Chapter Eight

Charlie

I sit on Addy’s couch by myself with a raging hard-on wondering what the hell just happened. Had she been pretending she wanted me for some reason? What had gone wrong? She said she wanted more and then ran away.

Now I’m faced with making a decision. What do I do? We still have to go out to dinner, we still have to talk about a career together. Great, I’ve gone and messed this whole thing up within a few minutes because of my stupid sexual fantasies about Ada Springfield. It could have just cost myself my whole career.

Maybe I can fix this. I walk over to the bathroom and sit down on the floor leaning my back against the wall.

“Addy,” I say and lightly knock. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, you don’t have to stay. Really, it’s okay if you leave Charlie, I’m sorry I’m such a freak.”

“You said you didn’t know what you were doing,” I say tentatively, “did you mean you’re still uhm, untouched.” Saying the word virgin to a twenty-four-year-old woman seems ridiculous to me, but I know it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

It’s just she is so sexy I don’t know how nobody has gotten into her pants yet. The thought that I was almost the first person to go where nobody had been before makes me horny all over again.

The door opens and she walks out. “Of course, not Charlie. I just got out of a serious relationship and I’m not sure I’m ready for what was about to happen.”

She is speaking with an authoritative tone, but she won’t look at me. This leads me to believe she is lying right now. I can’t believe it. She really is still a virgin and she’s trying so hard to make me think otherwise. No wonder the little scenario happened earlier. She threw herself at me so she wouldn’t keep thinking about what she was about to do. It all makes sense now. I should have somehow figured it out and slowed things down.

If it saves her feelings, I’ll play along for now. I just won’t let her get back into a position to give me blue balls again. I’m going to have to take cold showers for an entire month to get rid of the ache I currently have. But I remember her voice and how she had made me feel and realize it will be worth it. It feels like so long since I was innocent it's nice to see the world through her eyes. She is going to be my ticket to the top, and I won’t have to worry about my money coming from dear old dad.

“Okay, Addy, whatever you say. You ready to go eat. We can pretend that didn’t happen and just have a regular business meeting. The last thing I want is to be your rebound guy,” I tell her. With her taste still on my lips making me crave more. I remind myself and my dick this is business and to stop thinking of anything else.

She nods but still doesn’t look my way. I watch as she pulls on her a shapeless sweater that does nothing to diminish how sexy she is and walks to the door.

Does she think if she looks at me I’ll come after her again for sex? What kind of man does she think I am? Or is she afraid she will come after me? I remember her voicemail from so many years ago. How angry she sounded when she called me oversexed. This game might be fun to play if one of us doesn’t get hurt in the end. The issue is I have to keep her happy and committed to sing with me or all my plans fall apart.

Maybe I should stop this game before it even starts. It would be the smart thing to do. But if we’re going to be singing together and to each other, the sexual tension will be good for the music.

“I have a song I’ve been thinking we can start with that I’ve written. I have the pages in the truck so you can look at them on the way to the restaurant.” I tell her. Wanting her attention back on me.

Finally, she turns her pretty brown eyes on me. “Really, you write your music too?”

“Yes, I do. You have to make it anymore. Unless you’re Beyoncé or something.” I laugh at my own stupid joke. I’m sensitive about letting people read anything I write, but I don’t want her to know that. Secretly, I hope she really likes my lyrics.

“Who said I agreed to sing with you. This was a business meeting for you to try and convince me this is a good idea. Remember?”

“Well, we just proved we work well together.” I think we’ve surpassed business meeting and this has turned into a date, but who am I to know?

Her face turns bright red and I can’t help but smile. I hope she is remembering my lips all over her under her dress because I know that’s what all she be thinking about for the rest of the night.

“Just remember I haven’t agreed to anything yet. I don’t like singing in front of crowds and I don’t think I will ever want to be famous.”

“All I ask is you keep an open mind. We can work something out, and you can get over your stage fright. I will help you. Your voice needs to be heard.”

“I said I would listen that’s why we're going, but I don’t think you are going to be able to convince me.” She pulls her bottom lip with her teeth and I hold in my groan. She is going to be super difficult and just that simple act shot lust through me.

“Well if you don’t think I’m going to be able to get you to sing with me I guess there is no reason for you to read my song.”

Her head whips around so she can stare at me. Game on.

“No, you should let me see what you've written. It will help me decide if this is going to be worth it. I don’t want to sing just any song.”

