Duke
My palm slaps the alarm clock radio on my bedside table. I stretch and churn until my arm grazes a warm body.
Who’s in my bed? I don’t let anyone stay the night. Ever.
Memories from last night flood in like a dam break. Charlotte.
With slow, precise movements, I look to the vixen beside me. Charlotte’s hair is wild, perfectly slept on like she’s gotten the best night’s sleep of her life. It’s fanned out over my pillow case. Damn, she looks beautiful in the morning. Like a fucking dream.
My fingers brush a bundle of hair on her cheek. She stirs, and I pull back, not wanting to wake her. She deserves to sleep soundly. The girl’s been through hell.
Guilt isn’t something I’m used to feeling. I fly through life making decisions for my own gain, not caring if I hurt others in the process. The decision we made last night has complicated things, but in the afterglow of being together, I can’t find any feeling of regret.
As if she senses me, Charlotte’s eyelids flutter open. An adorable blush covers her cheeks. Without skipping a beat, she cuddles into my side, placing her hand under the covers and tickling the top of my bare abs. Her smooth, lean legs mix between mine, and I sigh in relief like a pussy. Her skin against mine is miserably perfect. I shouldn’t want this, her, and here I lay, trailing my fingers down her spine. Up and down, up and down, until she shivers.
“That feels good.” Like kerosene on a fire, her mouth drips with satisfaction, lighting every nerve in me ablaze. Is she purring? Hello, morning wood.
The curve of Charlotte’s ass is something to admire. The soft mounds fit perfectly in my hand, like they’re made for me to grip.
“Can I ask why your alarm” —she sits up on her elbow, her nipple grazing my chest as she stretches to see the time— “is going off at nine in the morning?”
“I get up at the same time every day,” I admit. “And yes, I know how crazy that sounds.”
“Like you never sleep in?” She arches her back, cuddling in closer to my side.
“If I had you next to me every morning, I’d have a good reason to stay in bed.” I kiss her temple, and she smiles. Knowing it makes her happy forces me to do it again.
“If I had you next to me every morning, I’d probably never make it to class.” A slow, sexy as sin smirk spreads across her face. “Speaking of class, looks like I’ll be missing my nine o’clock lecture. You aren’t a good influence, Duke Anderson.”
“I’d have to agree. You’re capable of making me miss just about anything to see you sprawled out on my bed.” I comb my fingers through the ends of her soft hair.
“So, what do you do at nine in the morning every day?”
“I run.”
“For coffee?” Charlotte giggles.
My heart jolts, reminding me I’m very much alive beside the first girl who’s ever made me self-aware.
“No, for release.” I glance down at her, remembering the release we caused in each other last night. No one has ever stayed the night, but damn, she looks good here.
“Every morning?” She shudders at the thought. “Why would anyone choose to do that?”
“Some of us aren’t born with a perfect body.” I squeeze her thin waist line. She bashfully squirms. “Much like yourself.”
“Yeah, well, if that’s what you get” —her hands glide over my stomach— “then maybe I should start running, too.” She lifts the blanket, inspecting every dip and ripple. She looks at me like I’m the last glass of water on this Earth, and she’s dying of thirst. Charlotte’s lip tucks behind her teeth.
“Want to go with?” I carefully slip out from underneath her. A cool breeze hits my body, no longer cozied up next to her warm body, completely exposed and under her watch.
Charlotte tucks the blanket around her, shifting onto my pillow. The fact that she’s comfortable in my space sends a thrill throughout my body. I’ve never once wanted to see someone splayed out on my bed. Since I’ve lost my virginity, I’ve never gotten personal enough with someone to have them last until morning. Some may find it rude; I just see it as honest. I don’t have time for the morning after where we stumble through navigating the fact she wants breakfast, and I want her the hell out of my apartment.
Watching Charlotte wiggle under my navy comforter makes me want to bring her breakfast in bed. Not the half ass kind, like popping a strudel into the toaster, but the full spread. Pancakes. Bacon. Eggs.
“I want to make you breakfast.” I blurt true word vomit. What a fucking idiot I must sound like.
“What about your run?” She giggles sweetly, surprised by my honest outburst.
“Right.” I turn, my erection now at half mast, practically staring her in the eye, begging her to wrap her pretty, perky lips around the tip. Snap out of it. Don’t scare her away. “Do you want to go?”
Her head jerks up. “Go with you where?” Her expression morphs from delight to confusion.
“For a run.” I open the top drawer of my dresser and slide on a pair of boxer briefs. “What do you say?”
