Charlie
“That was some kiss,” I said when we were out of my parents’ development.
My cheeks flooded with warmth, both from being in the heat after standing outside for so long and from the spark ignited by Cameron’s lips. My fingertips fluttered over my swollen bottom lip, skating the smooth surface of it, a flash of the kiss resurfacing just from that.
It’d been so long since he kissed me like that, so long since I felt that kind of possessive passion from him, and all I wanted was to hold on to it for the night.
Cameron glanced over at me before his eyes found the road again. “It was just a kiss.”
“It reminded me of the way you kissed me at our first bonfire at Garrick.”
At that, Cameron smirked, cocking one brow in my direction. “Yeah, well, my fraternity brothers couldn’t keep their eyes off you. I had to let them know you were taken.”
I flushed.
“That kiss led to a pretty amazing night,” I reminded him.
It was the first time I think I really knew we’d be together forever. We’d gone to a hotel off campus, the honeymoon suite with a giant jet tub in the room. Cameron made love to me like I was his wife, even though we’d only been dating a few months at the time.
“It did,” he agreed. He smiled wider, and then his right hand came off the wheel and landed on my thigh with a gentle squeeze.
I stared at that hand and smiled, too.
By the time we made it home, I could barely sit still. I might as well have taken three caffeine pills for how the energy in that car buzzed through me. He’d kissed me like he still wanted me, held my thigh like he was proud to call me his again.
It all led me to one overpowering thought: We were going to have sex.
It’d been so long, but after that kiss, after his hand reaching out for me again, I knew we were going to. Just the thought of it, the memories of what it would feel like when his hand first dipped down from my neck and cupped my breast, of what he would taste like after taking his time kissing me between my thighs — those thoughts unraveled me like yarn, his unexpected affection the snag that started it all.
I rushed upstairs, stopping long enough to sing a little song with Jane and Edward before I covered their cage, settling them in for the night. I dipped inside the bathroom next, excitement bubbling like a fountain coming back to life.
When I assessed myself in the mirror, I smiled again. My makeup was still in place from earlier that evening, my cheeks rosy, lips frosted pink. I let my hair down, shaking it out, running my fingers through the waves before peeling off my dress. I hummed, listening to Cameron undressing in the other room.
Want rolled off of me like steam. He was just one room over, stripping down, exposing himself for me. I wanted him so bad it physically hurt to wait any longer.
I let out a long exhale, running my fingers through my hair again as my eyes bounced around my reflection.
My small breasts were perky, dusky pink nipples tight and aching for Cameron’s touch. My skin was as white as snow, contrasting the dark hair falling over my shoulders, and I ran my hands down over my slim waist, my hips, imagining his hands on me after months of starvation.
Tonight, he’d kissed me.
Tonight, he’d have me again.
With one more shaky breath, one hand found the cold door knob, and I slowly pushed it open.
Jane and Edward still twitted beneath their black cover a bit, cooing their goodnights to one another, and Cameron was already under the sheets. His back was turned to me, the lamp on his side of the bed casting our bedroom in a soft, warm glow. Just seeing him there, the sheets pooled at his waist, his body expanding with every breath — it set my desire ablaze, the burn of it singeing me from the inside out.
I sauntered over slowly, crawling under the covers behind him.
I hadn’t been that nervous to touch him since the first night I ever did.
With shaky hands, I ran my fingers over the hard muscles of his back, pressing myself closer to him so he could feel my naked body against his own. He was so warm, my own skin like ice, and I moaned a bit at the sensation as I lowered a kiss to his shoulder blade. I kissed him softly, trailing my lips over his shoulder and neck as my hand reached low on his abdomen, skating the dusting of hair there.
A breathy moan left my lips as his body rolled into my touch, just marginally, just enough for me to notice. But when I pushed my fingertips beneath the band of his briefs, his hand shot down to wrap around my wrist.
“I’m beat, Charlie,” he said gently, pulling my hand up to his mouth instead. He kissed my palm, rolling over to catch my lips next. I tried to deepen the kiss while I had him, but he pulled away too quickly, leaning forward to click off the lamp in the next second. “Goodnight.”
And just like that, in one split second, every familiar emotion that had brought me back to life that night died again — this second death even more painful in the warm bed that didn’t warm me any longer.
Rejection seeped through me like poison, killing my desire and confidence both in one fell swoop.
I pulled my hand away like it had been burned, rolling over until I lay on my back, my eyes focusing somewhere beyond the ceiling. Cameron lay so still next to me, like he was afraid to move, afraid to breathe — like any clue that he was still awake would have me reaching for him, trying to convince him to want this, to want me.
He didn’t want me.
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, and I pressed my fingertips hard over the skin, massaging it as tears pooled in my eyes.
I remembered a time when the thought of him refusing sex would have been laughable. If anything, it was hard for me to keep up with his desire. But time had changed everything. It’d changed me, him, the way we were together. It’d changed our circumstances, our futures, and so much more.
