Pants.
Pants would be good here. I reached for mine as Charlie picked up the trash.
“I’ll be right back,” Charlie said, heading out of the room. I heard the back door being unlocked and figured he was disposing of everything in the dumpsters behind the building. He was gone longer than necessary, in my opinion, and I wondered if he was out there berating or congratulating himself. Was he sorry things had gotten out of control again? Jesus, I hoped not. How embarrassing if he came back in here and apologized! And then what would I say? Sorry I sat on your face like that?
A second later I heard the door open again. I fastened my bra and stood up too fast, grabbing the barre when my vision clouded. I stayed still as the fog cleared.
“Everything OK?” Charlie’s voice came from behind me.
“I already said it was.”
“I know, but you’re standing there holding onto that barre for dear life. I know I’m good, but I don’t think I’ve ever paralyzed a woman before.”
I gave him a dirty look over my shoulder. “I’m not paralyzed. I’m just dizzy. I got up too fast.”
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Listen, Erin…” He jingled his keys in his hands, and I turned to face him.
Oh no. Please don’t apologize, Charlie. I will die.
“I don’t want you to think that I just came back here tonight to, uh, fool around with you.”
“Oh, thank God.” My shoulders relaxed. “I thought you were going to say you were sorry.”
His eyes widened. “Sorry? No, I’m not sorry at all. Are you sorry?”
“No. I’m not. I mean, I don’t really get what we’re doing with each other, but…” I ran a thumbnail along the barre, scraping at some nail polish someone had gotten on it. “I’m not sorry.”
“I don’t really get it either.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “There’s just something about you. And when you came on to me like that…”
I gaped at him. “Wait, you’re blaming me? After ditching your date and showing up here at eleven o’clock at night with takeout and beer?”
“Calm down, I’m not blaming anyone. I just meant that I don’t usually go for your type.”
I continued to gawk at him, finally placing a hand to my chest. “I’m not your type? Ha!”
“No, not really.”
“And what’s your type exactly?”
He shrugged. “It’s not a looks thing. You’re gorgeous, I’ve already told you that much. It’s more of a…compatibility thing.”
“Aha. I see. We’re not compatible.” I bent down and tugged on my sneakers, my face on fire. Was he breaking up with me before we even had one real date? What an asshole! “I definitely think you’re right about that. We are not compatible at all.”
“Oh good, you agree.” He sounded relieved.
“I do indeed. But I’m curious.” Straightening, I stuck my hands on my hips. “What exactly is it about me that you find so repellent?”
“I don’t find you repellent. It’s just…you know. You’re a nice girl, a relationship kind of girl. And I’m not that kind of guy.”
“I know you’re not. Because you told me that the first time you came over. And I’m pretty sure I haven’t done or said one thing since then that would lead you to believe I want a relationship with you.”
“No,” he admitted. “You haven’t.”
“Good. Because I don’t, far from it. So stop making me feel like you’re letting me down easy or something.”
“I’m not doing that at all, Erin. I’m just trying to be honest. Look, this has happened to me before, where I sleep with a girl I’m friends with and she swears it’s cool but then she ends up getting all attached to me and I look like a big asshole when she wants more from me than I can give.”
“More than you can give? Or more than you’re willing to give?” I have no idea why I asked that. It wasn’t like I was interested.
Much.
He sighed. “More than I’m capable of giving at this point in my life.”
I stuck out my lower lip. “Poor Charlie. His magic dick makes women fall in love with him but he’s incapable of feeling.”
He looked offended. “I didn’t say I was incapable of feeling—I said I couldn’t offer more than…friendly relations every now and again. And you forgot about my magic tongue.”
My thigh muscles twitched. I’d never forget about his magic tongue, not for a thousand years. That was why I had to take a step back, get some lights on in here. “Well, either way,” I said, heading for the door. “You don’t have to worry about me getting attached. You’re not my type, either.” Flipping every switch up, I squinted at the sudden brightness.
“Oh no?” Charlie leaned back against the barre, crossing his legs at the ankle. “What type is that? I’m just curious. Wait, let me guess. Suit and tie, or maybe a lab coat. Yeah, that’s it—a doctor. He drives a shiny black Lexus, the inside of which is impeccable. No crumbs, no coffee spills, no To Go cups tossed on the floor in the back seat.”
I ignored him and picked up a hammer, going to work on the strip of oak along the back wall. I’d planned on finishing the tear-out tomorrow, but suddenly I felt like smashing and destroying something. Or everything. Charlie took my silence as confirmation he was right about my dream man, or at least as an indication that he was close enough for me to be annoyed.
