by Randa Lynn
Thank God Charlie helped me buy stuff for it yesterday, or I would have been lost. Apparently buying ham, cheese, and bread doesn’t suffice for party food. Who would have known?
I scrub my hands up and down my face before checking the time, ready for Charlie to get here. She couldn’t get here until eight, and everyone else showed up at seven. I’ve been stuck in my room for almost forty-five minutes because I’m not ready to face the fact that my house is flooded with people.
I toss my phone on the nightstand before standing, tucking my black button up in my jeans and buckling my belt. As I roll the sleeves up to my elbow I hear the bedroom door open. Charlie stands at my doorway with her blonde hair hanging loosely down her face. A black dress hugs every delicious curve of her body as she sways from side to side nervously. My cock twitches in my jeans at the sight of her alone. “Fuck,” I groan.
“I look silly, don’t I?” she says, looking down at her dress. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Lizzie made me. She brought this ridiculousness over earlier and made me wear it as her going away gift.”
I make quick strides to get near her. Touch her. Feel her. I grab each side of her face. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”
Her cheeks redden as she shakes her head. “Am not.”
“Charlie,” I warn. “Don’t. I swear to God, I could throw you down in that bed right now and fuck you so hard. This.” I run my hands down the side of her hour glass figure. “You.” I squeeze her hips tighter. “Everything about you is the epitome of drop dead gorgeous. Never doubt that.” I dip my face down, brushing my lips against hers, whispering against her mouth, “If we don’t get out of this room now, we won’t ever make it out.”
Her breathing heavies. She looks up at me through those thick lashes. I swear to God, this woman is my Siren. Everything she does pulls me in deeper and deeper to her. “I don’t care.”
“Yeah, well I do.” We both turn at the sound of Lizzie’s voice in the doorway. “I knew you two were more than you lead everyone to believe. I can see right through both of you.”
I grab Charlie’s waist, pulling her close to me until her back connects with my chest, but she pulls away just as quickly. “Lizzie, stop,” Charlie laughs nervously. “It’s nothing. We just… We just had a moment.”
I look down at her, my eyebrow hiking in confusion.
Nothing?
It’s nothing?
I thought it was something. Everything. I’m pissed off. I know she doesn’t like the world to know her business. I know she’s terrified of her life being ripped out from under her again. I get that, trust me, I do. But she just stood there and blatantly denied that we are anything—to her sister.
I’m not only pissed. I’m hurt. The second she heard Lizzie’s voice she broke from my grasp and distanced herself from me like she was embarrassed. We’re all grown here. Why the hell should she be embarrassed? I’m not.
My anger and hurt get the better of me. Before I say anything I regret, I need to just walk away.
“Yeah, it’s absolutely nothing.” I walk towards the bedroom door and take one final look at Charlie. Her eyes awash with regret, mine burning with anger. Anger at her, but more so at myself for ever thinking she would get out of that head of hers and learn to live despite all the shit swirling in her head. “Excuse me, ladies.”
This night has gone nothing like I had planned. I came here actually excited because I wanted to see Slayter. Excited because I missed him. It’s funny how you can see someone every day, but still miss them the second you’re away from each other. And right now I’m missing him when he’s in the same house as me. We might only be twenty feet from each other physically, but it feels like we’re lightyears apart emotionally.
I know I shouldn’t have said what I did back there in the bedroom, but I was caught off guard. Lizzie barged in, interrupting the moment between us. It was a moment that teetered on the edge of need and desire. I froze. I locked up and said the only thing I knew was safe. “It’s nothing…”
The truth is, it’s everything. He’s everything. That’s what terrifies me most. He’s everything to me, and he doesn’t need to be. I can’t allow someone to be my everything. It’s not fair to me, and it’s sure as hell not fair to him.
His eyes cast over me every time he scans the people in the room. He isn’t smiling with that sparkle in his eyes, which has come to be the one tangible thing I long for. He hasn’t even spoken to me since he stormed out of his bedroom earlier.
He walked out.
