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“I can teach you.”
She shook her head and stepped out of the car. “No, thanks. I’ll find something else.”
That’s when I noticed black numbers written on her cast that weren’t there earlier today. “What’s that?”
“My cast?”
“No. The numbers on your cast.”
“Oh. Gabe wrote his number on it. After I saw you in the cafeteria. He said he would show me around Staten Island. You know, since I’m new here.”
Fucking Gabe. Heat spread throughout my chest. I didn’t want her spending time with that guy. I didn’t want his hands on her. “Have fun with that creep.”
“Creep? Just yesterday you said he was a nice guy.”
“He just got dumped by his girlfriend not too long ago, so he’s on the rebound and looking to get laid. I’m just saying, I’d be careful if I were you.”
“Every guy is looking to get laid. I’m sure you’re no different.”
“I don’t have to look to get laid.”
Her face twisted in disgust. “Thanks for the test drive.” She swung the passenger door shut and walked away.
I shouldn’t have said that about Gabe. I didn’t have any right to feel this way about someone who isn’t mine. Still, I wanted to show her that I was different. I wanted to show her—to show myself—that I could be the man she deserved.
But I knew better. I’m not worthy of someone like Charlotte. I can’t have her. I had to let her go. So, I watched her ass move in her denim shorts as she walked away from me.
Charlotte
I gripped my can of pepper spray in my hand and stiffened every time I heard a car drive past on my daily walk home from school. I had applied for a gun permit my first week in New York. Once I received it, my cast would be off and I would be purchasing a gun. The night John and Tommy came to the bakery, I hadn’t been prepared. I was defenseless. I swore I would never feel like that again. If Tommy ever found where I was hiding, I’d be ready.
Ever since we’d left Florida, I’d been suffering with what could only be described as panic attacks. At least, that’s what Google told me when I researched my symptoms. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Something would trigger a memory and I was instantly back in that bakery, filled with fear. Most of the time, I was able to control the episodes. Other times, I was forced onto the floor gasping for air while I cried.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I approached my apartment complex. Tucking my pepper spray back into my purse, I trudged up five flights of stairs. Though the stairwell was poorly lit, I preferred it to the rickety elevator. Before, I’d never had an issue with confined spaces. Now, I avoided anything that made me feel trapped.
I made a beeline for the shower after locking the front door behind me. Tanner’s comment regarding Gabe echoed in my mind. Had Gabe asked me out for sex, or was Tanner lying? Why would Tanner feel the need to lie about something like that? I didn’t know what to believe. If Gabe was trouble, Mallory would’ve told me. Instead, she warned me about Tanner.
Yet, Tanner was the one who’d lent me his shirt, and offered to take the time to teach me how to drive a stick shift. Neither of those gestures seemed to fit with the information I’d heard about him. What was his deal? I wanted to know more.
Curiosity killed the cat, Charlotte. I towel-dried my hair and plopped onto my bed. If I wanted to create a new life here, I needed to play it safe. Tanner was not safe.
I took out my phone and dialed the numbers inked across my cast.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Gabe. It’s Charlotte.”
“Hey! Glad you called. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call.”
“Nope. I was looking at a car that I wanted to buy.”
“Did you buy it?”
“No. I don’t know how to drive stick.”
“I don’t know how, either. I’m sure you’ll find something else,” he said. “So … do you wanna hang out?”
“Sure.”