I smile at her and wink. We both know she just fell into my trap and she is stuck.

We get to my truck and I open the door for her, helping her in. I try to ignore the beautiful way her dress flutters around her legs or the way she crosses her ankles as she gets situated in the seat. She really is different from the other girls I’m around. Savannah would have been trying to give me road head after doing a line of my dashboard. I kind of stifle a chuckle at the contrast.

“Such a gentleman,” Ada smiles.

“Hey, I try,” giving her my award-winning smile. I close the door and take my time walking around the back of the truck. Before I get to the driver’s side, I quickly re-adjust my still rock-hard cock. Even though the mood was dead and gone, my mini-me didn’t get the notice. He’s still primed and ready to go.

Taking a deep breath, I open my door and climb in. Her smile is beautiful and it sends a ping right through my chest. I need to watch out, or I may be in more trouble than I was anticipating.

On the way to the restaurant, Ada reads my music and I must admit, I’m more than just a little nervous. She’s quiet as she reads it and I have glanced at her a hundred times trying to determine what she thinks by her facial expressions.

After parking the truck, I help her down and we walk to the restaurant entrance. It’s a nice Italian place I wouldn’t bring just anyone to. Thomas told me I needed to get her on our side tonight so I was pulling out all the stops. I hope she appreciates it. I admire her backside in the dress. I’d been so close to getting off her as she walks in front of me and I shake my head. Yep, I’m in trouble.

“So, what did you think?” I can’t hold it in anymore. She’d read over it without saying a word the whole way over and the anticipation is killing me. I find myself really caring what she thinks. I can’t explain why, but her opinion is important to me.

“I think I need to hear it with the music to know if I can sing it with you,” she says.

She didn’t deny singing it with me so I took that as a plus, but it still didn’t answer my question. We take our seats at the table and the waitress brings bread and water.

“I mean what do you think of the lyrics?” I try not to let her see how desperate I am for her opinion.

“I like the lyrics, but.” She hesitates not wanting to continue talking and busies herself with her bread.

“No don’t hold back Ada, I want to know. I don’t let a lot of people read my stuff when I first write it. So, your opinion means something because I don’t have very many people to give it to me.”

She thinks as she picks her bread apart. I know it’s going to be hurtful if she’s taking this long to tell me what she thinks. She puts each piece in the oil and vinegar and watches it soak up.

“It’s a good song Charlie, I just don’t think there’s any emotion behind it. I just feel like you can dig deeper and do so much better.”

“I worked really hard on that song,” I’m defensive. “It’s about someone who used to be special to me.”

“Okay,” she holds her hands up as if she surrendering. She shoves bread in her mouth as if to stop herself from saying more, but now she has my curiosity up.

“I’m sorry. I’m protective of my work. I want to know what you really think. How’s it read to you?”

“Are you sure?” She asks once she finishes chewing.

I take a deep breath. Do I really want to hear what she has to say? “Yes.” The waitress comes back to take our order and we both keep it simple with spaghetti and meatballs.

“The way it reads to me is you were sexually attracted to this girl for the summer. You went out of your way to have sex with her and you were successful and it was a lustful relationship and it ended there.”

“It wasn’t all sex,” I say, but truthfully, it was. It was one hell of a summer if I were being honest. But I’m not going to tell her that. Although it doesn’t seem to matter she was able to get that much from the lyrics themselves.

“I mean I think you may have actually used a line that talked about the sheets or between the sheets. If that’s the message you want to send, that’s fine. I just don’t know how you expect me to sing something like that with you.”

I think about what she said for a minute. It doesn’t really make sense for her to sing the song with me. I was thinking she would take a verse and change the words a little, make it something we could both have an attachment to. Now, I’m rethinking everything I’ve ever written.

“Well, I’m glad you think my work has no meaning,” I say a little harsher than I mean. “If you’ll excuse me.”

I go to the bathroom to wash my hands and gather my thoughts. I don’t want to snap at her again. It’s not her fault. I asked her for her real opinion. I’m just too sensitive about my work. When you put your whole self into something you don’t want someone criticizing it.

I need this though, I tell myself. I need someone to call me on my bullshit and I need someone to help me make my work better. Thomas knew what he was doing by getting Ada involved, I just needed to stop being a little bitch. Music was always my passion and if I was going to make it, I needed to get a thicker skin when it came to my work.

I am making a decision right now that I must do whatever I can to make her my partner. When I go back to the table, I need to be charming and convincing this is the right move for her.