I pushed him out.
I throw back the fruity mixed drink Lizzie made me, the sweet flavor making my lips pucker as it slides down my throat. Abby walks across the kitchen—Slayter’s kitchen. She walks around like she owns the place, and I feel my imaginary quills stand on end. She grabs a bottle of water out of the refrigerator—Slayter’s refrigerator—before walking back into the crowded living room. I’m already so mad, the sight of her is enough to make me want to slam my fist into something. Preferably her.
Everyone’s chatter eventually drowns out my thoughts. My mind is far too tired from the rollercoaster it’s been on since I walked in this house. This is why I should have never let myself get in this far deep.
What have you done, Charlie?
Someone lays a hand on my lower back, instantly calming me. I turn, hoping it’s Slayter wanting to tell me he overreacted; it’s no big deal. But it’s not Slayter. It’s Cade—blonde hair and suntanned skin—smiling down at me. His one little crooked tooth adding character to his already gorgeous face. “Hey, Charlie. How have you been?”
“Great,” I lie. I’ve never been great. I’ve been super okay, but right now, I’m nowhere near that. I’m pissed. I’m mad. I’m angry that Slayter has gone from making me feel safe and accepted to making me feel alone and unwanted. “Just living life.” Or surviving life.
I feel his thumb rub up and down where his hand is firmly placed, and I don’t get shivers. I don’t get that feeling. Not the one I get with Slayter. “You look good. Real good.” His voice is smooth, intoxicating to any normal woman. But I’m not normal. His sexy as hell smirk and obvious attraction to me, or what I can do for him, does nothing for me.
See?
I’m broken.
I grab the bottle of Jack sitting on the bar. I pour a shot or three into my empty glass. “You too.” I hold the cup up in the air before throwing it back. The burn it brings is a much more welcoming feeling than that crap Lizzie made. I like the burn straight liquor brings. Because it burns and for a second that’s all I feel. For a single instant, the world is but a haze.
Cade makes a bit more small talk. I answer with the typical “yeah” and "okay,” because I’m not paying any bit of attention to him. No, I’m paying attention to the people across the room. I have tunnel vision, and everything blurs except them.
I’m really not a jealous girl. Hell, I’ve never wanted a guy, let alone had one to be jealous of. But as I watch Abby’s two-bit whore paws graze up and down the arm of Slayter, my blood boils. It literally bellows in my veins. I grab the bottle of Jack, pouring another shot without my eyes ever leaving them. Abby laughs. Her head tilts back. Slayter chuckles lightly and takes a sip of his beer. She gently nudges him in the chest, tugging on his shirt. I swear to God, if I wasn’t in this dress, I would bury her.
Slayter’s eyes slowly scan the area of his house. When his eyes fall on mine, his smile fades. He takes a swig of his beer, our eyes never leaving one another. My stomach sinks at the lack of emotion in his face. His eyes, the ones that usually make me melt into a puddle, make me want to run the hell away. I told myself I’d never allow myself to feel. Feeling only leads to inevitable heartbreak because nothing in life lasts forever. I figured he’d get over it, come talk to me, but that look, it’s everything I never wanted.
I’m so stupid.
I did this to myself.
I scowl, throwing back the other shot I poured, before wiping my mouth with the back of my han
d. I take my heels off and hold them as I get up from the stool. I never wanted to wear this shit anyway. After walking a few steps, I have to stable myself on my feet; the haze of the alcohol takes over.
“Hey, Char!” Lizzie calls, making her way through the maze of people over to me. I lean on the back of Slayter’s white leather couch to steady myself. Lizzie reaches me, Randi on her heels. “What are you doing?” she asks, pointing at my shoes. “And what is wrong with you? You look…” Her eyes grow wide. “Charlie, are you okay?”
“I’m just dandy,” I slur, smiling as fake as possible. She knows I’m lying. She can read right through the façade I’m putting on.
