Chapter 8. Too Good to Be True

CHARLOTTE

My head snapped toward the door, speechless.

“I got a sanitary pad for you,” he added gently. “If that’s why you’re… you know. Not coming out.”

Oh.

My.

God.

I just stood there, mouth open.

How the hell did he find out? Did I stain his expensive bed or something? Please don’t tell me he’s a creep.

No, Char, think positively. He’s trying to help you out here.

“Thanks,” I croaked, “So much. Thank you.”

“I’ll just leave it on the bed,” he said quietly. “And go get something for your stomach… just in case.”

And then I heard him walking gently around the room. Probably getting dressed.

After a few seconds, I heard a door shut.

I stood frozen for ten whole seconds before getting out of the shock.

“NO WAY a straight man is this nice!”

I stepped out of the bathroom cautiously, like I was entering a sacred temple.

And there, on the edge of the bed—I found not just one pad.

A freakin