Charlie fucking Bates does not listen.
At all.
He didn’t take a hint that I wasn’t into him, or my threatening assault, because like clockwork, he comes to my door with that damn pizza. And, like the other nights, I don’t answer. But unlike me, Charlie fucking Bates has sex appeal and somehow gets the maid to open our connecting door.
And he doesn’t care I’m lying in bed, or that I’m staring at him about to punch him for a second time. He simply tosses the pizza on the floor and starts taking off his shirt! My mouth is hanging open, shocked at the way he thinks he can just come in here and get what he wants, is appalling to me! Even when he crawls up my bed and starts spreading kisses up my legs, tugging me out of my pajama shorts, you know what I do? I LET HIM!
I hate Charlie Bates.
I hate that, for another night, I allow him to take me to a whole other level of orgasm. I allow him to toss me against the wall and fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before, until he has me screaming his name. He takes me in the shower while using the shower head to clean me off, and then get me off, before fucking me until his name is pure whispers on my hoarse throat. And when he’s done drying me, he lays me on the bed and fucking talks to me! He talks to me and tells me about himself. Personal stuff I want to scratch out of my memory because he’s making himself less the model and more a real person with real views and aspirations and making me realize just how much I misjudged him.
He just wouldn’t stop.
But strangely, I also wasn’t stopping him.
“That’s my mom. My sisters and I surprised her for her sixtieth birthday. As you can see, that’s where I get my dashing smile from.” He offers me a sample, showing his perfect set of teeth.
I decide not to mention he has oregano in his front tooth because, let’s be honest, I need a reason to fault him and I’m starting to struggle to find one. We’re sitting on my bed facing one another Indian style, with an open box of pizza separating us. He’s been swiping for the past thirty minutes, giving me a photo breakdown of each picture on his phone. “This is Ellie, my dog. I’ll have to be honest right off the bat, she’s my one true love. So, any girl”—he wiggles his brows at me—“would have to settle for being number two.”
I take another huge bite of gooey goodness. “You have a weird fetish and plan on marrying a dog. Got it.”
He reaches over and nudges me, causing me to let out a laugh. Embarrassingly, I spit out a piece of pizza in the process.
“Oops,” I say wiping at my jeans.
“Here, let me get that.” With his thumb, he gently wipes the smeared pizza sauce off my chin. His movement is slow. He doesn’t need to take this long. Our eyes catch. “You shouldn’t waste pizza like that. It’s a written rule.” His thumb brushes along my bottom lip. I’ve gone mute, no sly comeback ready to fall from my mouth. His finger is slow and calculated as it slides with ease across my lip, smearing the excess sauce. I’m frozen in place, completely unsure of what to do. My heartrate is picking up. His touch is lethal, and even more so are his searing eyes as they calculate what I’m thinking. What am I thinking? That pizza sauce has never been such a turn on.
“There.” He pulls his finger away from my mouth. Hopefully not because I looked like I was about to chomp it off. “Simple lick of the lips and nothing’s gone to waste.”
I fight. And I fight. I tell myself not to do it. But it’s impossible. I do it.
I lick my lips.
And it is the hottest lick of pizza sauce I have ever tasted.
“Jesus, I, uh, I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom real quick.”
Charlie is up and doing a poor job of hiding the bulge in his pants. Almost falling off the bed trying to throw his legs down, he stumbles to the bathroom, shutting the door and instantly runs the faucet.
When he finally comes back looking less strained, he suckers me into talking about myself. I tell him about the bar, about the book, and about Gerdie, my bird. He tells me Ellie and Gerdie would get along great if they ever met and then he tells me how he got into cover modeling on a whim.
The more this went on, the more I found myself letting him in. And I wasn’t sure if I loved it or hated it. Each night, the small talk got longer. Deeper. He was sharing story after story, whereas I found myself doing the same. It was as if we were becoming something more than just what we were. And what the hell were we? I just didn’t want to fool myself. Become that statistic I’ve spent half my life fighting against. Charlie Bates was perfect. I was just, well, me.
I knew we’d never work outside our little hotel room bubble. And that was just a fact. I don’t even know why I bother even thinking about that. It’s not like we’ve spoken a single word about us, or what happens in two days when the signing is over and we go our separate ways. And maybe it’s better that way.
Maybe I’m just trying to mask the real issue here, which is that I’ve fallen for someone like Charlie. But have I fallen for him? He’s hot, and damn does he know what to do with his hands, his tongue, and his golden dick, but still. That’s sexual. It’s probably just me latching on to something I have never really had before.
But with Charlie it’s not only sex, it’s also friendship. He’s like an endless pit of conversation. He doesn’t just get up and leave once we’re done. He stays, and I can’t believe I’m using the word, but cuddles! He continues to tell me stories about his friends, his work, and his family. His likes and dislikes. And there I am right next to him sharing the same stuff. It’s like we know each other on a whole deeper level.
And I don’t know whether that scares me, excites me, or pisses me off. Because in two days, I go home. And then what? Am I that thick-skinned girl who came here saying I could just take a dip on the wild side and walk away unfazed?
