Page 77 of Business Casual
I nod and slip my hands up to the collar of his coat, tugging him closer. There’s no space between our bodies but he’s been circling just out of reach all day and I’m tired of it. I want to feel the heavy weightof him caging me in. I want him tucked against me until I can’t breathe.
He gives in to my incessant yanking and slips closer, sliding his knee between my thighs and bracing his hand on the wall behind my head so my hair doesn’t catch on the brick.
“I thought once would be enough,” I explain quietly. “It usually is.”
He leans back, dark eyes watching me carefully. His cheeks are pink and his bottom lip is slightly swollen. He looks dazed and confused and deliciously out of sorts. Like I’ve just told him it’s raining pickles or I’ve filled out the wrong tax form.
“Once wasn’t enough?” he asks. “With me?” A thin note of disbelief hums beneath his words. It’s barely noticeable but there. I sometimes forget that for all his easy smiles, Charlie has insecurities too. Ones that are coming into focus the longer I look.
Something in my chest turns over and I shake my head. “It wasn’t.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
I drop my head back against the brick wall and stare at him. “I was waiting for you to say something.”
He blinks twice, still bewildered. “Were you?”
I nod. “Yes. I thought my intentions were obvious. It’s why I’ve been so cranky this morning.”
“It was not obvious, and you’re usually cranky.”
“Thank you, Charlie. You sure have a way with words.”
“How did you make your intentions obvious?” he presses. “You told me at family dinner you didn’t want to be friends, and now you’re telling me you’re mad I’m not kissing you. I’m trying to keep up here, Nova. But it’s tough to follow.”
I wince. “I know. I’m not being fair.” I toy with a button on his coat. “I’m going to work on being honest with you, even if I’m not sure what it is I want. Here’s the first thing, are you ready?”
He nods.
“Last night, in your kitchen, I thought you were going to kiss me. I wanted you to kiss me.”
Something in his face softens. “I wanted to kiss you too.”
I take a deep breath and tell myself to be brave. “I’ve thought about you every day since the night we had together.”
“Of course you have,” he murmurs. “I haven’t given you a second to breathe. I wanted you to think about me.”
“More than that,” I whisper back. We’re slowly moving closer together. My nose brushes his. “I’ve been wanting you, Charlie. I can’t stop thinking about all the things we didn’t get to do.”
He squeezes my hand still caught in his, then lifts it and presses a quick kiss to my knuckles.
“Okay,” he says, a knowing gleam in his eye. I’ve seen that look before. On a dance floor made of old rugs and in the stillness of my bedroom. A tease and a promise, all in one. “What should we do about it?”
I like that word so much.We. But I feel the implication of it like a pinch right in the middle of my chest.
“I want to bring you home with me, but—”
Charlie interrupts the rest of my sentence, swooping down and catching me in another kiss. He curls his fingers around my jaw and holds me to him, licking into my mouth. He’s demanding and rough, his teeth scraping along my bottom lip. When he pulls away, we’re both breathing heavily.
“Yes,” he says. “That.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, then open them with a sharp exhale. “I still don’t want a relationship,” I say carefully. I don’t want this thing with Charlie to feel like something on my list that needs attention. I want to have this with him without having to worry about what it means or what comes next. It’s selfish, but it’s all I can manage right now.
My hands clench in the collar of his coat. I smooth it down, thentwist it up again. “I know it feels like I’m leading you on right now, but I want to be really clear and—”
He cuts me off again, lips gentle this time. He brushes his mouth back and forth, a smile ticking at the very edge.
“I get it, Nova. I hear you.” His hand brushes down my back, tucking me closer to his body and away from the wall, his thumb tracing over each bump of my spine through the material of my coat. “I don’t care how we categorize what we’re doing, as long as we can keep doing it.”
