Sweet Love

by Kayla, Mia

  “This is crazy. All of it.” He motioned to the room around him. “Anyone who can’t see that you have talent is obviously blind, no offense to your mother.”

  I smiled. Had been smiling ever since I sat on the couch. It was the way he made me feel … like I was the absolute best artist out there—which I knew wasn’t true, but still, it made me feel empowered.

  “You have to draw something for me. I’ll pay you.”

  “Draw something for you?” I perked up on my seat. Immediately, my mind went to the gutter, thinking of painting his perfect naked form. I forced my eyes to stay level with his face.

  “I’ll take it to New York with me. Hang it up. Kind of remind me of this fun adventure we had today.”

  Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was just me wanting to believe he had totally checked me out, but I swore his eyes had wandered over my neck, over my robe, down to my bare legs and feet. It wasn’t a few times either. It was multiple times.

  “Okay. Deal. I won’t even charge you. I feel like we’ve upped our level of friendship somehow, given that we are both in this room, practically naked.”

  He laughed, and we shared an amused look.

  “I want something that represents me. Something abstract. Nothing too serious. Unless you want to draw me naked? I’ll take that too.”

  I coughed out a laugh and averted my stare. I wanted to tell him that had been the first thought that reined in my head.

  I’d drawn male figures in the naked form before, but those people I didn’t know. Those people had been strangers. This would be totally different, especially since I was attracted to him.

  When I didn’t respond, he said, “I’m kidding, Charlie. We’ve crossed all kinds of boundaries today. That would be a whole separate and new level of boundary crossed that I don’t think HR would approve of. You know what? Draw one for Nana too. She has all these scenic paintings in her room, or actually … I’ll actually take that one of the guy with his penis hanging out. Nana has a funny sense of humor that way.”

  The way he talked about his nana made my heart full.

  I loved how he cared about his nana’s diet, cared about what she thought, cared about everything about her. How he was thoughtful even though she wasn’t in the room. It was endearing. And sweet. And made me realize he was more of a family guy than he led himself or others to believe.

  “And this …” He made his way toward an abstract sculpture that was half the size of my body on top of a pedestal in the corner. To be honest, it was hideous.

  “Yeah, I think I should stick to painting.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s interesting.”

  The sculpture was made from plastilina clay, which was a sculpting clay. The figure was supposed to be a stick-figure model raising her hands to the ceiling. Her arms pointed to the sky.

  I stood and followed him to the figure, remembering that day in class when I had been having the most difficult time getting the clay to move and form where I wanted it to. “I thought I was an artist, so that meant I could do it all. Nope. This sculpture obviously proves that.”

  “Shh. It’s interesting. Is she pointing to the sky?” He touched the slender part of her arms. “Is she supposed to be holding something?”

  “Nope. Those are her fingers.” Which looked like she had Cheetos in her hands.

  “Oh.” He laughed.

  “Yep. And this right here was supposed to be her elbow.” My fingers touched at the place where her elbow should be if the clay had cooperated. She was supposed to be worshipping, and it just looked like she was standing weird, as though someone had punched her and she was screaming for help.

  A chuckle escaped him. “And this?” He touched her midsection. “What is this?”

  “That’s supposed to be her stomach, but the clay dropped a little, so it looks like she has testicles.” I giggled.

  “And this?” He poked at her neck.

  The statue teetered, and a series of events happened as though it were in slow motion.

  As we both stepped forward to steady the statue, we bumped into each other, knocking the statue over. We both bent down to catch it but failed as the statue teetered over, fell to the floor, and cracked in two. In the process, my robe flew open, and somehow, his towel got undone. We tumbled to the floor in one heaping mess, his naked body on top of mine.

  “Omigod! Omigod!” I pushed at his chest, and he stilled above me, eyes wide, as though he was in shock. His penis was on my thigh. “Connor!”

  He stood, but the towel was gone. I watched his impressive wanger swing from side to side as he extended his hand to help me up, but too bad my robe was wide open, and he was blatantly staring.

  I tore my stare away from his cock and wrapped my robe around myself. But when I turned to my side to get up, the back of my robe was bunched up, and it exposed my bare ass. I groaned, pulling it down.

  What did Connor do?

  He simply laughed.

  “Ugh.” I had no words.

  “Don’t tell HR about that one,” he joked.

  My eyes met his as he wrapped himself up again, and I scowled. “Not funny, Connor. I just felt your big …” My eyes went to his package underneath the towel. “Against my thigh!” I groaned.

  “You’re really great for my ego, Charlie. My big …” He let out a low laugh.

  Gah! How did he think this was remotely funny?

  Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I turned in the other direction. “I’m sure you know how to let yourself out.”

  “Charlie …” I could feel him following me. “It was an accident. I’m just trying to make light of a very uncomfortable situation.”

  I walked straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I locked it, mortified beyond belief, resting my back against the door.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Charlie … I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

  He was laughing. Little bastard was laughing.

  I shut my eyes tightly. “I quit.” Because, how could our relationship go back to normal after we rubbed uglies? I scratched my temple.

