Chapter 7
Charlie
My phone starts ringing on the bathroom counter just as I’m stepping out of the shower. I wipe water from my eyes and glance down at the screen. Nova’s phone number blinks up at me.
My cock twitches and I glare down at it as I wrap a towel around my waist. He and I have a serious communication issue when it comes to Nova. He just can’t seem to come to grips with the fact that she isn’t an option for him.
I clear my throat and force my voice to stay neutral. “Hey.” I balance the phone between my cheek and my shoulder.
“I'm taking a public opinion poll on a very important topic,” she tells me in a no-nonsense voice.
I try to play dumb. “How did you get this number?!” I tease in a suspicious tone reserved for telemarketers and those annoying people who call at the most inconvenient times with phone surveys.
She snickers quickly then tries to sound solemn. “Ultra serious matter here, Charlie. Stop joking around.”
I lean against the thick marble countertop and grin at the sound of her voice. I heave an exaggerated sigh. “Go for it.” I wait impatiently for her ‘ultra serious’ question.
“Do sliced olives sprinkled with ranch dressing count as salad?”
A laugh cracks through my chest. I can hear a cupboard slam shut and then the jangle of the refrigerator door being pulled open. I imagine her rummaging around in search of something to eat. “Nova, who left you unsupervised in the kitchen again?”
She’s laughing, too. “I dropped my dinner on the front porch. Then I had to clean it up and now, I am absolutely starving. And the only thing I have in my fridge is half a jar of sliced olives and a bottle of salad dressing. Well, aside from the eggs but they expired three months ago. So, again—do olives with salad dressing count as salad?”
The memory of that time Nova cooked me dinner floods into my mind. I’ll never forget it. There were at least 36 hours of gastrointestinal fireworks for all parties involved.
“Just come over. I’ll make you a grilled cheese.” I had a late lunch and I wasn’t planning on making myself dinner tonight but friends don’t let friends get salmonella poisoning.
“Charlie—you don’t have to…” She sounds absolutely insincere, far too sugary.
“Nova, come over,” I say firmly.
Her voice goes coy although I can hear her grinning gleefully. “If you insist…Warm up the griddle, baby. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
God—I love that spark in her. That mischief. I love that she’s a bit of a delinquent.
The corners of my lips curve upward. “See you in 15 minutes.”
“And Charlie…” Her tone is grave, serious.
“Yes?”
“Make sure to cut the crusts off, okay?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
I’m grinning like a puberty-stricken fool with a crush as I throw on some sweatpants with a T-shirt. I pad across the smooth hardwood floor of my bachelor pad into the kitchen and do a quick tidy-up, putting away the dishes and wiping down the counters. Then, I pull out the bread and sliced cheese and start slapping sandwiches together as the griddle pan warms up. And yes, I cut off the crusts because that damn girl can get me to do anything.
I was planning to drive into town tonight. Hit a bar. Find a girl who’s looking for some trouble. But the chance to spend the evening hanging out with Nova has me pushing all my other plans aside. Normally, I’d think that it’s a waste of time to brush off a guaranteed lay in favor of hanging out with a girl I’ll never have sex with but this is Nova we’re talking about. Being around her just makes me feel good.
In no time, I hear the doorbell and I glide down the hall with a grin on my face. I swing the door open and the wind gets knocked out of me. Damn! I’ve known this girl forever, still the sight of her always makes it a little hard to breathe.
She’s wearing denim shorts that show off her bronzed legs with a flowy jersey top sliding off of her shoulders. Her canvas backpack is clenched in her fingers. She is blissful chaotic perfection from the big, sexy mess of curls on her head to the chipped green nail polish on her flip-flop-wearing feet.
“You’ve got red paint on your chin.” I wet my thumb in my mouth then swipe it across her jawbone.
For a fraction of a moment, she freezes and watches me with wide, wanting eyes. A shiver runs through her. Then, she snaps out of it and swaps my hand away.
“It’s already on the stove? I can smell it.” Her lips quirk into a goofy smile.
Awareness prods my cock as she edges by me and kicks off her slippers on the mat. Her sweet light perfume grabs hold of me and I follow after her like a bee chasing the scent of lavender. She bounces down the hall, headed straight for the kitchen.
She leans over the stove as I come up behind her with a spatula in hand. I resist the urge to flog her with it and instead, I flip the sandwiches over. She groans as she peers at the golden, toasted bread. “Aw, man. You’re making my mouth water, Charlie.”
