"Everything's fine, we're talking." I say when Charlie's eyes widen, her fear for her brother finding out she slept with his best friend flitting across her face.
A fear I know all too well.
"Your interrupting girl time, Asher, piss off." Charlotte says, taking the phone from me and putting it on speaker.
"You're interrupting my call with my girlfriend."
'Girlfriend' Charlotte mouths the word, looking at me with a raised brow but I can only feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks.
She focuses back on the phone. "She was my friend first, so no matter what, you will always be second best to me."
"Charlotte-"
"Cool it, Cowboy." Charlotte interrupts, "She'll call you later."
She hangs up the phone and throws it backwards on my bed. "You're his girlfriend now?"
"Apparently."
"He didn't ask you,neanderthal." She rolls her eyes. "God, boys are stupid." She moves to settle under my sheets but pauses."There aren't . . . juices here are there?" Her nose wrinkles, lip turning up.
I shaker my head, "He stayed over last night but all we did was sleep."
"Good," she continues to tuck herself into my bed and pats the spot beside her, "Now catch me up on everything, except the juicy details and by the way I will hate you forever for taking that best friend right away from me."
I settle in beside her but give her a look. Her face falls.
"I was hoping you'd let me brush it all under the rug and forget it all ever happened."
"Honesty remember?" She doesn't reply for a second. "You gave your virginity to my brother?" I ask, pulling the conversation back to what we were speaking about before Asher called.
She drops her head in her hands, looking defeated. "It was a mistake. I woke up in the morning and he was just . . . gone."
If I could yell at Leon about that, I would. But I can't so I settle for calling him a rake under my breath.
Charlie smiles slightly but it's small, lost.
"I'm sorry he's such a player," I mutter automatically. "He has a tendency to invite girls over and then tell them it won't happen again the next morning." I roll my eyes, having heard the rumours and the morning after talk one too many times.
Charlotte stills.
Then she lifts her head slowly.
"He's not the one who said it wouldn't happen again." I blink. "I was."
That catches me off guard.
"You-"
"It was a mistake," she repeats. "One I won't be repeating."
"Did you . . . want it to?" I cringe slightly.
She shakes her head, no hesitation. "No."
There's something final in the way she says it. Not embarrassed. Not flustered.
Resolved.
