“I was going to make a pussy joke instead.”
Charlie pops the onion ring in her mouth and shakes her head. “I should have seen that coming.”
“Pussies and coming…you’re basically forcing my hand, Charlie.” I toss the crust of my pizza back in the box and get another piece. “Unless you’re trying to give me a hint of what you want to do later.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“I told you, that’s not happening.”
“You would enjoy it.”
She swallows hard and reaches for a napkin. Wiping her hands, she gets up and goes to the fridge to get a drink. She’s wearing the same PJs from last night, and while the smiling avocado print makes me think the clothes were meant for a teenager, they sure look good on Charlie. My eyes go to her ass, tight yet still supple. She’s not wearing a bra, and I can see the faint outline of her pert nipples through the tank top when she turns around.
“I’m sure I would,” she quips. “And you would too.” Twisting the cap off the water bottle, she shakes her head and blows out a breath. “But we just can’t, Owen. It’s not a good time for me, and I’m pretty sure I know how this would end.”
“With you screaming after you come for the third time.”
She tenses, but not from discomfort. She’s thinking about it too, remembering how good we were together.
“Talking like that…don’t. Just don’t.”
“Why? Am I getting you all hot and bothered and you’re going to have a hard time resisting me later?”
Her eyes narrow and part of my brain yells at me to shut up. Yet for some reason I can’t, and all the frustration and regret has to come out somehow. Being a smartass has always been my thing, and yeah, I know deep down it comes from some sort of place of insecurity, that using humor and deflecting my feelings is a way of coping with the shit I don’t want to cope with.
Though right now, coping Charlie is exactly what I need.
“Thanks for the pizza. I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll leave my door open.”
Charlie grabs one more piece of pizza and takes it upstairs. I finish eating, clean up a bit, and then start to trudge up the stairs. I stop halfway up only to turn around, go back down, and set out a to-go mug and program the coffee pot to go off at seven AM for Charlie in the morning. She’s probably going to have a hard time falling back asleep and will be tired in the morning.
I shower, fall into bed, and close my eyes, ready to pass out. I’m tired and should fall asleep easily, but I don’t. My mind drifts back to Charlie, and my heart hurts once more. I’m still in love with her. I’ve always been in love with her, and I know I always will be.Chapter 24CharlieI braid my hair as I walk down the stairs. I couldn’t fall back asleep after going to bed last night and finally drifted off about an hour before my alarm went off. I hit snooze twice and then just shut off my alarm, waking fifteen minutes later in a panic. Luckily, I washed my hair last night. It’s long and thick and takes forever to dry.
I secure a hair tie around the end of my braid and throw my blonde locks back over my shoulder. The house is quiet, and Owen was true to his word last night: he did leave his bedroom door open. I looked in when I walked down the hall, seeing him in all his glory sprawled out on his stomach on his mattress.
He sleeps naked, like he always has, and the sheets were barely covering up his ass. The sight of his naked body sent a jolt through me, awakening every single nerve in me. Physically, there’s no denying that Owen is a gorgeous man. He’s tall and fit, with deep brown eyes, full lips, and a strong jaw that’s always covered in the perfect amount of stubble.
I know he works out, and I’ve seen the protein shakes and supplements in the pantry. Still, it’s not bloody fair for someone to be in that good of shape when they bring home pizza and French fries several times a week. I run because I like it but also because my family has a history of heart disease. Also, I like to drink wine and eat sweets. Instead of cutting things I enjoy out of my diet, I’d rather add in working out to balance the scale.
The smell of coffee fills the kitchen. Owen isn’t down here making me breakfast this morning, and he rarely gets up this early. He told me himself. Did he change the timer on the coffee pot so it would be ready for me? There’s even a mug out on the counter, ready to go.