Confession: He was close enough for me to be annoyed.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” He went on, delighted with himself, speaking louder over the noise I made with the hammer. “And he takes you on dates to the ballet or the Opera House, after which you have dinner at the Whitney, where he saves someone from choking with the Heimlich maneuver or maybe delivers a baby in the parking lot without getting even a speck of blood on his silk tie with the Eldredge knot.”
Bang! Bang! Bang! I hammered away at the solid oak like it was Charlie’s chiseled abs. Shut the hell up, Charlie Dwyer! What would you know about the Eldredge knot!? Do you even own a tie?
“Of course, Dr. Perfect is handsome and charming and everyone adores him—women sigh when he walks by. But he only has eyes for you, and one day he whisks you away to Paris and there on the top of the Eiffel Tower, he gets down on one knee and proposes with a great big shiny twenty-five carat diamond—the cleanest, the purest diamond known to man.”
Seriously, this doctor man was sounding better and better by the minute, which only made me madder. I dropped the hammer and picked up the crowbar, trying to pry a stubborn plank.
Crack! The oak split when I pulled hard enough, sending me toppling back onto my bottom. Charlie was there in two quick steps to pull me up. “You OK?”
“I’m fine, really. Go on with your story. Sounds like you’re about to get to the good part. How’s the doctor in the sack?” I was a little out of breath from the labor and from the boiling anger I felt at Charlie. Which was stupid, really. He was saying things I already knew, at least where he and I were concerned. There was no we. There could never be a we.
There was him and there was me, and there was what we’d just done, and I was starting to question my judgment on that.
“In the sack?” Charlie held on to my arm and tilted his head side to side. “He’s so-so. Good enough to keep you satisfied, but not good enough to erase from your memory that one amazing night you were handcuffed to the barre.”
“My God, Charlie. The size of your ego is truly staggering.”
He grinned. “The size of my what?”
“You heard me. Now let go. I have to finish this.”
“Leave it, let’s finish tomorrow. I told you I’d come help again.”
“Ha!” I shrugged him off. “From now on, I’m declining all offers of help from you.”
“Come on. What happened here tonight was a one-time thing. And now it’s out of our systems, right? We can be friends.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“This won’t happen again. I promise.”
“What good is your promise to me? I barely know you.” I picked up my hammer again.
“Look, Erin, I know you think I’m an asshole, and maybe I am, but I like hanging out with you. You make me laugh.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really. So I should let you hang around just to laugh at me?”
“With you, not at you. Come on, you like me. I make you laugh too.”
I shrugged. “Maybe you do. Sometimes.”
“See? That’s why I know we shouldn’t sleep together again. We’ll ruin something nice.”
Hadn’t we ruined it already? Charlie didn’t seem to think so, but would I be able to handle just hanging out casually with someone whose tongue was all up in my business? I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t exactly trust Charlie to keep his hands to himself.
And he shouldn’t trust me, either.
“You really want to be friends?” I searched his face.
“Yes. Look.” He ruffled his hair again, which I now realized was his nervous gesture. “I’ve made some really bad decisions in the past. With relationships, I mean. I screwed up with every nice girl I ever dated, and I learned some hard lessons. There’s things you don’t know about me.”
“Oooooooh.” I balled my hands into fists under my chin and shivered. “Charlie has a past.”
He didn’t smile. “Just trust me when I say that you don’t want me anyway. Not like that. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”
He was right. It just stunk that the physical connection was so intense. “At least you’re honest.”
“I try.”
“Except when you’re holding up lemonade stands with squirt guns.”
He gave me The Smile. “Except for then.”
Groaning, I tossed the hammer down again. “Ugh, I can’t resist the dimples. Fine, you can help me finish this up tonight. But no more fooling around—and not because I’ll start pining for you or anything, but because I’m not really into casual sex.”
“Except when you’re handcuffed to the barre.”
My cheeks got warm. “Except for then.”
“All right. So we agree to be friends, help each other out sometimes.”
“And no more sex.” I said it again, to be sure he understood the boundary. “This was just an anomaly. Like you said, it’s out of our systems.”
“Exactly. And we both know I’m always right.”
I slugged him in the stomach. “Get to work already. It’s after midnight and you tired me out.”
In less than half an hour, we finished the job and stood next to each other beside a huge scrap pile in the center of the room. “Do you have a dumpster coming?” Charlie asked, pulling his gloves off.
“Yes, on Friday. I wouldn’t have thought of it, but Nick did.”
“Who’s Nick? Another pretend boyfriend?” He bumped me with his hip.
“Haha. No, he’s the fiancé of my friend Coco. The one you met at my house the night of the burglary. They’re actually getting married next month.”
“Right. Dark hair. Big…” He grinned sideways at me. “Smile.”
“Come on, you can say it. Boobs. You noticed her boobs, everyone does.” Turning away under the guise of gathering up the tools, I tried to ignore the zing of jealousy that shot through me. Not even the pushiest of push-up bras would give me the kind of luscious curves Coco had up top.
