The Husband Game

“Lila,” I reply, taking her hand. She squeezes mine so hard I swear I can hear the bones creaking, before she releases it again almost as quickly as she grabbed it.

“Lila. Where did you and Charlie meet? Do you go to Hartford?” She tilts her head, studying my face more closely. “I don’t recognize you from our classes.”

“Uh, no, not a student.” I force a smile and inch toward the door, hoping I’ll give off leave me alone vibes.

Instead she only peers at me even more closely now, more interested than ever. Shit. “Oh really? Do you live in the area then? Or work here, or?”

I broaden my smile. “Um, sorry, but I’ve got to run.”

“Oh, right, of course. My bad.” She holds the door wider for me to pass, her gaze following me the whole way through. “Tell Charlie hi for me,” she calls, just as I reach the inside lobby.

When I glance back, just after I press the button for the elevator, I see she’s still poised on the stoop, watching me. Her eyes narrowed, as if she’s deep in thought.

Great. Just what I need. I haven’t even started writing this stupid article yet—I haven’t even gotten Charlie’s permission to do it—and already I have neighbors nosing around, trying to find out what I’m doing here and why. A nosy classmate is the last thing I need right now.

I shuffle into the elevator and press Charlie’s floor, holding my breath the whole way up.

Give up, a voice in my head chants as the elevator speeds upward. Turn around now, just go get back in your car and head home. You can tell Fiona he said no. Make up some excuse, anything.

But instead, when the elevator doors open, I find myself striding out of them and up to Charlie’s front door, my legs moving of their own accord, almost as if possessed.

With every step I take, more memories from last night flood through me. The way we kissed in that elevator, his hands all over me. The way he pushed me through this apartment door and then pinned me against it, his kiss desperate, his hands as hungry as my whole body felt.

Fuck. I’m getting wet again now, just thinking about it. Right when I need to keep my head screwed on the most. I suck in a couple deep breaths of air to try to clear my head. Then I raise a fist and rap gently on Charlie’s front door.

Maybe he won’t hear me. Maybe he isn’t home. I have no other way to get in touch with him, since I refused to exchange numbers with him this morning—was it only this morning that I was sneaking out of this place after our night together? Somehow it feels like so much longer ago.

Or maybe that’s just because I haven’t been able to get him out of my head all day. The memories replaying over and over seems to have given them more weight, making them stand out in my mind. Impossible to erase or forget. Just like Charlie himself.

I raise a hand, torn between knocking again or giving up and assuming he isn’t home right now, when the doorknob turns, and then, all at once, there he is again.

Charlie.

My heart rushes straight into my throat, choking off any of the many potential greetings I’d rehearsed over and over in my head before I came back here.

For his part, Charlie just grins, like he expected this all along, like he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist coming back here. “Decide you wanted a taste of those pancakes after all?” he asks jokingly, as he pushes the door wider and waves me inside.

I take a deep breath before I cross the threshold, in a vain attempt to quell my racing pulse, the lurch of anticipation in my veins. “Something like that,” I reply as I join him inside.

He pushes the door closed behind us, bringing another memory springing to my mind. Last night, both of us pinned against that door. The way his mouth tasted against mine, the way he slid between my thighs and—

I clear my throat, hard.

Charlie, for his part, just watches me with one eyebrow arched, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking about, and it amuses him deeply. “I thought I was never going to see you again,” he says, his eyes dancing. “I thought you had too much work to do.”

I stifle a weak smile. “Yeah, well. Actually, about that… This sort of is about work.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Oh really. And here I thought I’d actually gotten through to you this morning.”

I laugh, unable to help it. “Alas, I’m more stubborn than you could possibly imagine.”

“I’d prefer if I didn’t have to imagine it.” He takes a step closer to me, and I can smell him already, the combination of his cologne and the sweat licking across his skin bringing back more memories, the sound of his voice as he thrust inside me, and oh fuck. “I’m pretty stubborn too, Lila,” he murmurs, his mouth close to mine now, his gaze hot as it sears into mine. “I’d be happy to test our wills. See who’s the last one standing.”