The Man I Thought I Trusted - E. L. Todd Page 0,47

I think he and Denise will probably get serious, so he won’t have all the time to spend with me like he used to.”

“Yeah.”

“And we’re going to have so much fun living together that he probably won’t be on my mind much.”

I smiled. “I’ll make sure no one else is on your mind but me.”

“Ooh…that sounds nice.”

“I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured—”

“I don’t,” she said quickly. “If I did, trust me, I would tell you.”

That was one of the best things about her, that she would speak her mind so there was never any misunderstanding. Her bluntness wasn’t exactly always polite, but it made my life much easier. “Good. Because I can’t wait until you get your ass over to my place.”

She smiled slightly. “I hope I don’t turn into some stuck-up, rich bitch…”

“Never.” She would never let her surroundings go to her head. She was too down-to-earth for that. “I can always help you move if you want.”

“It’s really not that much stuff, but I probably will need to borrow a truck or rent a moving van.”

“The van sounds good. I can drive it for you if you want.”

“That would be nice, since my driver’s license expired and Charlie doesn’t have one.”

“Consider it done.” If my friends knew I was driving a moving van around instead of hiring someone to do it, they would talk so much shit. “So, how about next Saturday?”

She considered it for a while before she nodded. “Sure. Saturday.”

I’d finally gotten her on my line and reeled her in.

“I’ll have everyone over, and we’ll make a thing of it.”

“Great. I’d like them to see my place since they’re going to be over all the time,” I said.

“I don’t know about all the time…”

“Knowing you, yes, it’ll be often. And I don’t mind. Your friends feel like my friends at this point.”

“That’s sweet.” Her arm hooked around my neck, and she fingered my hair as she gave me a kiss. “Maybe I should try to be friendlier with your sister.”

“Eh. You don’t have to do that.”

“You guys seem close.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be. And I know your initial meeting wasn’t all that great.”

Her forehead rested against mine. “I don’t hold grudges, so I don’t think about that. She’s your only surviving family member. It would be nice if we could be friends. You know, get our nails done, whatever girls do.”

“You don’t get your nails done.”

She held out her hand and looked at her fingertips. “That’s because I’m typing all the time, and they chip and stuff. I guess we can just drink together. That’s something everyone can do.”

I chuckled. “True.”

A sad look suddenly came on to her face, like she was thinking of something particularly heartbreaking.

I suspected I knew what it was. “She’ll come around. Give it time.”

“Yeah…”

“And if she doesn’t, it’s her problem and not yours. I think she totally overreacted, and she needs to mature and grow up.”

“That’s a little harsh,” she whispered.

“Or maybe someone needs to be straight with her.”

“It’s hard to be straight with someone when they’re heartbroken.”

“She shouldn’t be heartbroken. They’ve been broken up for almost a year.” Maybe I was being harsh, but it was only because I was biased toward Carson. She was the most amazing woman I’d ever met, and anyone who took her for granted was practically an enemy. “I’m just saying, if she’s smart, she’ll come around. And if not…that’s not your problem.”

18

Carson

Charlie didn’t come home that night.

During the week, he always made dinner. The only exception to that was Wednesday night, when we got pizza and wings after the game. Instead of waiting for him to come home, I prepared dinner for two and made him a plate so he would have it when he returned.

But the hours passed, and he never showed.

I texted him. Hey, you alright?

No response.

Charlie? I never checked in with him because he was a grown-ass man, but his behavior was peculiar. If he was out late on assignment, he usually told me where he was in case everything went south. He hadn’t checked in. If he had a date, he usually shared that information with me so I wouldn’t worry where he was all night.

Still nothing.

I’m starting to worry. Just let me know you’re okay.

Thirty minutes went by and still no response.

Was I just being paranoid? What if there was really something wrong? It was past nine, and I wouldn’t be able to sleep unless I knew he was okay. I decided to call.

It