charlie, I—we didn’t…” Jonathan stammers while having the sense to pull sweatpants on. “It’s not wh?—”

“If ‘it’s not what it looks like’ comes out of your mouth, I will cut your dick off and feed it to you,” I snap. He reaches toward me, and I slap his hand away, stepping backward.

His eyes wander over me, expression relaxing, a lazy smile spreading across his face. The sight of it causes a nauseating feeling I haven’t experienced since Halloween. “I knew you’d show up.” He glances at Kendra, and her entire demeanor shifts to mirror his. “We were waiting for you.”

“Yeah,” she says coyly. “Jonathan thought you might want to experience something different to spice up your vanilla sex life.” I shake off the sting of her labeling our sex life after a dessert flavor. Although she’s not entirely wrong. She sits up, pushing her tits out, attempting seduction, and I surprise the three of us when I throw my head back, laughing.

“Really?” I ask, seething at Jonathan. “ That’s the best you could come up with? That you planned a threeway on the off chance I showed up tonight? Get the hell out.” I pause. “Actually”—I spin around—“how about I get the hell out?”

He grabs my wrist, and I glance at it, then back to his now hardened eyes. “Please, wait.”

“For what? The encore? I’m not going to sit here while you fuck this blonde bitch into next week!” I scream at him.

“Excuse me?” the bitch has the nerve to say.

“You shut the hell up!” I shout, pointing at her, unsure where my brass balls came from. “It’s obvious you know who I am, otherwise you’d be having a very different reaction to me walking in on you two fucking, so why don’t we cut the shit.”

“Charlie,” Jonathan snaps, and my eyes flick back to him.

“How long have you been screwing behind my back?” I fold my arms over my chest, feigning confidence.

“Char—”

“How. Fucking. Long?” I ask, snubbing another bullshit excuse.

His silence tells me all I need to know, and my eyes glide back to the bitch on the bed. “How long, Kendra? How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?”

“Sweetie, he hasn’t been your boyfriend for months.” A sardonic smile creeps on her face, worsening my nausea.

“Kendra,” Jonathan snaps.

I didn’t think it was possible to get angrier once your blood hits boiling, but I’ve hit molten. My face is on fire, and I blink hard as tears threaten to pour out.

Don’t let them see you cry.

Rage surges through me, and my hand takes on a mind of its own, swinging the takeout bag through the air, hitting Jonathan repeatedly. “I can’t believe you!”

Crushing plastic squeaks and cracks. “Stop!” he pleads as fried rice and orange sauce fly across his room.

“You’re insane,” Kendra shrieks, an egg roll nailing her in the face.

One point, Benson.

“Fuck!” Whack. “You!” Whack.

The sack bursts, scattering sticky bits of food over every surface of his room. The ripped plastic floats towards the floor as I make my escape.

“You’re blaming me like this is all my fault,” he calls out, quick on my heels.

Spinning around, I throw a hand over my heart oozing so much blood it’s definitely dripping onto the floor. “Are you suggesting I positioned your dick in front of her pussy?”

“No.” He narrows his eyes at me, and if I weren’t so devastated, I’d laugh at the sight of egg roll guts stuck all over his hairy chest. Point two for Benson. “But did you honestly think we were going to work living so far apart? You chose to go to CBU instead of here.”

“Because CBU’s closer to the twins!” I say, exasperated. “And I try to see you as often as possible.”

“Yeah, which is few and far between,” he snaps. “And you rarely want to have sex.” Because you never like anything I do. Last night included. “A man has needs.” My teeth grind, jaw aching. “Not to mention you sure as hell never finished me off without explicit directions.”

My open palm flies through the air, delivering a stinging slap to his cheek. “Four years. Four. Fucking. Years,” I spit out through tears, unable to contain them any longer. “And this is how you treat me? You could’ve at least waited twenty-four hours before fucking someone else. If you gave me an STD, I swear to?—”

“We’re both clear,” Jonathan says, as if that should make everything better. As if I should be totally chill with the fact he rawdogged me, then fucked his mistress immediately after.

“If you were so unhappy, why didn’t you break up with me?”

He shifts on his heels. “I honestly thought you’d have done it by now.”

“Oh, so you’re a coward?” He doesn’t speak, jaw tight. “Well, you’ve got your wish. We’re done.”

“Charlie, wai?—”

I rush out the door and pull it shut behind me with a rattle. After sprinting to the elevator, I smash my finger on the down button, praying he doesn’t come after me. Hours pass, realistically seconds, but it’s too damn long. He’s not coming after me? My eyes find the door to the stairwell, and I bolt, running down them like I’ve robbed a New York City penthouse. When I finally make it to the lobby, I’m winded and my veins are overflowing with anger.

How could he do this?

My hands shake as my eyes blur with tears. Four years of my life I’ve given to him, and this is how he repays me?

My heart aches, the memories of our shared past hitting me like a grenade all at once.

“I love you, Charlie. Forever,” he told me for the first time while we were tangled up in the sheets our sophomore year.

“After I go pro, I’m wifing you up,” he said, spinning me in circles on the Longwood High School football field after he’d thrown a game-winning touchdown.

“You’ll always have a place here,” he told me after my grandmother died. I needed an escape from my home life, and he would whisk me away, keeping me distracted with his smile and pretty words. He was thoughtful and kind and gentle, and god, was it easy to fall in love with him.

What the hell happened?

Stepping outside his building, I’m slammed by a wall of humidity, snapping me back to reality.

For months he cheated on me, and I had no clue? Am I really so dumb I didn’t see any signs?

Guess Sophia was right.

“Maybe you should stop making excuses for him and realize he might actually be the goddamn villain, Char.”

Well, fuck me for not believing her.

Jonathan’s words about our sex life echo in my mind : “You sure as hell never finished me off without explicit directions.”

We may not have had the best sex, but was it really all me? I think back to last night and his words to me after another shitty lay. “It’s okay, babe. I’ll help fix you.”

I guess I’m still broken.

A rumble surrounds me, vibrating to my bones, and I glance up, small rain droplets hitting my face already damp with tears.

Then the sky splits open, and we cry together.