I don’t think I can.
And that’s why I need to cut ties and leave.
We’re finishing up our last night on the tour. Our final author dinner is tonight, and then once we wrap up our promo interviews in the morning, we are free to go. I’ve tried to avoid Charlie all day because I just want to make it easier on myself when we go our separate ways. I know he’s catching on because his smile isn’t fully reaching his eyes. The first postcard that came my way, said, “What’s wrong, Swan?” When I tossed that in the garbage, the next one came. “Do you want me to turn that frown upside down tonight?” Another one tossed.
The next one was a drawing of a stick figure—two stick figures may I add—and it looked like they were doing the spider on a swing set. Okay, fine, he got me there. I smiled and turned to him, giving him the “really?” look. His return smile, of course, was infectious, and I settled to just let it go. Let us have our last night.
We’ve been at dinner for over two hours now, which finally seems to be wrapping up. Charlie chose to sit exactly across from me, I’m sure to mess with me the whole time. Kristen is next to me, which doesn’t help since she keeps catching his googly eyes at me.
“Is there something going on between you and Charlie Bates?” She leans in, whispering.
I give her my best ‘pfft’ face. “Ew. No, why? Like I’m even his type.”
She looks at me, but I refuse to look back. “Well, for starters he keeps staring at you like you’re tonight’s dessert.”
I lift my head, making the mistake of looking at Charlie, and of course he winks at me and offers up that damn fucking smile. Turning away, I lift my hand, catching the waitress for another drink. “First off. I have no idea what’s wrong with that guy. Maybe he has Tourette’s. Facial twitching. Probably from all that fake smiling he does all day.”
Kristen doesn’t seem to accept my answer, continuing, “It’s just… kinda strange how you both were missing the other day and not to mention you two during the signing. Are you sure there’s not something you want to tell me?”
I take a sip of my current drink, looking anywhere but in front of me and next to me. Too bad I look to the other side, which is some knock-out blonde pulling her shirt down, trying to get Charlie’s attention.
I sigh.
Then groan.
Then slam the rest of my drink.
I can’t take much more of Kristen’s interrogation, Charlie’s googly eyes, or the thunder cat next to me. I get up, startling the girl next to me. I turn to Kristen. “Sorry, I’m just really tired and I need to pack. I’ll catch you tomorrow before my interviews to say goodbye.” I lean in and give my longtime friend a hug, who’s now also confused by my abrupt exit, and before Charlie can nonchalantly try and stop me, I take off.
I hit the elevator button. “Hurry, hurry, hurry…” It dings and I jump in, jabbing my floor number. Just as the door shuts, a large set of hands stops the door and Charlie jumps in.
“Oh, how nice, you waited for me. All those sexual passes you were making at me during dinner, I thought you would never get up and leave. Your room or mine tonight?”
I look at Charlie, not feeling his laid-back sense of humor. I’m not even in the mood to pretend I’m okay with our situation anymore. Sometimes there’s that elephant in the room and it just gets so big, you have to acknowledge it or leave. Since I’m a wimp, I’m choosing to leave.
“Sorry, Bates, I’m really tired. You’re gonna have to be a big boy and sleep in your own room tonight.” The elevator dings and I get out, leaving him behind.
He follows closely behind. We make it to my door, and I insert my key as he bends forward, his breath hitting my cheek. “Can I come in now or shall I enter through my secret passageway?”
I open my door and walk in. I don’t hold the door. “Good night, Bates.” And it shuts. I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing he were more of the jerk I originally pinned him to be. Wasn’t so kind and easygoing, making this harder for me to cut ties.
I make it past the television stand before the connecting door opens. I turn to tell him to beat it, but he’s on me, lifting me up and carrying me to the bed.
“Get out of your head, Bailey Swan.” He kisses my lips quick, then drops me.
I bounce on the bed, and before I have a chance to start yelling he pounces. His lips cover mine, stopping any sort of hissy fit I’m about to have. His kiss is rough. Almost bruising. As if he’s getting angry with me. I get angry wanting to know what the hell he could be angry with me about. I bring my hands into his hair and pull, knowing I’m hurting him, but he doesn’t even stop me. He lifts my shirt and tears his mouth off mine and brings it around my breast. One clamp, and he bites my fucking nipple!
“Ouch!” I wail, pulling at his hair to release me. “What the fuck, Bates!”
“Yeah, what the fuck, Swan? Why are you suddenly shutting down on me? I can see it. You hardly looked my way at dinner. I saved you a seat and you sat on the opposite side!”
“Because it would’ve been obvious! Plus, I wouldn’t want any of your groupies to know. It might ruin your image to think you were with someone.”
His eyebrows shoot up, that playful smile back on his face “Oh, I’m with someone?”
Shit, how did that come out of my mouth? “Oh, you know what I mean. Being caught with someone like me. I might ruin your image.”
His eyes now look wounded. “Why do you do that? Why do you always talk so down about yourself? You’re fucking beautiful, Bailey. You’re perfect. Why don’t you see that?”