Charlotte throws the blanket off her body. She’s a slice of naked perfection I had the pleasure of being inside last night. Her eyes gaze playfully down at her lack of clothes, and she groans. “Damn, looks like I can’t go.” She may as well have snapped her fingers and said ‘aww shucks’.
With my hands planted on each side of her body, I drop slowly like a strained push-up, dipping my lips until they wrap around one of her nipples. I lift and catch her attention. Her eyes dance with fascination, eager to see what I’ll do to her body next. I lower again, not to neglect the other, and lick along the pebbled skin. She moans, and my briefs tighten.
“I’d like for you to run with me.” Run away with me. Run to me. I’d like her to do all those things, but for now, we’ll go with run with me.
“I don’t run,” she says as I stand to pull on a pair of shorts. She burrows under my blanket. “You can go without me. I’ll be here when you’re done.” Her eyes close, and she pretends to fall back to sleep. Her breathing is heavy like something is on her chest.
“As much as I’d love to see all your naked glory when I get back, I’d really like to show you something.” My voice is low and honest. Charlotte’s eyes open, tender and sweet.
She rises from the bed, the blanket tucked under her arms to hold it in place. Her slim arm grazes mine as I pull on a t-shirt. She stills and smirks.
“You’ll regret kicking me out of your bed to go for a run.” Like a damn ballerina, she glides out of my bedroom, dropping the puffy comforter to the floor. Her backside is on full display for me to appreciate. Her hips sway from side to side until she’s out of sight. She’s confident, unlike the girl I first encountered at the bar. I hope it’s me bringing her out of her shell.
Keep it together. Share a little something with her other than your dick.
I pocket my keys and head towards the front door to slip on my running shoes. She grabs her clothes off the couch and dresses. Sauntering to me with her shoes dangling from her fingers, she snatches her purse from my floor. I like the way her things look in my space. It’s something I think I could get used to.
In the truck, Charlotte grows silent. She was playful minutes ago, but maybe in the morning light, outside my apartment’s protective cover, it’s all raining down on her. The guilt. The worry. It’s enough to paralyze someone.
“It’s okay.” I cover her hand with mine. No, it’s not. I can’t have her regretting this.
Charlotte takes a loud, deep breath and faces me. Her fingers brush mine, and instead of backing away as I half expect from her mood change, she keeps them in place. All is not lost.
“Before we go for a run, can you take me to the hospital?” A blush colors her cheeks a gorgeous pink. She’s embarrassed for asking. The alpha in me wants to say no, but she looks at me with those big, electric eyes, and I know I’d do just about anything she asks, even when my heart is protesting.
I’ve been worried about how she feels about our night together. I haven’t even taken account of what I’ve done. He’s my fraternity brother, my friend, and I slept with his girl. At the red light, I cover my face with both hands, rubbing the tension burning behind my retinas.
Instead of making it harder on Charlotte, I straighten my back and clear my face of any emotion.
“Sure thing.” I take the next turn and head straight for the hospital. When I pull into a spot close to the door, I roll down my window to get a cool breeze on my face.
Charlotte sits with both legs in front of her and her hands rested on her thighs. She doesn’t move. There’s no true sign of life other than her chest expanding with every breath she takes. Her eyes cast towards the front entrance. My heart breaks when her bottom lip trembles.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispers, escaping from my truck.
Twenty minutes. One third of an hour. One thousand, two hundred seconds. It’s not a long time, but it’s vast enough to cause panic in my head. I don’t regret her. Not for one single second will I regret feeling her body beneath mine. The way she felt wrapped around me is my new favorite memory.
It’s no competition though, and deep down, I understand that simple fact. Jacob has already won. I’ll be the mistake she made that one night.
The passenger door creeks open, pulling me from my pity party.
“You ready to go?” she asks, combing her hair down with her fingertips.
Dumbfounded, I rest my forearms on the steering wheel.
“Are you okay?” I ask, desperate to know.
Her red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks break what is supposed to be my impenetrable heart. I’ve never worried about anyone else, but in this moment, all I want to do is take away every ounce of hurt Charlotte’s experiencing.
“Will you take me for that run?” Her voice is needy, yet somehow devoid of something I know should be there. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.
“Yeah.” I pull out of the parking lot and drive the short distance to Charlotte’s apartment.
The air is crisp, just how I like it for my morning runs. I step out of the truck and meet Charlotte on the sidewalk. She places a hand on my chest.
“I should go in alone.” She nods to the apartment. “Rachel is probably furious with me for not calling.”
“I’ll be right out here.” I smile. “Stretching.”
And it’s exactly what I do. I pull and strain until my muscles can’t handle the work any longer.