  “Don’t say that.” His tone turned serious now. “It was an accident. A horrible, embarrassing accident that will never, ever be mentioned again. Okay?”

  I huffed.

  “Charlie, I promise. It will be like it never happened.”

  His words were met by silence.

  “Listen, I’m sorry that I tripped and fell naked upon your body.”

  “Connor …”

  “Okay. But you have to admit, it was kind of funny?”

  “No.”

  A low tap hit the door. It seemed as though he was tapping his forehead against the door.

  “You’re not really quitting on me, are you?”

  Another tap.

  “Because I kinda need you.”

  Another tap.

  “For this restructure.”

  After a silent minute, which seemed like forever, he audibly huffed.

  “Charlie … I’m going to leave. The rain seems to have died down a little. But I’m not leaving until you promise me that you’ll be at work.”

  I kept silent, chewing on my bottom lip like it was my next meal.

  “Please, Charlie. I’m not leaving until you promise.”

  Given what I already knew about him, I knew he was one stubborn man.

  I opened the door and peered up at him through my lashes, frowning. “I promise. ’Kay?”

  His eyes scoured my body, and it turned all my cheeks heated.

  “See you then, Charlie.”

  I scowled. “Your clothes are in the dryer.” I shut the door on him and let myself slip to the floor.

  How is this even going to work now?

  Chapter 12

  Connor

  I’d always prided myself on being headstrong, making a decision and sticking with it. I was the guy who had upped and left Chicago, determined never to come back. I was the guy who had wanted to rise to the
director level at Financial State within a few years of starting. And so far, I’d never doubted my ability of sticking to my guns, but watching Charlie like I was a stalker straight up from a bad movie had me doubting myself.

  I leaned against the wall, observing her interact with Nana. Part of me believed Nana broke her computer on a daily basis because she wanted to see Charlie. If I had to guess, I wasn’t the only one charmed by the new girl.

  Nana laughed at something Charlie had said and stuffed more cookies in her mouth. She was like the cookie monster on steroids.

  But Charlie … she was something else altogether. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. All that bombarded my mind was her soft, naked body against mine, her perky breasts, the curvature of her hips, the little patch of hair …

  “What are you doing?”

  I jumped back as Alyssa slid beside me.

  “Shit, Alyssa,” I hissed.

  “What are you doing?” she repeated.

  Her stare followed mine, and her smirk told me she knew what I had been doing—stalking.

  “Watching Nana eat cookies. I’m going to stage an intervention soon.” I cleared my throat and rubbed the back of my neck.

  “Mmhmm. Sure.”

  Alyssa was one of the most perceptive women I’d ever met in my life. No one could bullshit this girl, so I wasn’t even going to try.

  “Anyway, did you want something?” I asked.

  “Nope. I was going to grab Charlie for lunch … unless you want to?” Alyssa lifted an eyebrow, smirking.

  I shook my head, playing dumb. “Oh. We’re not working on the rebranding again today.”

  “Oookay,” she drawled out, this all-knowing look in her eye.

  Great. She is onto me. Probably has been.

  “All right, I think I’ll talk to Nana later.” I about-faced and got out of there like there was something very important waiting for me in my office.

  I needed a cold shower. And stat.

  * * *

  About an hour before quitting time, I went to Charlie’s desk because I wanted all this awkwardness cleared up. We had work to do, and sensibility had kicked in. We—more so me—had to forget about everything that had happened between us. I had to forget about her hot body, the color in her cheeks when she was embarrassed, and the curiosity of making her turn pink in certain places after a night of rough—

  Stop!

  “Charlie.”

  She peered up at me from her desk, and her cheeks flushed all shades of pink. Unwanted thoughts filtered through my brain again.

  I cleared my throat. “We need to talk.”

  She raised a hand. “Nope. If it has anything to do with what happened, I don’t wanna talk about it. Forget it ever happened.”

  Believe me, I’d tried everything to forget, but nothing seemed to work.

  “Okay, it never happened.” I stepped into her, and my fingers itched at my sides. A strand of hair lay across her forehead, and I wanted to push it back so badly, but I held steady. “We have to work together and”—my eyes drifted to the curvature of her neck, and I swallowed—“I just don’t want it to be weird between us.”

  She threw me a look, and I laughed.

  “Okay, okay.” I lifted both hands. “I just want it to be less weird between us.”

  She scratched at her forehead as though there were an intense mosquito bite there. “I just …” She peered up at me and shut her eyes tightly. “Every time I see you, I just picture you naked. And we have to work together.”

  Me too. I don’t just picture you naked. I picture a lot of other things.

  “Charlie, open your eyes.”

  “No.”

  She pushed out her bottom lip, and all of me wanted to bite it.

  “Come on.”

  She flipped her eyes open then, and at the span of green peering up at me, I could read all her emotions. She was nervous, scared, embarrassed.

  “Hey.” I angled closer. “It’ll be fine, okay? It could have been worse.”

  “Worse?” She scoffed. “How?” She shook her head. “How could it have possibly been worse?”

  True. She had me there.

  I paused, thinking, and then added, “Wanker could have accidentally slipped in.”

