Page 23 of Piggy

Grayson

I swallow hard, and say it, because I mean it:

“I love you.”

Fuck .

It’s real now. The truth I’ve been unable to bear with her gone.

The words sit in the air like a goddamn grenade, and now everyone’s staring, including the one girl who should be running the other way.

“Louder!” her friend barks, holding Charlotte’s shoulders, giddy. “My girl didn’t hear you!”

Charlotte’s eyes narrow. Hands on her hips. A defiant little wrecking ball. “Yeah. What did you say?” But she bites her bottom lip, nervous.

I force myself to walk toward them, each step adding to my sense of doubt, like I’m stepping into a minefield .

Meghan’s claws dig into my arm. “Grayson, please,” she whispers. “You know this is a mistake. She’s too fragile for you.”

I glance over at Charlotte, the soaked girl in the smeared eyeliner and dress clinging to her curves. Her lip trembles, but that fire’s there. And it’s aimed right at me.

Meghan’s still right. This is wrong. I’ll hurt Charlotte. I should stay away. But God help me, she’s never looked so tempting to me.

“She’s not yours,” Meghan adds, her voice sharp. “She never was, cuz she doesn’t know you like I do.”

I tug Meghan’s grip off and step forward.

Charlotte flinches, just barely, and backs toward the door. And fuck, that stings. Like I’m poison and she finally figured it out.

“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “I’m not with Meghan.”

Her steps slow.

Good girl.

I close the space and take her cold little hands in mine. “Charlotte, I said I love you.”

She blinks.

“You did?” she whispers.

I nod, jaw tight. “I meant it, too.”

This is the part where I’m supposed to feel better. Confess and cleanse. But it just feels worse .

I lean in, voice low so only she can hear. “I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. Hoped you forgot me. Prayed you didn’t.”

She tries to pull her hands away.

Hell no. I hold on tighter. “I’m not a fairytale, okay? But I’m asking for a second chance, and this time, I won’t fuck it up.”

She pouts. “You left. For her.”

“I panicked. Besides, I left to save your life,” I growl. “Bobby was gonna use you against me. Meghan paid him off. That’s it. I stayed in Tampa, kept my head down, helped expand her empire. I’ve been... trying to forget you. I can’t.”

Her eyes soften. “I don’t believe you. You slept with these cam girls, huh?”

“Charlotte,” I say brusquely, clenching my teeth. Despite my simmering frustration, I look away as I mutter, “The last time we slept together had an effect on me.”

Keysha mutters something snarky, but I don’t care.

“Look, Charlotte, I love you, alright? That’s what matters,” I say gruffly.

She blushes beet red. “Um, and you didn’t sleep with Meghan, either?”

I shake my head.

Charlotte side-glances at Meghan, as if asking for confirmation. She says with skepticism in her tone: “You claimed Grayson hadn’t talked to you.”

Megan grumbles, “I was doing you a favor. ”

“See. I didn’t.” I take a deep breath. “And... I want another chance. I’m sorry.”

Keysha scoffs. “Please, Charlotte isn’t forgiving you that easy and—”

“Okay!” Charlotte blurts and dances in place. “I knew you loved me! I wasn’t crazy!” She leaps into my arms and instantly, my heart no longer aches.

Meghan hisses, “Grayson, you will regret this! You both will.”

Keysha shoves Meghan backward, hard. “Jesus better hold my halo if you don’t shut up.”

Her eyes darken as she snarls back, “No, bitch! You’re the one that better—”

“I’ll take them home,” I interrupt casually, intercepting the two women and grabbing my phone.

Meghan panics. “No, no, no. You’re fine here! Things are good. Stay!”

But I ignore her, corralling Charlotte and Keysha toward the elevator. As the doors close, Meghan calls out, “This isn’t over!”

That is a problem, but I can’t fix it right now. I just want to be with Charlotte again.

After dropping off Keysha, the car’s interior is dark with humid Florida air fogging the windows, and the quiet hum of the coastline roads.

Charlotte’s asleep, head lolled against the center console. Her cheek nestles the leather, and her fingers twitch slightly with her dreams. I study her in the orange glow of the passing streetlights, stroke a piece of her hair back, and wonder what the fuck I ever did to deserve a second chance.

Her eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy. “Will you come inside when we get to my place?” she whispers.

I snort, soft, but dark. Like she gets a say in that. “Yeah, baby. I’ll come inside.”

She smiles, hand reaching for my thigh, clumsy but full of devotion. That dumb, pure kind of trust that makes me ache.

And then, of course, the fucking song P*RNSTAR by Nessa Barrett has to come on.

I wanna watch you like a movie

I wanna put you on the stage

I wanna know what you’d do to me

I wanna put you on the tape

Charlotte frowns, and I know the question is coming before she says it.

“So... you really weren’t a pornstar this whole time?” she mumbles.

“Crew,” I correct, sharper now .

“Sure,” she mutters, like she doesn’t believe a word I say.

Without another word, I jerk the wheel and take a hard turn down a side road.

Cypress trees line the edges, dripping with moss, and the moonlight glistens off the still water of the marsh.

A few closed gas stations and bait shops pass by like ghosts.

I find a patch between streetlamps where the shadows are thick enough to disappear into.

She sits up fast. “What are you doing?”

I don’t answer. I just throw the car into park and open my door.

She’s still blinking when I rip open hers and snatch her wrist.

“Grayson—!”

I drag her out like she’s weightless, ignoring the clack of her heels against plastic, ignoring her startled gasp.