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Chapter 6

There are different ways in showing discomfort.

One would fidget with the hem of their shirt like it is the most interesting piece of wonder in the world. The other is when one would look around, avoiding eye contact with the person. Shifty eyes, if you must call it, or the wandering eye. The other is rocking the balls of their feet back and forth as though having trouble keeping still.

These were common reactions of being nervous. However, mine is sort of... weird.

Gross even.

As I gaze upon Dalton's handsome face, I had this sudden urge to go happy poo poo. I know, I know! Very weird, but the nervousness I'm feeling made me want to bolt right out of there and head straight for the bathroom.

Not an appropriate reaction, but this is me... dealing with such emotion.

As we stood silent, rooted to the ground, it amazes me that after four long years, I am still standing upright even though on the inside I am ready to crumble in front of him. Dalton was my strength, yet, at the same time, my weakness and this confrontation - which obviously I was not ready for - scares the life out of me.

Looking at his face, he tried so hard to keep it blank and impassive, but his eyes gave everything away. His spectacular green spheres were in an emotional catastrophe; he couldn't keep those emotions steady as they'd jump from one to the other, and in less than a minute, it zeroed on determination.

I don't know if that resolve was a good thing, and then, Dalton broke the awkward silence by asking, "Why?"

Of all things, he just had to choose that?!

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to look confused by his question. I could have tossed a dime at my feet for putting on an Oscar winning performance material, because from the looks of it, Dalton looked frustrated.

"Oh, you know what I mean, Charlie," he said, gritting his teeth. "Why did you leave without saying goodbye?"

Do I really have to answer that? Do I? Part of me wanted to tell the truth and confess my love for him, but the other part was telling me to be a b!tch and tell him to shove it up his butt.

But instead, I lied; and it was easier.

"Because I didn't know what to do," I said, looking straight at his now hard eyes. "I know we planned on staying here in Colorado for college, but when I got accepted in UCLA, it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up."

He laughed, void with humor that matched the hard glint in his eyes. "So leaving without saying anything was the right thing to do?" he asked and I nodded, and that intensified his humorless laughter.

"What do you take me for, Charlie? A heartless son of a b!tch?" he asked rhetorically, crossing his arms over his chest. "I could have understood if you would have told me, but you chose to be selfish. I thought that we're best friends?"

I closed my eyes shut, willing this conversation to be over. He should have not gone there, at all. "You wouldn't understand, Dalton and I'm sorry," I told him quietly. "It's too complicated."

'I can't believe he had to go there,' I thought and then, I opened my eyes to look at him again. "But best friends?" I asked, chuckling about the irony of it all. "That's funny. Ever since you started dating my sister, we rarely hung out, or better yet, ditched me when we planned on doing something, but no, you were too busy to hang out with me. Hell, you're always at my house but where were you half the time? Not with me, but with my sister, and hell! I felt like I was being ignored!" I roared the last part, not able to control myself anymore.

At this point, my breathing was ragged, my heart beat thumping widely out of my rib cage. Who the hell does he think he is, to tell me that I was the only one who had been in the wrong? I admit, leaving without saying anything was my fault, and I'd admit it without thinking twice, but he was no angel too, and most certainly not a saint.

Though it was understandable that nothing would be the same after I denied him, completely discarding me like trash was just taking the piss.

When he was about to say something, I continued on my rant, preventing him from saying any further. "Remember you promised to make it up to me by taking me out to see a movie?" I asked him, jogging his memory.

He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. "Yeah, I remember. What about it?" he asked me, very unsure, but his eyes looked wary.

I can't forget that day - not by a long shot. If I let him go, my heart crumbled into pieces, never to be put back again but that day when I went to his house to look for him had my whole being disintegrated into dust particles.

