Chapter Eighteen
Ponticello: on the bridge; in string playing, an indication to pluck or bow the string very near to the bridge, which produces a characteristic glassy sound that emphasizes the higher harmonics
Charlie
I end the call with Damian and hold the phone against my chest for a second, feeling both satisfied and unsettled. Satisfied, because Damian agreed so easily to my suggestion of picking up him and Lauren on my plane. A smile comes to my face at his initial misunderstanding of my suggestion. Because he forgets so easily that I’m not just a normal twenty-one-year-old.
Rolling over, I set my phone on the nightstand. After finishing my show tonight, I got back to the hotel and took a shower, pulling on my sleep shorts and tank top before calling Damian. I’d texted him earlier today to see if it would be okay for me to call this late, and he’d agreed.
But every time we talk, I feel this restlessness, this longing. I miss him. That’s the simple reality.
I miss us.
The way we were together. The feel of his skin, his lips, his hands sliding over me.
Turning off the lamp, I lie back, slipping my hand down my torso under the covers, under my shorts, giving into the memories, the fantasy of what he might do to me if he were here, if our relationship had never fractured. If he still loved me.
I stroke the soft skin of my belly, lower down, brushing over my bare mound, thinking about his low, sexy voice. He does that when we’re on the phone. Gets that suggestive quality that still gets me hot every time. I don’t always touch myself after talking to him. But lying in bed while we talked tonight, it had felt intimate in a way that it doesn’t during the daylight hours. When our conversation is more focused on sharing little stories about our days, not confidences.
Tonight’s conversation wasn’t that sexy, not really, but I fool myself into pretending it was. Because here, alone, I can pretend whatever I like. And giving into the fantasy of Damian and me doesn’t harm anyone.
I press my hips up to my hand, gently applying more pressure, slipping a finger between my lips to find my clit, down to my opening to gather the wetness that started flowing on the phone, and stroke myself.
Memories of his hands on me, in me, his eyes watching me, his lips and tongue and teeth on my nipples as he brought me to orgasm after orgasm has me hurtling to the brink in minutes. I slow down, wanting to savor the memory, the fantasy, for just a moment longer. But it’s too much. My body cries out for release, and with a gasp, I rub frantic circles on my clit, my muscles tensing, then relaxing as heat washes out from my center, pleasant tingles spreading through my limbs.
Rubbing slower, I bring myself down, feeling pleasantly relaxed, then drag my hand up my body. Pulling the blankets up around my neck I roll onto my side, closing my eyes and imagining that Damian will be back in a second to slide into bed behind me before we both fall asleep.
It’s a lovely dream. Too bad I doubt it’ll ever happen again.
I keep checking my phone as I wait on my plane. We landed about thirty minutes ago at Felt’s Field, the private airfield near Spokane. Lauren and Damian were supposed to be at the tiny airport already, but they still haven’t boarded.
“Relax,” Natalie says from the seat across from me, where she’s reading on her iPad. “You know they have to do all the stuff they do to the plane first. Lauren texted you that they were here before we even landed. They’ll be here any minute.”
I toss my phone on the couch beside me. “I know, I know. I’m just …”
Natalie glances up and gives me a smile. “Everything will be fine. They’re your friends, right? They’ll be happy to see you.”
I nod, biting my thumbnail again. It’s not Lauren I’m worried about. She screamed her excitement when I called and told her I wanted to pick her up and fly her to Boise for the competition. “I’ve never been on a private plane before! You’re the coolest friend ever,” were her exact words.
Smiling at the memory, I force my hands to my lap. Damian’s reaction is the one that has me nervous. This will be the first time that my star status is really shoved in his face. Into his lived reality. It’s one thing for him to hear about it over the phone or see random pictures of me in the media, but it’s another thing altogether for him to experience it for himself.
Given his bad reaction when he found out that I’m Charlotte James, and the fact that he always seems uncomfortable when money comes up, specifically the fact that I have lots of it, I’m not sure how he’ll be when he gets here.
“We’re opening the door for your guests to board now.”
I look up at Jane, my flight attendant, and give her a smile. “Thank you.”
I guess I’ll find out what Damian thinks very soon.
I’ve never noticed how long it takes for people to board a plane before. Or I’ve never been so anxious about it, making each second feel like hours.
But they finally arrive. Lauren climbs the stairs first, bursting into the cabin with a squeal of excitement. She throws her arms wide and heads straight for me, her heavy violin case knocking against us both as she wraps me in a tight hug.
“I’m so happy to see you. And this is so awesome. I never would’ve asked you to do this, but I definitely won’t turn down such an amazing offer. The only thing that would make it better is if Gabby could come too!”
Laughing, I hug her back. “It all worked out great. It’s about time to do another of my pop-up shows, so I’m doing one in Boise on Saturday night. Then I’ll fly you guys back on Sunday before heading home.”
Lauren pulls back, eyes wide. “We get to come to your show too?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t bring you along and then make you sit in the hotel on your own. That would be crappy.”
With a happy laugh, Lauren hugs me again, this one quick, then she turns and actually looks around. “This is awesome. Look, Damian! We’re living the high life now!”
I look past her to where Damian stands, looking uncertain, his cello case still on his back. He smiles at Lauren before his eyes find mine, and his smile seems to grow warmer, less indulgent than the one he gave to our friend. “We sure are,” he says in answer to Lauren. “Hi, Charlie. Good to see you.”
Stepping around Lauren, I press up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. He surprises me by hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me in for a hug. I end up circling my arms under his shoulders, since his case prevents me from hugging him the way I like. But I’ll take it. Eyes closed, I breathe him in, happy to be in his arms again.
Jane clears her throat, and Damian releases me. “I can show you where to store your instruments.”
Damian and Lauren both follow her to stow their cases in a closet in the back of the plane, then come back and settle into their seats. Lauren sits next to me on the couch, Natalie occupies the chair across from her, and Damian is in the other chair across from me. I introduce them to Natalie, and we all fall into an easy conversation about the concerto competition and the winner’s concert in Boise in May.
“When do they announce the winner?” Natalie asks.
“I’m pretty sure at the end of the day on Friday,” Damian answers. He looks at Natalie, but his eyes move back to me as soon as he finishes speaking. That’s the way it’s been since he boarded. He looks at whoever he’s speaking to when he answers, but his eyes always come back to me. That fact warms me from the inside, and I give him a smile. He smiles back. And it’s not until Lauren clears her throat that I realize silence has fallen around us as we’ve had our private moment.
Lauren’s gaze is amused as it bounces between Damian and me, and I look down, smoothing the hem of my shirt on my leg.
“So, Natalie,” Lauren says loudly, “how long have you worked with Charlie?”