Because I’m nothing next to him. I’ve never been anything but just plain ole me. And us together would always make me a laughing stock. I would be the whispered gossip. The joke who caught the eyes of the beautiful Charlie Bates.
“Stop. Just stop, okay? Get out of your head.” He bends down, and this time his lips are gentler. I allow him to take mine and suckle them. Our tongues meet and we embrace in something that’s more than just a kiss. It’s unspoken words. Maybe he’s telling me it’s okay. Maybe this is his way of also saying goodbye. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us, despite all my reservations. But my heart is going to heave the wrath of this very bad decision. And I can already feel it.
I wrap my arms around his neck and increase the pressure of our kiss. I lift my pelvis, connecting with his already hard cock, and we both moan. The silent moment is broken and we both lose it. Our control breaks and it’s both of our hands ripping at one another, trying to free ourselves of our clothes. The need for skin on skin contact is unbearable, and the second we’re both free, he positions himself between my legs and pushes in.
A careless moment lost on both of us, but we don’t stop. This is not slow and sexual. It’s primal. We fuck and we fuck. Pulling, biting, words of passion, and lust filling the air. We take everything we can from one another until the sun breaks through the blinds and our bodies can take no more.
We don’t speak when the alarm goes off, or when he sneaks back into his room to shower. Nor do I say a word when I throw my things into my suitcase and leave without saying goodbye.
I know Kristen’s going to be ticked with me for ditching out on the interviews, but I’m sure I can do them through email. I check out over the phone on the way to the airport and offer to pay the shipping for half the shit I left in the room so I could jump ship. I bitch at the cab driver for his air freshener that makes my eyes water and blame the awful steak from last night on why my chest fucking hurts. I knew I shouldn’t have done this tour. I know nothing about love and romance and all that sappy shit. I just know why it’s bad. And why women should stop falling for it. I’m mad at myself for feeling vulnerable and letting Charlie see a side of me I’ve never really shown anyone. A side I never knew worked. I’m mad at myself for being a coward and leaving like I did. I could have at least said goodbye. He never promised me anything, but he also didn’t lead me to believe I was just a hookup either.
To be honest, I don’t know what I was. Maybe just a fool. I trudge with my suitcase through the airport, sucking in deep breaths because for some reason I feel like I’m about to cry and I know if I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. “It’s because I feel so bad I left Kristen like that,” I say out loud. Pulling out my ticket, I bend down to search for my license.
“Katie Beller!”
I hear my name being yelled behind me.
“Katie Beller!”
Again, there it is. I stand and turn, surprised to see Charlie running through the airport. He makes it up to me and stops, trying to catch his breath. “Katie Beller,” he says as he sticks out his hand.
“How… how did you know my name?”
“Kristen sold you out. Katie, my name is Chase Green. My real name. Green like the color, Chase like what I just had to do to catch you.” He grabs for my hand and shakes it for the both of us since I’ve gone into shock.
“Katie Beller, I want to get to know you. All of you. I’ve gotten to spend an amazing two weeks with Bailey Swan, and now I want Katie. The real Katie. I might not be your normal type, and fuck, maybe you’re not mine. But you’re something I want more of. Not just the way you bite and scream my name.”
I swat at him, turning a deep shade of red. We obviously have a crowd and at his words people gasp and awe.
“Jesus, Bates, what are you doing?”
“It’s Green, actually. But I would like for you to call me Chase. Because that’s who I really am. And I would like to call you Katie. Can I call you Katie?”
My fucking lips keep twitching, and that crying thing I was talking about earlier is seriously going to happen. I can’t speak, so I slowly nod.
“Great. Great,” he says, looking relieved. He hands me a piece of paper and it looks like a goddamn “in case of emergency” contact list.
“This is every single way you can get ahold of me. I know you have reservations about us. And I get it. But I want a chance. I won’t push you. I get it. But God, do I want you. Let me in. Let me get to know you and show you that what we started can be something pretty fucking amazing.”
I swear, if anyone’s taking photos and catches me crying I’ll kill them. I swipe the tears running down my cheek, the smile slowly making its way across my face. I look at Chase Green, and I see something beautiful in him. Trust.
I take a deep breath. “Okay, Chase Green, I’ll get to know you.”
Chase’s face lights up and he goes in for the kill, offering me his perfect, beautiful lips. The crowd around us erupts into cheers and clapping.
“Excuse me, sir, but you’re holding up the line. Buy a ticket or step off to the side.” The security guard breaks our connection, and we pull apart.
Staring at one another, Chase steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, all of a sudden looking nervous. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Katie Beller. I look forward to your call.”
I smile back, feeling just as nervous. “And you as well, Chase Green, like the color. I guess I’ll be giving you a call sometime.”
His mischievous smile returns. “FaceTime works too. So I can see what you’re doing with your hands.”
Go figure. Never without his wit and charm.
“Goodbye, Chase Green.”
“Till that call, Katie Beller.”