Unintended Consequences

Chapter 23 - Archer's POV

Author's Note: I have gone back and edited the first 20 chapters to fix errors that had consistently popped up in my writing. The plot hasn't changed! Just the flow. I also cleaned up the timeline of the last few chapters to stay on track with American Thanksgiving. So the football game/dinner happened on Wednesday, and Charlotte told Oliver that they were driving home Thursday morning. Other than that nothing has changed!

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    "It's too fucking early," I grumbled as I shoved my face further into my pillow. The large, red, glaring numbers on my alarm clock read 6:15 a.m. I was about to say fuck it and go back to sleep when Charlotte's oversized doe-eyes popped into my mind. She was the one who wanted to get home as soon as possible.

    If it were up to me, I'd roll up to my parent's house in time to eat dinner and drive right back to school. But Charlotte said that the day leading up to Thanksgiving dinner was just as important. Who am I to argue with her? So now I'm getting my ass out of bed at the crack of dawn to get her home as quickly as I can.

    The events of last night rushed back to me as I stepped under the hot spray of my shower. Fuck, I really messed up. I can't deny that I had been living in a fantasy where I had some kind of claim over Charlotte. But last night, I let it get out of control. The warmth of her thigh under my hand had overtaken my senses—and my logic. Her soft curves fit in my hand perfectly, and it sent my mind into a spiral. I wanted to explore every inch of her body. It took all of my self-control not to pounce on her right there in the restaurant.

    I'd been so worked up, I had even convinced myself that whatever was happening was mutual. That maybe she was just as turned on as I was. But then the fear in her eyes was like a punch to my gut. I'd made her uncomfortable. Of course, I fucking had. Charlotte was good and pure and innocent. Even if she were attracted to me—which she wasn't—she probably was mortified that other people were around. I'm such a piece of shit.

    I gripped my hair tightly as I rinsed the shampoo from it. I needed to remember who I was dealing with. Being selfish and sucking Charlotte into my shit was basically the worst thing I could do.

    Half-an-hour later I pulled up in front of Charlotte's building and texted her that I was outside. When she stumbled out of the front door carrying a bag half her size I jumped out of my truck and jogged towards her.

    "Morning, Sweetheart," I said as I grabbed her bag and threw it over my shoulder. Instead of responding, Charlotte trudged off towards the truck grumbling under her breath. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed and left her dorm. She was wearing my red hoodie again and grey sweatpants that were tight at the ankle. The only bit of skin showing was her small feet peeking out of sandals. She hid from the bright morning sun by pulling the hood up over her dark curls that were flying in every different direction. The action put my last name on display across her back and pride swelled in my chest as I slipped back into the fantasy.

    "Fucking adorable," I mumbled as I wiped my hand over my face and followed behind her.

After I settled back in my truck, I checked to see how Charlotte was doing. She had curled up into a ball with her feet tucked up on the seat. Her face rested on her hands as she blinked slowly. I envied how comfy she could get anywhere from her small size. I hated being in a vehicle and not behind the wheel. It was torture to be squished every which way just to fit into a space not built for oversized people.

"Sweetheart, why are you so grumpy? You're the one who wanted to get up this early. I would have gladly slept a few more hours." Apparently that was not the right thing to say. Charlotte's eyes widened as her mouth opened and closed like a guppy like she couldn't decide what to say first.