“Where’s Slayter?” she asks, looking around the room. When she spots him, she just says, “Oh,” and saves me from having to answer. Thank you very much.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m sure Abby will be next. I don’t think he really liked me anyway.” I sway, catching myself on the couch. “I was probably just a project. Poor Charlie is crazy. Poor Charlie needs someone to help her.” I point my hand towards him and yell, “I’m not a charity case, and I don’t need any damn body!”
Slayter turns his head in my direction. Our eyes lock, and I hope like hell he sees how much I can’t stand him right now. His eyes narrow, his jaw tightens. Fuck you I mouth.
Randi chimes in. “What about Slayter? What did I miss?” She looks between Lizzie and me. Her porcelain face furrows in wonder.
“Nothing,” I chide. “You missed absolutely nothing.”
I push off the couch, it slides backwards a few inches with my force. “I’m going to go home.”
Lizzie grabs my arm, stopping me. “Not in that shape, you’re not.”
“I’m grown.”
“Charlie,” she warns. “I won’t let you drive. You could wreck.”
Her last sentence hit me where it hurts the most. I surrender, holding my phone up. “I’ll call a cab.”
“Charlie,” she says. “Stop. I see where this is headed.”
“Headed?” I laugh. “It is headed nowhere. I am jussst fine.” I look back over to Slayter. He’s back lost in whatever crap Abby is saying. “I am just now realizing that I should have kept that wall firmly in place.” I reach in, giving my sister a hug. “I just need to go. I’m still taking you to the airport, you know?”
She sighs in defeat. “Please don’t drive.”
“I’m not. I promise.” I point to my keys on the bar. “Can you please drive my car home? It sure as hell doesn’t need to stay here.”
She nods. “Yeah, sure.”
I give my sister another hug, thanking her before I listlessly make my way out of Slayter’s house for good.
When I grab a hold to the door knob, I take one final look at Slayter. His gray eyes widen as I burn daggers into him. I knew letting myself fall for him would be my biggest mistake.
I’m trying to be nice. So nice. I’ve nodded my head and smiled one too many times, and I can’t do it anymore. “Look, Abby. You’re a really pretty girl. And I appreciate the fact you want to fuck me so hard right now that you can’t stand it.” She smiles seductively, not knowing the blow I’m about to throw to her overgrown ego. “But, I’d never fuck you. Ever. So I’m just going to stop this while you’re ahead and save yourself the embarrassment.” I nod my head over towards Tim. “He’s already given you a go a time or five. Why don’t you go get off with him?”
Her mouth falls agape, but I don’t have time, nor do I care, to hear what she has say in response to that. If I hear one more high pitched giggle from her, I’ll pluck my eardrums out myself. The only person I care about just disappeared. She probably thinks I hate her. The irony is outstanding.
I’m just pissed.
“Hey.” I tap on Lizzie’s shoulder once I get into the kitchen, where she and Randi are chatting. “Where did Charlie go?”
Lizzie spins around quickly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Slayter,” she warns, her blue eyes burning into me, “what the hell did you do to her? I warned you. Months ago I warned you that she wasn’t some girl you could play games with. She’s not like other people. She’s been through so much shit, Slayter.”
“Play games? Who the fuck is playing games, Lizzie? I’m not the one who said we were nothing. No, that would be your sister,” I grit out. “Now tell me where she went.”
“Why?” She taps her foot waiting for me to respond.
“Why what?” I ask, my voice clipped. “Why do I have this innate need to make sure she’s okay? Because she’s fucking ruined me. She’s weaseled her way into my head, and there’s no getting her out of it. And I know she’s not like everyone else. She’s bruised. She’s guarded. She’s different. But dammit, I don’t care.”
Lizzie flings her dark hair over her shoulder. “Why should I tell you where she went?”
“Because,” I rub my hands over my eyes. “Because, Lizzie, I’m fucking falling in love with your sister and I need to figure this shit out before I let it get to that point. And I need to makes sure she’s okay.”
She gasps, her eyes widening in surprise. “You love her?”
