Hate Notes - Page 74
“Why would I be mad at you for that?”
“Because I violated your privacy?”
“I can’t be mad at you. Despite how you got here . . . you came into my world and breathed life into it when I really needed it.”
“And now you’re pushing me away.”
“Charlotte . . . we’ve been through this.”
She went quiet, then said, “You know, despite being hurt, I don’t regret how everything started. That note really helped me. I read it, and it gave me hope that love and romance do exist . . . at a time when I was down on life and love. Even if it was an illusion, it still helped me turn over a new leaf.”
She was being so candid. Why couldn’t I give her a little of that back? I wanted her to know that it wasn’t all an illusion.
“You weren’t that off base about me, Charlotte,” I spit out. “The note was sincere. It’s only in hindsight that I’m able to see the situation for what it was, that Allison’s love for me didn’t match mine for her. So the love I had for her was based on a false ideal. But the man you thought you knew from that note . . . he did exist to a certain extent.” I blew out a deep, ragged breath. “It’s funny. That note stood for something to you. I hung on to a note myself. One that Allison had written, but for an entirely different reason. When she broke off the engagement, it wasn’t exactly a heartfelt moment. She showed up at my office a week before our wedding, sat down in a guest chair across from me, and said that when she agreed to marry me she’d thought I was going to take care of her for the rest of her life, not the other way around. I think I was in shock while she spoke for a few minutes after that. It was all very cold and businesslike. But before she left, she took a piece of my stationery from my desk and wrote her new telephone number on it. She’d apparently already gotten a new phone since she was on my cell plan. I kept that piece of stationery in my top drawer for the longest time. Not because I ever thought about calling her, but to remind me of how that moment made me feel.” I shook my head and looked down. “Every day when I saw that note, it felt like pouring salt on a wound. Then two days ago, I opened the drawer, looked at it one last time, wadded it into a ball, and tossed it in the garbage. I’m not even sure what made me finally do it. I guess it was just time.”
Charlotte stared at me as silence filled the truck. With each second that passed, I felt more and more like being in this truck alone with her, given all the emotions lingering in the air, was dangerous.
“Every time I wear it, I think of you. I’m wearing it right now,” she said.
It took me a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about. It wasn’t the dress. She’s wearing it right now.
Oh.
“Want to see it on me?”
Yes.
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
“No.”
She chose not to listen when she hiked up her skirt and opened her legs, displaying my favorite black thong with the red rose accent. Clearly, she was trying to kill me.
“I think about your hands caressing the lace every time I put this on.”
My voice was gruff. “Close your legs.”
“Why? Do you think this makes me a slut because I want to show you? Because I’m really not—a slut. I haven’t had sex in ages, and even though I wish I could move on, there’s only one man I want to be intimate with.”
My body was heating up fast. “Put your skirt down.”
“Do you really want me to? Because you don’t look like you do. You’re sweating, and you haven’t taken your eyes off it. I don’t really think that’s what you want. I think your mind is telling you one thing, and your body is pulling you in another direction. But okay, I’ll close my legs.”
Just when my pulse started to slow the tiniest bit, I realized while she had closed her legs, she was now slipping off her thong.
Charlotte lifted it to my line of sight. “You want it?”
Yes.
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
“No.”
“Here.” She opened my hand, placing the thong inside before closing my fingers over it.
I was shocked to feel wetness in my palm. Not only had she given me her panties, she’d given me her wet panties. My dick stirred.
Charlotte wrapped her arms around her knees and watched me start to unravel.
Unable to resist, I buried my nose in the lacy fabric and deeply inhaled the sweet, feminine scent of her arousal. And that was it. That was what finally undid me, like a drug evaporating my inhibitions.
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