Forever Princeton Charming

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Forever Princeton Charming Page 1

by Love, Frankie




  Forever Princeton Charming

  C.M. Seabrook

  Frankie Love

  Copyright © 2019 by C.M. Seabrook, Frankie Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Forever Princeton Charming

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue I

  Epilogue II

  Afterword

  More from Frankie and C.M.

  Sneek Peek of The Wife Lottery

  C.M. Seabrook

  Also by C.M. Seabrook

  Frankie Love

  Also by Frankie Love

  Forever Princeton Charming

  He’s fighting for their fairy tale.

  Charlotte Hayes lost her slipper – err shoe – the first night she met Spencer Beckett, A.K.A. Princeton Charming. She fell into his arms and their lives were changed. Forever.

  One kiss and she was smitten.

  One date and she was head over heels.

  One tragedy and her heart was his.

  They may want the same thing, but someone is determined to take what they’ve fought so hard for – and now Charlie is fighting for her life.

  If Spencer loses the woman he loves … they’ll never get their happily-ever-after.

  Will they get the fairy tale ending they both deserve?

  ** Forever Princeton Charming is the final book in the four-book Princeton Charming series.

  1

  Spencer

  I’m losing her. This can’t be happening.

  I pace the sterile hallway as doctors and nurses yell and scramble in the small ICU room, trying to restart Charlie’s heart. But all I can hear is the monotonous beep of the monitor.

  Flatline.

  And it’s like my own heart has stopped. It may as well have. Because I don’t think I’ll survive if she doesn’t.

  “Come on, Charlie. Fight. Don’t do this.” I tug at my hair, tears burning my eyes and blurring my vision. I’ve experienced loss, but this...this feeling, like some essential part of me has cracked in half, it’s unbearable. “Please, God. Don’t take her from me.”

  Tatum is behind me, his own anguish and fear palpable. I struggle to hold myself back from beating the last breath from his lungs for his part in this. But there’s still a twisted feeling inside me that wonders if Charlie was wrong about his involvement.

  But I can’t care about that right now, not while she’s fighting for her life, while there’s still a chance she can come back to me.

  “Come on, Charlie,” I demand through gritted teeth, like my own desire for her to live can somehow restart her heart. “Please.”

  And then the monotonous beep stops. There’s a second of silence. A second that seems like a goddamn eternity. A second when I fear the worst, that the medical team has given up. And then I hear it.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  A steady, but slow sound that signals a pulse, and a sob rips from my chest.

  The doctor continues to bark orders and the next thing I know they’re wheeling the gurney through the door and down the hall. I’m pushed back and I only get a small glimpse of Charlie’s pale face before they’re rushing her away.

  I grab one of the nurse’s arms and ask, “Where are they taking her?”

  She frowns down at my hand and I release her. “The OR,” she says, gaze softening. “Can you find your way back to the family waiting room? Someone will come in and talk to you when we know more.”

  I want to argue with her, demand to know more now, insist that she tell me Charlie’s going to be okay. But I know that I’m just holding her back from doing her job - saving my girlfriend’s life.

  “Yeah. I can find my way back.” I give a hard nod, and she turns and follows after Charlie.

  I drag my hands over my face and take in a few steadying breaths, feeling like my legs might just give out on me any second.

  Across from me, Tatum gives me a wary look. He’s leaning against the wall, face almost as white as Charlie’s had been, and he looks as miserable as I feel.

  I can’t do this here. Because I swear to god, if the guy says one word, I’ll have him laid out on the hospital floor. So I walk away, toward the small, private room where Jill and Daphne are waiting.

  They stand when I walk in.

  “How is she?” Jill asks, and I realize they have no clue what just happened, that we almost lost her.

  That we may still lose her.

  I sink down into one of the chairs and bury my head in my hands, feeling nauseous. I’m not sure where the hell Prescott has disappeared to, but I could use him here now.

  “Spencer?” Jill sits beside me. “You’re scaring me. Tell me how Charlie is.”

  “They just took her into the OR,” Tatum says from the door, voice broken. “Her heart stopped—”

  “Someone needs to get that bastard out of here, before I kill him,” I growl out, standing, but Jill stands with me, placing herself between us. She equals my height, but I could easily push past her to wrap my hands around Tatum’s throat.

  “You want to tell me why you think I have anything to do with this?” Tatum spits out, a flash of anger in his hard gaze.

  “Charlie saw you. You ran her off the fucking road, then left her there to die.”

  His eyes widen. “Jesus, Beckett, you’re delusional.”

  “I don’t know why you think Tatum would do that.” Jill is frowning at me, hand on my chest stopping me from going after him. “He was with me all night. We were studying at the library when I got your call.”

  My right eye twitches and I look between them, not sure what to believe. Why the hell would Charlie make it up? She wouldn’t.