My gaze falls on her ass and rolls down the backs of her thighs. So smooth and shapely. God, I want them wrapped around my neck. You’re making my mouth water…
And in a related development, my cock is now incredibly hard.
Her gaze snaps over to me and again, I fail to avert my eyes in time. Our eyes hold for one heated second before she turns away.
These moments are becoming a regular occurrence. Ever since Reese and Leo started shacking up, I’ve been seeing a lot more of Nova. Not that I’m complaining. I’m enjoying it. I just don’t know how much longer I can play the role of the friend zone guy before I push her down on the nearest horizontal surface and do something that will change our friendship irreparably.
The situation is a tinderbox and my unrelenting lust is the spark that will blow this whole thing up.
“I’m in the mood for hot chocolate,” I tell her, shifting attention away from my guilty desires.
“Oh that sounds good!” she grins as she slides onto a chair at the island.
She pulls out her sketchpad and pencil as I work on the sandwiches and hot cocoa. I could complain that she hasn’t lifted a finger to help but she’s a disaster in the kitchen. Plus, I sort of like cooking for her. I won’t pretend to be some master chef but I handle the basics far better than she does.
Her phone beeps and she picks it up, snickering to herself as she reads whatever is on the screen. Something sort of like jealousy grows in my chest. It tightens along my insides. I silently wonder who might be messaging her. Could it be some guy?
But the next words out of her mouth set my mind at ease. She glances up at me. “So apparently my grandmother is getting married.”
“What?!” I find myself snickering, too.
“Yup—seems like old Nancy Chester has found love…again. Lady’s been married twice and apparently that wasn’t enough to turn her off of the whole idea.”
“She’s a brave woman.”
Nova chuckles again and waves her phone around. “My sister is freaking out!” she says. “The wedding is in a week and Nadia’s worried she won’t have a date.”
I lift the sandwiches out of the pan with my spatula and set them on a big ceramic plate in front of her. She rubs her hands together with glee. “Oh my god! These are perfect. Thanks, Charlie.”
As Nova gobbles down the sandwiches, I sit back and watch her. I don’t like the way my mind is racing. I’m driving myself crazy wondering who she’s going to take to the wedding as her date. I really want to know who’s arm she’ll be clinging to when she steps into the reception hall, who’ll be holding her close on the dance floor that night, who’ll be trying to take her home. This is stupid. She’s just my friend. Why am I so invested in the answer to that question?
She looks up at me and makes a face. “You okay? You look upset.”
I shake my head, trying to avoid the real issue. “Are you cold? I’m cold.” I slide off of my stool. “I’m gonna start a fire.”
It’s not cold. It’s freakin’ July. But chicks are always cold and thankfully, Nova doesn’t protest.
She follows me into the living room where I set the plate of grilled cheese and two piping hot mugs down on the end table. I flip on the switch for the fireplace and flames burst through the darkness, lighting up the dim room.
With the fire crackling in front of us, I sit on the floor with my back leaned against the side of the sofa. Nova lies on her stomach beside me, kicking her feet up in the air as she drags her pencil back and forth on her sketchpad. We talk and laugh the whole time. I tell her about the mini-mansion that we’re renovating for an eccentric billionaire with the strangest requests and she recounts the story of the cat lady who showed up for dinner at the restaurant with a litter of newborn kittens.
Laying her sketchpad aside, she rises onto her elbows and reaches for her mug of hot chocolate with a contented look on her face. She hums in satisfaction as the first taste hits her tongue. Her eyes flutter shut.
She looks like some other-worldly being, backlit by the flames raging just over her shoulder. The pink of her tongue slips through her lips and she laps at the foam clinging to the corners of her lips. She groans low in her chest.
Damn. She’s so close, making sounds I want to hear over and over again. A part of me wants to crawl right over to her. Peel those little shorts down her legs. Spread those legs wide and get lost in her heat. Pound my cock into her curvy body until she’s clinging to me and screaming my name.
My rational side clings to control. Just barely. Even as my gaze tears across her frame, I stay still. I keep my distance.
Her eyes open, hooking on mine. The expression on her face smolders. And suddenly the air between us is hot. It vibrates with lust. She’s just your friend, I remind myself. Well, I want to do very friendly things to her body. Things I won’t be able to take back if I get them started.
As a diversion, my eyes move to the drawing in front of her. Nova has been working on her Love Bugs graphic novel series for a long time now. It’s a bunch of sassy insects with human-like features. It’s kind of creepy but undeniably cool at the same time. Sometimes, she sticks a few sketches up on her blog but she draws the comics mainly as a hobby, for her own personal enjoyment. Hopefully in time, it will see the light of day, outside of her trusty sketchpad.