"When you didn't come over to my house at the expected time," I began and my heart clenched at the memory, "I went to your house to look for you. Your mom told me you were in your room, so when I was about to barge in there and screech your head off, I heard you moaning my sister's name and her, telling you to go harder. So yeah, you practically ditched me to go have wild sex with my sister," I said, smiling at him sardonically.

Dalton's expression became pained. I admit that seeing him like this had me smug, triumphant ever, but the other side of me that loved him had me feeling guilty, but it needed to be said, even though I was dodging from telling the truth.

Finally, he let out a shaky sigh and moved a bit closer to me. I wished he hadn't done that. I needed distance and close proximity didn't bode well especially for us.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," he apologized softly, his eyes staring intensely into my light blue ones and right now, it was making my knees go wobbly. Curses. "I really am sorry... it's just that Caroline is my girlfriend and I--"

"I was your best friend, Dalton," I interjected. "She may be your girlfriend, but that doesn't excuse you for forgetting about me."

He frowned. "Was?"

I nodded. "Yes, was."

He scowled. "I'm sorry, okay?" he apologized with aggravation leaking from it. "But please don't let this be the end of you and I... You're my best friend, Charlie." He closed the gap between us, his body heat seeping into my skin and gripped the sides of my arms tightly. "I love you too much to let go."

I wished that everything was different, that I could have said "I love you too" with the intention of being with him through and through. As I gazed upon his pleading eyes, Mike was right. Dalton's eyes held so much love in it and I didn't realize that a stray tear rolled down my cheek. So many questions flitted in my head, but only one became heavily prominent, highly pronounced.

If he still loves me, why is he marrying Caroline?

However, I'll never know.

Dalton captured my traitorous tears by swiping it with his thumb. He looked at me tenderly, like he used to when we were best friends. It felt nostalgic. "Charlie, I missed you so much," he murmured, gazing into my eyes as it held me captive. "Please, forgive me for I want to be part of your life again."

'Wow, funny that he has to ask that,' I thought sarcastically, but If I give in now, it is like moving two spaces backward. He didn't need to ask me such a thing, since he was going to be my brother-in-law soon, but I don't intend on sticking around, because after this wedding, I'm flying back to L.A., and I plan on staying there for as long as I live.

With that, I stepped backward and he frowned, looking hurt and disappointed. "I need to get back to my boyfriend," I muttered slowly. "He's waiting for me outside."

Dalton snorted and this had my eyebrows arched up. 'What the hell?' I thought in disbelief.

"Speaking of your boyfriend, that guy has a player written all over him," he said tersely.

I glowered at him. "Mike is not a player," I said, defending my fake boyfriend, though he is definitely right, but I wouldn't admit that to him. "He's a good guy and he's very sweet."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please," he said, "that's how everything starts: a tactic in getting into your pants. He will only hurt you in the end."

I glared at him. "He would never hurt me," I assured him. What crawled up in Dalton's pants?

He grimaced. "Oh yeah?" he asked.

I nodded."Yes," I said.

He scoffed. "Are you that trusting to your boyfriend, Charlotte?" he asked, glaring furiously at me. "He's just using you as his plaything and then discards you when he gets what he wants," and then, if it was possible, he looked at me rather condescendingly. "Are you that desperate as to want to be his flavor of whatever day, week or month?" he asked when he realized what he had just said, his eyes widened.

"Charlie... I ah... I didn't mean..." he stammered in a panic.

Wow, just wowzers. He sounded just like Caroline and I guess being with her had rubbed off on him.

I shook my head. "I can't believe you said that... of all people," I told him. "You sound just like my sister. What? Am I not good enough to be with anyone, is that what you mean? Only good for a little fun? Are you implying that I'm cheap? A whore?!" I asked angrily, my voice rising an octave.

I may not be innocent, and hell, I lost my virginity to a guy named Brent from the Engineering department in sophomore year in college. He was the only guy I slept with, a one time thing on some drunken episode. I didn't plan on dying as a virgin, but that didn't classify me as a slut.