  Daphne has remained silent the entire time, but she pipes up now, “I don’t get it. Charlie said she saw Tatum?”

  I rub the back of my neck and go through the conversation. “She said it was a Taurus that had been following her.”

  “Right.” Tatum blows out an exasperated breath. “And I’m the only fucking guy in Princeton who drives one, so of course it had to be me.”

  “She saw you get out of the car.” I scrub my hands over my face, a tickling at the back of my neck knowing something isn’t right, but needing someone to blame, to lash out at. “After the accident. She saw your sweatshirt, the one...” What had she said? “The one with the bleach stain.”

  Tatum shakes his head and unzips his coat, then takes it off. He’s wearing a Princeton hoodie, but there isn’t a stain on it. “I lost that fucking sweatshirt months ago.” He looks bewildered, and hurt when he asks, “Charlie believes I tried to hurt her?”

  “We all know Tatum would never...” Jill starts, but I give her a hard look, because right now, I’m not sure of anything...or anyone.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, pinching my fingers at the bridge of my nose.

  I place my hands on the back of my head and pace, then sit down again. Any adrenaline that I had before is now gone, and I fe
el drained, numb. None of this makes sense, but I also realize that Tatum being involved in any of this makes the least sense.

  Tense silence fills the room, and both Jill and Daphne sit back down. Tatum still hovers in the doorway, looking like a wounded dog. And I get it. If I was a better person, I might care that his feelings are hurt, but right now I only have enough in me to worry about Charlie.

  Seconds, minutes, hours, tick by, and no one says anything as we wait. Prescott keeps texting me. Thinking Charlie was okay, he’d gone back to check on Ava, who’s still shaken up about her dorm room being doused in pig’s blood. I told him to keep her at his place, even though they both insisted they come back. But there’s nothing they can do here.

  Nothing any of us can do but wait and pray.

  And I do. I’m not a religious person, but I beg whatever God will listen to save her.

  But the longer we wait, the more time that passes, hope leaves me. And I can see it fading in Tatum as well. He’s sitting on the floor now, on the opposite side of the room, and when I glance over at him, he looks away.

  “Say something to him,” Jill says so that only I can hear.

  But what the fuck am I supposed to say? Sorry that I thought you tried to kill your best friend? Sorry that I punched you in the face without giving you the benefit of the doubt. Either of those would do, but I just close my eyes and shake my head.

  “I’m going to get some snacks, see if the cafeteria is still open,” Daphne says. How she can think of food at a time like this is beyond me.

  “I’ll go with you.” Jill stands and follows her out, and I realize that maybe it isn’t about being hungry. It’s about needing something to do. The alternative is pacing the corridors with panic.

  Alone with Tatum, I lean back in my chair and glance over at him. His eye is already changing colors from where I hit him, and it’ll be completely black tomorrow.

  “Sorry about the eye,” I mutter.

  He grunts and looks away, arms crossed over his chest. “You think I couldn’t have taken you out with one shot if I wanted to?”

  It’s the second time I’ve hit him, and he’s right, with his size and strength, I wouldn’t have a chance if he ever fought back.

  “Why didn’t you?” I ask.

  He holds my gaze for a moment, and I wonder if he’s not thinking about taking a shot now. But then he shakes his head and mutters, “Because I knew you must have had a reason...” He stands, then sits down across from me where Daphne had been sitting before, burying his head in his hands. “I’d never hurt her, not on purpose. That she thought... shit... I’d rather die than—”

  “Yeah. I believe you.”

  His head jerks up and he meets my gaze, there’s a coldness in his eyes, a fierceness that I’ve never seen before. “You think I give a shit about what you believe? It’s Charlotte who I...” He shakes his head and looks away. “What fucking reason would I have to hurt her?”

  “Jealousy,” I spit out, regretting it the second I say it. But it’s what I’d been thinking originally. That he couldn’t stand her being with me.

  His lips turn up in a sneer. “You think I’m jealous of you? I feel sorry for you. Because with all your money, all your influence, you’ll never be the man she needs.”

  I let out a heavy sigh, and I know I deserve his words, his anger. “You might be right, but I’m willing to try every day of my life to become that man.”

  He grunts, his gaze unfocused when he looks away. “You’ll fail.”

  “Maybe.” But I’m not going to be a coward ever again, letting her go because I think she deserves better. She does. But if she survives this, I’ll do everything in my power to be the better she deserves.

  More silence. More seconds. More minutes. They stretch, like a never-ending void until a woman in scrubs comes into the room.

  Both Tatum and I stand in unison, but neither of us are brave enough to ask the dreaded question.

  “Charlotte is in recovery,” she says, her expression unreadable.

  Tatum and I let out a collective sigh and he sits back down, muttering, “Thank god.”