I shake my head, pinching the back of my neck, aggravation burrowing into my bones with every passing second she stalls telling me where Charlie went. “I said I was falling in love.” No, asshole. You’re already there. “Now tell me where she went, Lizzie.”
“She went to her house,” she mumbles.
I nod and salute with my hands. “That’s all I needed to know. Thanks.”
“Slayter…” she calls after me.
I throw my hand up. “I’ve got her, Lizzie.”
I stand there with my head propped against the cold metal of her apartment door. My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest with adrenaline. She’s so close, yet feels so far away. I fight with myself on whether I should just turn this knob to see if it’s unlocked. Do I walk in unannounced, or knock like a gentleman?
I decide quickly—fuck being a gentleman.
I shimmy the knob, and it turns easily, letting me know it’s unlocked. I figured.
As soon as I step in, the silence of the apartment covers me. I can see the glow of the television dancing around her living room as I slam the door shut. If she didn’t already know someone was in here, she sure as hell does now. I walk into the living room to wait on her, and prop up on the wall, one leg kicked up against it. A good twenty seconds pass before her bedroom door swings open. Charlie storms out—bathrobe on and hair in a towel—with a baseball bat in tow. When she catches sight of me, she holds her hand up to her chest and gasps, “What the hell are you doing here? You just about gave me a heart attack.”
“You should start locking your door. Then you wouldn’t have random men barge in unannounced.” I kick off the wall, stalking towards her. Her eyes widen. Once I’m in front of her, I grab the baseball bat out of her hand, tossing it to the floor.
“I could have hurt you,” she whispers. Her wide eyes look up at me. They’re still glazed over from the alcohol she downed at my house. She thinks I was ignoring her, but I was paying attention. I’m always paying attention.
I laugh. “With that?” I ask, pointing to the bat on the floor. “Besides, that’s already been done.” Her face crinkles in confusion. I have every intention of making her aware, though. I grab her wrists, walking her backwards until her back hits the wall, and pin her arms above her head. “We’re nothing, Charlie? Is that what you think?”
Eyes glassing over with liquid emotion, she murmurs, “No.”
“Oh, but we are, remember? That’s what you told your sister without thinking twice.” I tug at the tie on her bathrobe, letting it drop to her sides, exposing her bare body underneath. I pull the towel off of her head, her wet hair falling down her face. Her head drops. I place my index finger underneath her chin, tugging her face back to meet mine before trailing my finger all the way down her body until I’m there—that spot I’ve come to thoroughly enjoy and used to think was mine. I guess it never was, be
cause how can she be mine when she’s so fucking lost in her own head she refuses to stay found? I slip my finger inside her as a whimper escapes her lips. “What this does to you is nothing?” I ask, pumping harder, circling my thumb around her clit.
“No,” she moans. “It does…everything.”
I stare at her for a, not able to move my eyes from her face. My fingers work feverishly as her body starts to writhe against my hand.
“Then why hide us? Not wanting to shout it to the world is one thing, but why couldn’t you admit it? Are you ashamed of me, Charlie?”
She shakes her head no. Her body trembles. “I’ve never been ashamed of you.”
I slip my fingers out of her. “Oh, but I think you are.”
She looks up at me. The absence of my touch affects her. I see it in her eyes. I can feel it in the atmosphere as the mood goes from high velocity from her impending orgasm to emptiness in a matter of seconds.
My eyes roam her face, studying her features—her left eye with a tiny gold speck at the edge of her pupil, her heart shaped lips that I love to taste. Her breathing remains labored as she stares, wide-eyed, into my eyes. I see it. It’s written all over her face. The absolute fear of the unknown. The guilt of feeling anything at all. She tries to hide from herself and everyone, but I see right through that veil she’s wearing.
I can take every piece of her and never actually have her heart. I could own every part of her body, but I’d never own her soul. She can’t give me something that she’s locked up so tight even she can’t get to it. Charlie lost the ability to let her heart lead her a long time ago. She’s lost ownership of her soul little by little over the past two years. Her accident took more from her than I could ever imagine, but she’s doing the rest of the work all by herself.