I went on. "Mike would never treat me like that, because he respects me, and I am most certainly not desperate!"

Taking one step closer, I shoved his chest hard, making him stagger back. "You know me more than everyone else, Dalton. We've been friends for so long," I shoved him again. "He wanted to be with me because he likes me, not because I'm some booty call to sate his needs." With one last shove, he grabbed my hands quickly, holding it tight to his chest.

"I didn't mean it like that," he pleaded, still holding my hand in a steel-like grip. I honestly wished that he would just let me go and right now, from his touch alone, the tingles were starting to wreak havoc in my body and it wasn't helping the situation. "I'm sorry... it just slipped out."

Just as I was about to say something, a familiar voice that only belonged to my sister piped up, making me curse inwardly:

"What's going on here?" Caroline asked.

No response.

"What's going on?" she asked again and I glanced at her. She was frowning and looking straight at Dalton's chest - the one where he was holding my hand.

With great effort, I pulled my hand out and glared at her. "Why don't you ask your stupid fiancee?" I started hotly then spun on my heel, flung the door open and went out of the house.

"Charlie! Wait!" Dalton called out for me, but I ignored him.

I saw Mike standing on the walkway, a few meters away from the porch, his hands tucked in his pockets. When he saw me approaching like a raging bull on steroids, he frowned.

"Everything okay, Charlie bear?" he asked, worry tainted in his voice.

Before I could respond, a warm, large hand gripped my arm and roughly tugged me backwards. Jerking my arm back, I looked up to see a very frustrated Dalton.

"Charlie, will you listen to me for a dang moment?!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Mike went around me and came in between me and Dalton. "No need to get physical here."

Dalton glared at Mike and pushed him to the side. "This is none of your business, prick."

Resorting to name calling, are we now, Dalton?

Mike scoffed. "She's my girlfriend, so it's my business."

Dalton smirked like the devil and I didn't like the challenging look he gave off. "Oh yeah? It sure doesn't look like it."

Oh, crap. What now?

Mike is quick on the uptake and works fast. I didn't get the chance to react as he grabbed the back of my neck, pulled me closer to him and said, "How about this for proof" and crashed his lips on mine.

For the love of Hillary Duff...

Mike is kissing me, in front of Dalton. Mike is kissing me... did I say that Mike is kissing me? Oh, yeah. I did.

Michelangelo Lombardi is definitely kissing me!

His lips were soft, moist and god, it felt good on mine. This felt surreal, as though I was in the middle of reality and make believe and when his teeth nipped on my lower lip, the shock wore off and I parted my lips, wounding my arms around his neck and closed my eyes as his tongue darted in to mingle with my own.

Hot damn.

I had to admit, Mike was a good kisser and for some reason, he was kissing me passionately... one of those toe curling ones and to be honest, I liked it... way too much for my liking and yet, I still couldn't believe I was kissing the crap out of Mike.

After a few moments of heated wonder, he pulled back and leaned his forehead to mine, breathing heavily. I was lost for words and for the life of me, I couldn't say anything; I just grinned like a fool and I didn't know why. Was this me enjoying my moment of weakness or the fact that I I just kissed my best friend and I liked it...?

I couldn't decide; my brain was too muddled so for now, I'll put this on the back burner and live for the moment.

As Mike turned his head to look at Dalton, I was surprised he didn't look cocky or, well, smug in the least. He represented himself as a man who had proven his point and said, "Was that proof enough that Charlie is my woman, buddy boy?"

When I took a peak at Dalton, he looked beyond pissed. His whole demeanor screamed 'I'm going to kick the living daylights out of you' but I could tell he was restraining himself, judging from his offensive stance and the way his fist clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"Yes," Dalton ground out, gritting his teeth and without another word, he spun on his heel and went back inside the house.

The moment the front door was closed shut, I turned to look at Mike and smiled awkwardly. "Well," I started as he looked a bit sheepish at me. "That was something."

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