Connor's POV (Chapter 14)

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As promised, here is Connor's POV of Chapter Fourteen. If you've forgotten, this is the chapter after the party. Oh, and I'm aware that I suck at writing in a guy's POV. So sorry if he sounds like the girliest guy ever. Enjoy :-)

NOTE TO THE READER: This is a BONUS chapter. If you're here straight after reading Chapter 14 of the original story, I strongly advise against reading this. It'll ruin the entire story for you. I know some of you will do it anyway, but this chapter is NOT part of the original story. It is not intended to be read until you have finished the book. Please don't ruin it for yourself.

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“But babe,” Charlotte drawls, not removing her hands from their interlocking position behind my neck, “why can’t I just stay over?”

            I resist the urge to push her away from me. We’re standing in the middle of the living room, and the two of us are the only ones left in the house after tonight’s party. I’ve managed to turf everybody else out, but Charlotte’s clinginess is proving something of a challenge. She’s obviously drunk, but even sobriety wouldn’t make her a great deal more appealing. With lip gloss smudged down her chin and a tendency to giggle at everything I say, I’m finding her the most irritating she’s been since we started dating.

            “You can’t,” I say, trying to feign disappointment. “My mom will kill me. She’ll be getting home soon.”

            I know for a fact that Mom won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon, but Charlotte doesn’t know that. When I first started dating her, I knew she had a reputation, but I failed to realize how much of it was actually true. She’s constantly all over me, no matter where we are, and PDA doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. In fact, it seems to be one of her favorite pastimes. Sure, it comes in handy when Georgie’s around – the only reason I’m putting up with Charlotte is to get under her skin – but most of the time I wish Charlotte came with an off switch. She may be hot, but I couldn’t be less attracted to her if I tried.

            “We can be quiet,” Charlotte whispers, giggling stupidly. “And I can climb out of your window if she comes home early. Come on… it’ll be exciting.”

            “No.” My voice comes out snippier than I intended. “Not tonight, okay? You can’t stay over.”

            She frowns, peering at me closely. Then, as if realizing I’m serious, she retracts her arms and folds them over her chest. I try to soften my expression, but it’s difficult to mask the glare I want to give her.

            “Fine,” she says sharply. “Suit yourself.”

            She snatches up her purse from the couch, visibly irritated. I know there’ll be hell to pay for pissing her off, especially when she finally sobers up, but I can’t deal with her right now. A night spent with my drunk, clingy girlfriend doesn’t sound particularly tempting – and even less so when I’ve got a whole house to clear up before my mom comes home and kills me.

            “I’ll call you tomorrow!” I call after Charlotte’s retreating back in a pitiful attempt to defuse the situation. However, she doesn’t respond, instead heading (a little unsteadily) to the door and slamming it behind her.

            I swear, dealing with that girl is like handling a grenade.

            The sound of the door echoes throughout the house and I take a breath of relief. I’m not sure what time it is, but the last of the partygoers have finally vacated the place. I hadn’t wanted them here, but what else was I supposed to do when Georgie had already spread the word? I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of sending everybody away; my only option had been to pretend I’d been prepared for this all along.

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