  “So she’s going to be all right?” I ask.

  “She’s stable. There was a small clot that moved to her heart.” The woman keeps talking, medical terms and treatments that are way over my head. But I heard the only thing that matters - Charlie is alive.

  “Can I see her?” I need to see her. Need to hold her hand. See her chest rise and fall with each breath.

  “I’ll have someone come for you when she’s able to have visitors.”

  I want to argue with her, to demand to be taken to Charlie, but I know it would be useless.

  When the doctor leaves I sink back into my chair. “She’s okay.” The words are for me, and I have to repeat it a few times. “She’s going to be all right.”

  Tears burn my eyes and when I glance over at Tatum, he’s dragging his fingers over his own, wiping the tears away.

  My phone beeps and I see a message from Daniel, Charlie’s dad. He’s landed at the airport and is on his way to the hospital. I exhale, grateful that one thing went according to plan. Getting Daniel here, to be at Charlie’s side was important, but I’m still surprised at the tears that I can’t blink away.

  I can barely get the news out when Jill and Daphne return. Thankfully, Tatum seems to be more articulate than I am, reciting verbatim what the doctor said.

  “I knew she’d be all right,” Daphne says, hugging Tatum. “There’s no one tougher than Charlotte.”

  “You okay?” Jill asks, sitting down in the plastic hospital chair beside me and offering me a Twizzler.

  “Okay?” I shake my head, my stomach churning at the thought of food. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

  Jill places her hand on my arm. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  “So damn much. The thought of losing her...” I choke on the words as I see Charlie’s pale face, hear the flatline in my mind. I rub my eyes, feeling broken, like at any second my world will turn upside down again.

  “She’s in recovery, she’s going to be okay,” Jill says with authority. “You have to believe that. For Charlie.” She gives me a small smile. “You know positive energy and all that.”

  “You always so cool and collected?” I ask, not feeling the confidence she speaks with.

  “I want to be a campaign manager, so I’ve spent a lot of time practicing how to deal with stress.” She shrugs. “Also, I grew up with a mother who relied on me for a lot of things. It made me grow up fast. But what I do know is that Daphne is right, Charlie’s a fighter. She’ll get through this and be stronger for it.” She squeezes my arm. “And we’ll be there to help her.”

  I realize I needed Jill’s positive words. And when Charlie wakes up, she’ll need us all to be strong for her. Not the broken mess I am right now.

  “She’s lucky to have you for a friend,” I say.

  Jill gives a small smile. “I think we both know it’s us who are lucky to have her.”

  “Yeah. I won’t argue with that.”

  A few minutes later, Ava and Prescott enter the room carrying a paper tray of coffees. I told them to wait until Charlie woke up to come back, but my chest tightens when I see them. I’m glad they didn’t listen to me, because I need them now, more than ever.

  Jill smiles as Ava hands her a cup. “Thank you. I need this, we’ve been up all night.”

  “We figured,” Ava says as I stand pulling my little sister into a hug. “You hanging in there?” she asks. Her eyes are filled with worry that matches my own.

  “Barely.” Memories of the night we lost Ethan surface, and it’s painful, being here in a hospital again. That I almost lost Charlie the same way I lost my brother. “I’ll be better once I can see her.”

  Ava hugs me harder before releasing me, and I know she’s been through her own hell tonight.

  “Anything back from campus security or the police on the vandalism?” I ask, taking the co
ffee from Prescott.

  Daphne and Tatum join us, everyone anxious for details. For any answer at all. A reason for this madness.

  “The cops came, did a shit show job as far as I consider,” Prescott says. “But the crime scene had already been compromised by the time Ava had gotten there. Her roommate had already shown up with half the lacrosse team.” He shakes his head, then places an arm around my little sister, before adding through gritted teeth, “The police chalked it up to college pranks.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Tatum spits out, fury in his eyes. “It’s more than that. Hell, Charlie was run off the road.” We’re all on edge, but Tatum puts our frustration to words. “Can’t the cops put two and two together? If they can’t do their job, then maybe we—”

  “You have questions for us, son?” a uniformed officer asks from the doorway, another behind him. There’s a challenge in the way the man looks at Tatum.

  “Yeah, I want to know what you’re doing to catch whoever did this.” Tatum moves toward the cops and his jaw twitches, anger and tension vibrating off him.

  I know his protective streak over Charlie could get him in trouble. And I get it. I want to fight the whole world right now, shit I already threw a punch at Tatum. And I can feel his need to come to blows with someone over it. But fighting the police will only get his ass thrown in jail.

  Prescott seems to notice it too, and he steps in front of Tatum, giving him a look and saying something under his breath that seems to settle him slightly.

  “Have you located the Taurus?” I ask the officer whose badge reads Delacorte. “The guy responsible?”

 

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