  She blanched.

  “See? Worse.”

  I tipped my chin because this conversation was going downhill by the second. “I bet you, by tomorrow night, when we’re working on the campaign, me and my nakedness will be the last thing on your mind.”

  I turned away before she had a chance to say anything.

  If she is up to it slipping in … that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  I blew out a breath.

  Thoughts like that would only get me in trouble.

  Charlie

  The break room was empty, except for Alyssa, Casey and me. Although, notably, it was two in the afternoon, and we were having a late lunch.

  “Can you believe him? I mean, why is he always here at the company and totally bothering me?” Casey flipped her brown hair over her shoulder. “I think he’s stalking me. I’m going to get a restraining order soon.”

  Alyssa coughed out a laugh. “I think you like him stalking you.”

  Casey’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not!”

  And then went the bickering back and forth on Kyle and how Casey had invited him to stalk her.

  I tuned out Alyssa and Casey, not on purpose, simply because all I kept thinking of was our meeting tonight … alone in the conference room. The initial shock of embarrassment had died down, but hell, thinking of Connor and me alone, until the wee hours of the morning, with Chinese food, had my nerves shot.

  My knees bounced as I stared blankly at my sandwich, all of a sudden not hungry, when I peered up to see Connor in an all-pink outfit. Pink bow tie, light-pink shirt, and even pink pants.

  Alyssa busted out in laughter. “You look like a stick of pink gum. What the hell are you wearing?”

  His eyes were strictly focused on me, and I laughed.

  “Did you lose another bet?” Casey asked, girlie giggles escaping her. “What did I tell you about betting against Kyle? He’ll never make a bet he’s going to lose.”

  Connor turned around with an exaggerated effect and motioned to his shoes, which were also pink. “And for your information, I didn’t lose a bet. We’re revamping the factory uniforms with the rebranding. This is one of the options. Why not do it all?”

  He sat right next to me, and all my body heated. Even in all pink, he was unbelievably masculine, this strength oozing out of his pores, in the strong set of his shoulders, his confident smile.

  “What do you think?” he asked me.

  “It’s … pink.” I laughed.

  “It’s cheesy. That’s what it is,” Alyssa added. “Anyway, I have to get some work done today.” She pushed her Tupperware and silverware into her designer lunch bag and stood.

  When Casey stood Connor put his hand on my leg to still me.

  Heat. Holy hecka, heat spread throughout me. My gaze dropped to the table, warmth spreading to my cheeks, no doubt flaming my face red.

  “I need to talk to Charlie about our rebranding session tonight.”

  Casey waved a hand. “Okay, have fun.”

  “Okay. See you guys soon.” Then, Alyssa smirked. After a slow nod, she winked.

  What the hell was that?

  When they were out of sight, Connor turned to face me. “So, we’re still on for tonight?”

  “Yep. I just need to go home and grab my sketchbook. Then I’ll come back to the office.”

  “Chinese food sound good?”

  “Yep.” I crumpled up my sandwich bag, my gaze strictly focused on the bag in my hands, on the table, anywhere but meeting his eyes.

  “Charlie, are you going to answer only to the table?”

  My eyes flipped up to meet his. “I’m ready for tonight. Chinese is okay.” And then I laughed because he did look ridiculous. “Right now, I have to go.
A thing called work calls to me.”

  I walked to the garbage, and he followed.

  “Do you like the outfit?”

  “Honestly, it’s over-the-top crazy. You’re not going to make everyone in the factory wear that, are you? ’Cause that’s straight-up cruel.” I laughed.

  “No. I think people would quit. Plus, I really wore it for you.”

  The smile from my face slipped, and he answered my silent question.

  “And now, you’ll no longer picture me naked. Instead, you’ll picture me in this pink outfit.” He wiggled his eyebrows as though he were so sure. “See you tonight.” After he tugged at the strands of my hair, he about-faced, and he was gone.

  No longer picture him naked?

  Yeah, right.

  Highly unlikely.

  Chapter 13

  Charlie

  “Hey,” my mother called out.

  My hand was on the door and I was on my way out of the house; going back to the office. I’d been purposely trying to avoid her, grabbing breakfast on my way to work this morning.

  When I thought of my artwork in the trash, I wanted to cry all over again. I tried to dim this anger I had toward her, but it festered deep inside of me.

  “Charlie,” she called out again when I didn’t answer.

  Slowly I turned around.

  She approached, bringing me my water bottle and the small gesture caused my heart to tighten. She handed it to me, and I tossed it in my oversized purse.

  She tucked an escaping strand of hair behind my ear and smiled.

  “I missed you this morning, Honey.”

  I swallowed down the hurt and pain and forced a smile to match hers. Missed me? I miss you more, Mom.

  Maybe she didn’t know what was being thrown out? Maybe someone else threw my paintings out?

  That was a possibility. It could be.

  I didn’t want to start an argument or worry that I hurt her feelings, like so many times before—too many to count—so I bit my tongue.

  “I just had to be at work extra early today and it’ll be a late night tonight as well. I’ll be having dinner at the office. I just came home to grab my sketchbook.”