I drag myself closer to get a good look at what she’s working on now. Recognition is almost immediate. I grab the pad and hold it up in front of me. “What is this?”
Nova falls onto her back and blinks up at me playfully. “What do you think it is?”
The lines and curves on the page connect and overlap, forming a clear, unmistakable image.
“Sorta looks like you. Hmm...” Sitting up, she picks up her mug again and brings it to her sinful lips, concealing her smirk.
My eyes move over the drawing. It’s the body of a spider. Probably a tarantula. But that’s my strong jaw, my smirking lips, my furrowed brow. The sex in my eyes burns so bright it nearly scalds my fingers on the page.
She grabs back the pad and strokes her fingers across the rippling lines and sinews of my muscular spider arms.
I want her to touch me like that, to run her fingers across my skin. I want to toss that damn sketchpad into the flames and offer my body up to her like a canvas.
The tension is so thick. I feel it wrapping around my limbs, squeezing on me. I yank my collar away from my neck because it’s just too damn hot in here. I swallow hard and inch away, desperate for some reprieve. From the look on her face, I wonder if she feels it too.
She hops up to her feet and bounds toward the kitchen. “You have any marshmallows?”
I grin to myself as the muffled sound of her voice carries down the hall. I love the way she bounces around my house, opening cupboards and sprawling off on furniture like she belongs here. It tricks me into thinking that maybe she does.
When she finds the marshmallows, she comes sauntering back into the living room. She tosses the bag at me.
Tearing open the packaging, I can’t help myself any longer. “So, who are you taking to the wedding?”
She shrugs a shoulder, causing her shirt to slide even further down her skin. “I dunno. Haven’t thought about it yet.” She grabs a marshmallow from the bag and sticks it on the end of one of the long skewers sitting by the fireplace. “Roy and I just broke up.” She’s completely aloof when she says it.
I make an exaggerated pouty face. “Aww. So sad.”
She hurls a marshmallow at me and rolls her eyes when I effortlessly catch it with my mouth. Even more annoyance flashes across her features when I throw her a wink.
Lying on my back with my hands cradling my skull, I stare at her.
“What?” She looks self-conscious all of a sudden.
“I can just see your mind working through your rolodex of losers.” Laughter rumbles in my chest.
She arches a brow. “My rolodex of losers?”
“Yeah, looking for a wedding date.”
She folds her arms under her ample breasts, looking offended. “Who exactly is in my rolodex of losers?”
I laugh again. “Let’s start with Jason. Was that his name?”
“Nothing’s wrong with Jason,” she says defensively, “Jason’s an entrepreneur!”
“The guy brews craft beer in the basement of his grandmother’s dress shop and sells it on Etsy. I’m not sure that counts as entrepreneurship. Is that even legal?”
“Oh shut up!” she laughs through her nose. “He’s ambitious. Pioneering. Last time I spoke to him, he said he was going on Shark Tank!”
“Shark Tank? Then he must be an entrepreneur.” At my snide tone, she punches me in the arm.
“Then, what about Bruno? Remember him? The guy with the three masters’ degrees. Meet him on Tinder.”
I narrow my gaze suspiciously. “I never liked that guy. He looks like a fucking warlock. Creeps me out.”
She grimaces. “Oh gosh, I sort of have to agree with you on that.” She twists her lips to the side and thinks hard. “Okay, maybe I can ask Cobi? He owns that thrift store near the post office.”
“Ugh! Another plaid-wearing, granola-loving, B-12 deficient hipster who eats all his raw vegan meals out of a mason jar? Can’t you do better than that?”
An indignant look comes to her face. “A man's manliness is not determined by his animal protein intake!”
“Any chump who cowers before a 21-ounce steak isn't man enough for you, Nova.” I watch as she slides her marshmallow into the blazing furnace and it hovers just above the licking flames.
Lucky for me, she’s been kissing frogs for as long as I’ve known her. But she’s a phenomenal woman—gorgeous, talented, loyal—and one day, she’s gonna get her act together and get swept off her feet by some sweet-talking lothario who will put a ring on her finger and keep her all to himself. And I’ll lose her.
The thought is enough to push a golf ball of a knot into my throat.
“I’m just trying to say that, you keep dating these guys who are safe, guys who pose no risk to your heart. But they don’t have what it takes for a girl like you.”
She sighs. “I’ve just been around so many mean people in life. I don’t want that anymore. Do you blame me for trying to protect my heart from getting trampled?” Her eyes are soft, pleading with me to understand.