“Well, I was gonna say tits, but actually I think I’ll stick with smile.”
“Why? Don’t tell me you’re not fascinated by big boobs. All men are.”
“Not true.” Charlie tossed his gloves and hammer into his toolbox before kicking it shut. “I don’t have anything against them, but I don’t have a preference for them either. I think yours are perfect, so you don’t have to get all annoyed with me.”
“I wasn’t getting annoyed.” I was, but his compliment took the edge off. “Just stating a fact: Coco has big yummy breasts.”
“You’ve tasted them? Because I am fascinated by that.”
I gave him a flat look. “I meant, she has voluptuous curves that most men drool over and up-and-down girls like me envy.”
“I know plenty of women who would envy your cute little ass too, so it goes both ways.”
He thinks my small ass is cute. “Thanks. I guess it does.”
“I’m surprised they agreed to bring a dumpster here the day after Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, yeah. Nick called in a favor. Some kind of Italian thing.”
He nodded. “That explains it. Are we done here?”
We were, although I almost wished I hadn’t insisted on finishing tonight. When would I see him again? In that moment I found myself wishing a few things, actually—I wished he weren’t so handsome and funny. I wished we weren’t so different. I wished we didn’t have the spark. I wished I had the nerve to say fuck compatibility—you and I could be good together. Tell me your secrets. I’ll tell you mine. Let’s take a chance.
But I held my tongue and nodded.
After I locked up the studio, Charlie walked me to my car. It felt as if the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees in the last few hours, and I shivered. “Brrr. Is it supposed to snow tonight?”
“I think so. Roads will probably be bad tomorrow.”
“You working?”
“Just half a day. I’m not traffic, though.”
“Will you get Thanksgiving dinner somewhere?” I wrapped my arms around myself, hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm.
He shrugged. “Somewhere. I have to go see my granddad. Maybe we’ll go out.”
On the tip of my tongue was an invitation to come to my mother’s house, but I thought I better not. Family holidays were probably reserved for compatible people. “Well. Thanks for helping me,” I said, my breath frosting the air.
“You’re welcome.” Charlie pointed his nose at my car. “Go on, get in. It’s cold.”
Seriously? Not even a hug? Sheesh, he really was afraid of sending the wrong message. Taking a page from his book, I decided to mess with him a little. Rising on tiptoe, I threw my arms around him, tight, pressing my chest and stomach against his. “I mean it. I’m really grateful for what you did.”
He gave me a quick squeeze around the middle and let go, but I didn’t.
“Wow, you’re so warm,” I said, lifting my chin to whisper breathy words in his ear. His body stiffened, making me smile. “And so big and strong and handsome. And you give such good hugs—I can’t help myself. I’m totally attached to you. I can’t let go! Marry me, Charlie Dwyer! Tonight! I want to have your babies!” As my voice rose I got more dramatic, clinging to him, jumping up and down, dangling from his neck like a baby chimp.
“Very funny.”
Laughing, I straightened up and released him. “Scare you for a minute?”
“For a second, maybe.”
“Good. You deserved it. You can give me a hug, you know. I won’t expect a ring next Tuesday because of it.”
He held up his hands. “OK, OK. I confess, I tend to be uncomfortable with gestures of affection.”
“So for you, physical contact is sexual or nothing?”
“Pretty much.”
I shook my head. “Jesus, Charlie. You’re such an asshole.”
He tugged on my hair. “For a girl who doesn’t swear, you swear a lot.”
“Guess you bring out the devil in me.”
He laughed. “I’d say that’s mutual. So you better get in the car. You have my number, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Call if you need help laying the new floor.”
“OK. Night.”
“Night.”
Charlie waited until I pulled out to get into his car, which had been parked next to mine. Not a shiny black Lexus, but a nice enough silver Honda, which did not appear to have litter in the back seat (I checked).
As I drove home, I was torn between being glad we’d agreed on the no-more-sex thing, and feeling a little disappointed I wouldn’t experience the things that Charlie made me feel again. That sense of abandonment, feeling free to do or say wicked naughty things because someone else was prompting me. But that was silly—surely there were other men out there who’d bring out the devil in me, weren’t there? Men with less ego and more heart? Men who were interested in that kind of sex but also a relationship? There had to be. And if he drove a Lexus and took me to the opera and flew me to Paris to propose, all the better.
Yes, I’d say.
Yes, yes, yes.
Which is exactly what I said the following morning in bed, when I fantasized that Charlie came over to surprise me, found my door unlocked, and came upstairs to punish me for it.
Although after the real thing, even the Naughty Rabbit felt a little less impressive.
Damn him. What the hell was I supposed to do about that?