Time had wedged miles between us quickly, but it was taking its sweet time bringing us back together.
I wasn’t sure if it ever really would.
When Cameron’s breathing slowed and a soft snore let me know he was asleep, I slipped from the sheets and into the bathroom once more. I closed the door behind me quietly, turning the lock, and then I leaned my back against it with a sigh. The tears I’d been fighting back fell in perfect symmetry with the closing of my eyes, but I swiped them away quickly, crossing the beautiful pearl tile to run a hot bath.
My mind wandered as I sat at the edge of the tub watching the water rush in, my fingers lazily dancing across the top of it. I liked the way it bubbled out around my fingertips if I pressed into the water just enough, but not too much to submerge them.
And as my eyes lost focus, memories flooded in.
Cameron and I that night after the bonfire — the bubbles in the bath and in our champagne, too.
I heard his laugh like it was my own voice, felt his hands like they’d never left, saw his eyes, the way they’d adored me, as if they were a permanent stain in my memory.
But they weren’t.
All of it had faded, and it was my fault.
When the tub was full, I turned the faucet until the water ceased, and then I sank into it slowly. The tub was wide and deep, exactly how I’d always wanted — one that could cover every inch of me. My neck and head were the only things exposed, and I leaned back against the porcelain, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before they closed.
At first I thought of nothing, other than how good the hot water felt as it warmed me. It was nice, to exist in a blissful moment of warmth inside such a dark night that had left me so cold. But once my body adjusted to the warmth, my brain slowly sputtered back to life.
I thought of Cameron again, but that only ignited that zing inside my chest, so I pushed those thoughts away quickly. Nothing stuck for too long before I was moving on to the next thing — my lesson plans, what I wanted to do in the garden that weekend, what I needed to get started on for Mom’s fundraiser.
And somehow, before I knew it even happened, I was thinking about Reese.
Thoughts of him hit me quickly, and once they did, I was surprised I’d thought of him at all. Then again, I was also surprised it’d taken me this long. Something had shifted in me that night, standing at the fence that used to separate our homes. Reese was a bird landing softly in the rough seas of my life, seemingly out of place yet so confident and calm in his landing that it only made sense he belonged.
I’d smiled so much in one evening, truly smiled, that my cheeks ached.
And I’d also cried in his arms.
When his family was killed, I’d barely even told Cameron. It was after our own loss, and I wasn’t sure how he would handle me grieving over another one. So, I’d cried for Mallory alone, longed to reach out to Reese, knowing there was nothing I could say to make any of it better.
I knew, because there were no words that could heal a loss like that. There was only time, and time didn’t rush for anyone.
It almost hurt more that Reese didn’t hold anything against me, that he didn’t fault me for not reaching out to him. I hadn’t kept in touch with Mallory even before her death. I’d felt slighted by her leaving Mount Lebanon. She was two years older than me, and it was the only time in our friendship that I ever saw that as an issue. She was leaving, so was Reese, and I had to stay to finish high school without my two best friends.
It wasn’t until I’d met Cameron that I ever opened up to anyone else again.
I’d started crying in Reese’s arms thinking about Mallory, about his parents, but somewhere along the way I’d began crying for something else. It was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on — not until I was alone.
It was then that I finally realized it. Part of me was just crying at the way it felt to be held.
I’d almost forgotten.
The way his arms had wrapped around me, the comfort they’d brought, and the way his eyes had found mine when he pulled away — it had all left me breathless.
Reese wasn’t the same boy who’d left town fourteen years ago. He was older now, his hair longer, his chest wider, the muscles in his arms more pronounced. Still, just being around him brought me back to the sixteen-year-old girl I once was, to a time when the world only seemed like infinite possibility and joy to be discovered.
Before the water turned cold, I reached one hand between my tense thighs to relieve the ache there. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I found what I’d been so desperate for that evening.
So, I worked myself to a release, thinking of Cameron the entire time. I replayed our kiss, imagined what it would have felt like to have his hands on my body again, thought of how warm his muscles had been under my wandering hands.
Just before I came, another man snapped into my thoughts for one single second. It was just a flash, one that sent me spiraling, and when my orgasm faded and my breaths evened out, the image disappeared and guilt seeped in to take its place.
I flushed, hands running back through my wet hair as I shook my head in disbelief.
It’s just the alcohol, I assured myself. I couldn’t even be sure if I’d really imagined him at all, the impression fading quickly like sand washed by the sea. I stared at the smooth shoreline of my mind and willed it to show me something, anything, but it was tired — and so was I.
My eyes traveled up to the ceiling, and I kept them there, wondering who I was. Wondering if I was even anyone at all anymore.
Then I sank down farther and farther, holding my breath just as the hot water covered my nose. I let it wash away my sin like it’d never even happened.