Reaching across the space between us, I flick her on the paint-covered dimple in her chin. “You need a man who’s strong, who isn’t afraid of your confidence but respects you enough to challenge you, to push you…You need a man who’ll help you be the best version of you.”
Staring at the soft curve of her full lips, I lose my train of thought. I find myself wondering yet again what it would be like to kiss a woman like her. I find myself wondering what it would be like to be that guy that she needs.
Heaven knows I’m the last thing she needs. All I’d do is end up hurting her somehow and hating myself forever for doing that.
When my eyes move to hers, she’s wearing a look I’ve never seen on her face before. It’s soft and girlish, nearly shy. I’m feeling kind of strange, too. Yes, I want to fuck her so hard her body forms grooves in the hardwood floor. But more importantly, I want to make her understand just how amazing she is. She doesn’t have to settle for the idiots she’s been settling for.
A charred scent wafts into my awareness. When I glance over at the fireplace, her marshmallow is blazing. “Whoa! Watch out!”
She startles and quickly pulls the burnt confection from the flames. Her lips pucker as she blows on the marshmallow, putting out the fire. I want those pretty lips puckered around my cock. So much.
“Look what you did!” she laughs.
“Me?”
“Yes, totally your fault. Distracting me with your Eat, Pray, Love monologue.” She pushes the stick my way. “I dare you—five dollars to eat this.”
I shoo her hand away and laugh. “I’m not eating that. You’re just trying to get free money!”
“A girl’s got rent to pay,” she says, shrugging.
I give her a hard look. “You don’t have rent to pay. You live rent-free in your mother’s house.”
“Ugh! Don’t rub it in my face, Charlie. It’s just a figure of speech.” Then she mutters under her breath. “A girl’s got batteries to buy.”
My ears twitch and my cock fills with blood at the idea of what she might need those batteries for. “What did you just say?”
She giggles with a kittenish glint in her eyes. “Nothing…”
Yeah, right. Why is she teasing me like this? It’s unkind.
Fuck—I want to be the guy she’s thinking about. On those long, cold nights. When she’s lying around with nothing but her fingers and her lust and her battery-operated boyfriend.
The next thought that filters through my brain causes a laugh to fly out of my mouth.
“What’s so funny?” Her eyes narrow at me.
I study her for a second and then shake my head. Nova and I are close but I don’t want to push it and make her uncomfortable. “Nothing,” I say to her.
“Tell me,” she insists, her eyebrows rising high on her forehead.
I shake my head again. “You don’t wanna know.”
She crawls across to me on all fours, looking like a wildcat—sleek, sexy and dangerous to my self-restraint. “Yes, I do.”
I hear the words coming out of my mouth before I’ve fully thought through the consequences. "I just have a hard time with the fact that those are the losers you think about when you're getting yourself off."
She crosses her eyes and drops back onto her haunches. “I bet you’d love to hear me say, ‘No Charlie, you’re the only man I think about when I’m touching myself’,” she spits out sarcastically. “‘I almost sprained a finger the other day, thinking about that big old head of yours, Charlie’.” She taps me on the forehead with her knuckles. She throws her head back and laughs. “Wouldn’t you love to hear that? Just to inflate your ego.”
I lose control of my cool. An avalanche of obscene images staring Nova and me pour into my consciousness. It’s nearly overwhelming.
Leaning forward, I wrap my fingers around her wrist. My face is barely inches from hers. “I’ll take you to the wedding.” She has a dirty little mouth on her and I can’t stand the thought of her whispering those things to any other man. No, I’ll take her to the wedding.
The surprise on her face is unmistakable. “Huh?”
Drawing in a breath, I repeat myself. “I’ll take you to the wedding.”
“Charlie, I’m fine going to the wedding by myself. I wasn’t trying to throw you subtle hints or guilt you into coming with me.”
“I know that.”
“So, why would you even offer? My family is nuts.”
“I’ll go as moral support. To help you withstand the trauma of a crazy evening with the Chesters.”
Her eyes broadcast her hesitation. “That’s…unnecessary.”
“Don’t fight me on this, Nova. I’m not letting you show up and embarrass yourself with one of your pathetic exes. I’m going with you.”
She sighs with resignation and drops to her back on the floor.
“So it’s settled then. I’m taking you to the wedding.”
Her nostrils twitch and I can tell she’s fighting off a smile. “Fine. You’re taking me to the wedding.”
Victorious. That’s how I feel as I rise to my feet and turn in the direction of the toilet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to go relieve myself.”
And I’m not talking about taking a piss.