Ten minutes later, Rachel bounces down the walkway. A satisfied, amused smile forms when she witnesses me leaning against the hood of my truck. She’s a ball buster, and she’s not going to let me slide this morning.
“You keep her out all night to the point I worry and then you make her go for a run?” Rachel suggests, waving a finger in my face. “You don’t woo a girl by pissing off her best friend, then make her waste all her energy, unless you’re beneath some sheets.”
“Who said anything about wooing her?” I bark back, pushing off the metal grill.
“Did you really think my best friend wouldn’t tell me about you fucking her into submission?” She pats my chest and walks to a grey jeep resting in the shade, a cocky pep in her step.
“Why don’t you seem upset about whatever this is with Charlotte?” I call out to her.
She spins, assessing me. What she sees is a man on the verge of exploding from all these new, uncertain feelings. What she sees is someone being honest with himself for the first time, and maybe, just maybe this time, he may have been wrong about letting people in.
“Why don’t you tell me what this is, and I’ll give you an answer.” Her mischievous smile says it all. She’s rooting for me.
From the moment, Charlotte curled her lip at me at the bar until now, everything has tilted on its axis. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I know it’s not ideal, but when we are together, it’s right. When she touches me, it’s damn near perfection and something I’m not willing to let go of yet.
Rachel unlocks her doors and glances at me over her shoulder.
I call out to her, “I won’t apologize for feeling the way I do.”
“One thing you don’t know is how badly Charlotte needs someone to unapologetically adore her.”
“What about Jacob?” His name feels like a million needles poking at my spine.
She raises an eyebrow and waves. “Like I said, unapologetically.”
Rachel gets behind the wheel, pulls out of her space, and drives away, leaving me with a complete mind fuck from her words.
*****
“Just a little bit further.” I encourage Charlotte, placing a hand on her back as we make our way up the last large hill. “Not much farther.”
“Why did you take me up hills? I told you I don’t run, Duke,” she pants. “Are you trying to kill me?”
I slow my pace, and Charlotte adjusts her strides to match mine. When I come to a complete stop, she nearly collides into me. Sweat beads on her forehead, and her hair is in complete disarray, but damn, she’s beautiful.
“This is why.” I push the overgrown trees to the side, revealing what was my favorite view until I saw Charlotte quivering beneath me last night.
Charlotte’s jaw goes slack. A twinkle appears in her irises and grows brighter with every step she takes inside my sanctuary. This is my hideaway when I need a minute to myself, my quiet space when the rest of the world is too loud, and now, I’m sharing it with her. I’m sharing it with her. The reality isn’t lost on me.
“What is this?” Charlotte runs her fingers along the cement walls. They’re splattered with what the rest of the world knows as graffiti, but I appreciate as art.
“I suppose it used to be a skate park, of some sort. No one uses it for that, except maybe some kids every once in a while. Most days it’s empty, so I can only assume whoever does this” —I trace the words scrolled in front of us— “does it at night.”
“And then the wind brushed through her hair and blew away our memories,” Charlotte reads the words written in bright pink spray paint. Shock riddles her face. “Why do you come here? I mean of all the places to run, why here?” Charlotte’s hands spread wide in question.
“These words are delicately chosen. You can sense their truth and, perhaps, their lies, but something never fades away. The beauty of someone else’s observation of the world.” She runs her hand over the large letters spelling out L-O-V-E as I speak. “The way they see it is different than anyone else.”
“You aren’t who you pretend to be.” Charlotte steps to me. “This version of you standing in front of me is nothing like the guy everyone else knows.”
“I don’t know.” I gulp down breaths to stay quiet. She’s so sure of who she thinks I am, I can’t imagine disappointing her.
Charlotte’s excited expression takes in every word spray painted in front of us. Minutes pass as she soaks it all in. “Which one is your favorite?” She’s genuine and refreshing as hell. I’ve never known anyone worthy of sharing this place until her.
I smile at her question and wave to the far corner. Charlotte walks behind me, but as I stop, she comes to my side.
“Dr. Seuss?” Charlotte giggles, tucking her arm through mine and resting that beautiful face of hers against my bicep. She moves around me like we’re old friends, familiar and genuine.
“It’s the only book I ever remember my mom reading to me.” I back away and catch Charlotte’s eyes dancing from the quote to me. Maybe she’s right. I am different with her than I am with everyone else. I want her to savor me and come back for seconds. I’m desperate for her approval and understanding.
“This is your contribution to this beautiful mess.” Charlotte doesn’t say anything else. A simple acknowledgement of what I’ve written is enough for both of us. A tingle dances down my arm. Her hand finds mine, and we silently walk back. Everything is too heavy on my shoulders to run.