by Kayla, Mia
It was too late.
I hit the floor in a big, overwhelming, bone-crushing thud. And I blacked out.
Connor
Panic seized my chest when I walked into the coffee room. “What happened?”
“She fainted. Do you think she’s dead?” Casey asked, her voice heightened with hysteria.
“She’s definitely not dead. She’s breathing, Casey. Chill out,” Alyssa said.
My fingers automatically went to Charlie’s neck, checking her heart rate. “Her pulse is elevated but nothing to be concerned about.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God. What does elevated mean?” Casey screeched.
“Did you not hear him?” Alyssa yelled back. “He said that there is nothing to be concerned about.”
“But she’s not moving!”
“She fainted, you idiot.” Alyssa tensed, her patience running thin. So was mine because now was not the time to freak out.
“I’m worried. Oh my God, what if she dies? We need to call 911.”
“No, call the nurse,” I shot out, needing Casey to do anything else but panic.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“Will you shut the fuck up? You’re making me nervous now.” Alyssa stood and got into Casey’s face.
“I can’t. Oh my God. Charlie was a good person.”
The faucet ran, and a second later, Casey yelped. “What the hell, Alyssa? Why did you throw water on me?”
“Because you’re crazy. You’re talking about Charlie like she’s dead. Now, go call the nurse.”
“There’s no time. Maybe we should give her CPR?” Casey’s voice shrieked on high alert. “Do you think it was the coffee I bought her? Maybe it wasn’t the blood? Oh my God, I killed her with organic coffee.”
“Shut up, Casey, or I’ll tape your mouth shut.”
The back-and-forth bickering between the girls was messing with my focus. “How long has she been out?” I touched her cheeks and her forehead and repeated the process.
Alyssa spoke up, “I mean, a minute or two. Not that long for sure.”
Casey was still shocked and staring as though she were going to have a full-on panic attack.
I reached for my phone in my back pocket and dialed my secretary. “Hey, can you call Randy to the coffee room? Tell him it’s an emergency.”
Randy was the nurse on staff.
“This is all my fault. Why did I want peanuts this early in the morning?” Casey’s face crumbled.
And Alyssa looked like she was going to beat someone with a bat. “Are you crying? Stop. Your. Damn. Crying.”
“Oh my gosh, I think she’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.” Casey gasped. “No, I really think she’s not breathing. She’s not breathing. She’s not breathing.”
I felt under her nose and could see the rise and fall of her chest. “She’s fine, Casey. Calm down. She’s fine. She’s breathing. She’s just a little bit unconscious right now.”
“No. No, she’s not. You think she is, but she’s not. The longer she’s out, the more the brain damage will affect her.” Her sobs turned hysterical. “Start CPR. Start CPR. Start CPR.”
“She doesn’t need CPR, you idiot!” Alyssa yelled back.
“Charlie, you’ll be okay,” I whispered, placing a large palm on her cheek and leaning in closer.
Where was Randy? I blew out a breath, anxiety seeping in.
“Please, Connor. Save her. CPR! Now! Now! Now!”
Without warning, Casey shoved me down, and my lips met Charlie’s.
“What the fuck, Casey? You’re batshit crazy!” Alyssa said.
I wasn’t prepared for Casey to shove me down toward Charlie. But most of all, I wasn’t prepared for Charlie’s lips to be so soft, so warm, so damn sexy.
I shouldn’t be aroused when she was on the floor and knocked out, but, shit, her lips were so damn delicious that I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I was still lip-locked with her.
It was only Alyssa’s loud clearing of her throat that broke me from my thoughts.
“Ahem,” she said.
I pushed to a kneeling position. “She’s breathing.” Shit, but was I?
My eyes flickered back to her lips. Plump. Pink.
I shook my head through the fog. “Where the hell is Randy, and why is he taking so long? And why did Casey do that? Where is she?” When I directed my question to Alyssa, I noticed she was smirking.
“I sent Casey to get him.”
Oh, crap, I hadn’t noticed.
For a hot second, I had blocked everything out, and the only ones who existed were me and Charlie—and her lips.
I reached for her palm and squeezed it. I didn’t know if it was meant to comfort her or me so that I knew she was warm and fine and alive.
“Glad you checked she’s all right.” She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest, a knowing look on her face.
I hated how Alyssa was always perceptive. All. The. Time.
I cleared my throat. “Casey pushed me toward her.” My voice shook. It was almost as if I had to think of an excuse to give her because I had been kissing Charlie for more than a few seconds. And I wanted to do it again. Those lips were meant to be kissed, to be tasted, to be devoured.
“Yep. Saw that. Saw you down there for a while, being thorough.” The side of her mouth quirked up.
I didn’t have a chance to respond to her because Randy stepped into the room.
I reluctantly released Charlie’s hand and made room for Randy, who knelt beside her with his medical bag.
“How long has she been out?”
“Five minutes or so,” said Alyssa.
I gripped my own arms, forcing myself to stay still, because I wanted to hold her again, hold her so badly.
Randy took a small, clear vial out of his medical bag. He twisted the top of the vial and placed it under Charlie’s nostrils. “Did she hit her head?”
“She did.” Casey sniffled.
“What is that?” I asked as he waved the vial in a circular motion under her nostrils.
“It’s ammonia, an inhalant for those who suffer from syncope.”
What the hell was syncope?
“Loss of consciousness,” he replied, answering my internal question.
“Come on, Charlie,” I caught myself saying.
I held my breath. I thought the whole room did.
After a few seconds, her eyes flickered open, then shut, and then opened again. Her eyebrows scrunched together.
“Yeah …” Her voice was groggy. “I’m sorry. I fainted.”
I took a step forward, but before I reached her, Casey basically pushed Randy aside and dropped onto Charlie, crushing herself against Charlie’s body. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I released a long, heavy breath and lifted my stare to the ceiling. “Thank God.”
With a tip of her chin, Alyssa nodded with a heavy smirk on her face. “Thank God indeed.”
She knew.
She knew about my deep infatuation with Charlie.
There was no doubt.
Charlie
At five years old, when the nurse had taken my blood, I’d passed out at the doctor’s office. That was how I knew I had an aversion to blood. And at every single appointment—yearly, I must add—I fainted. It was an automatic response. It didn’t matter if I closed my eyes or they laid me down. I always fainted.
Was it at the sight of blood? Was it the smell of blood? Was it all in my brain?
I didn’t know.
All I knew was that I couldn’t see it, smell it, or even imagine about it.
I had been known as Fainting Charlie in grade school. It was a widely known nickname throughout my childhood. All those science projects where we had to dissect frogs and worms in class, I had to opt out of those. I’d had a doctor’s note.
It was the oddest thing, fainting in front of my coworker-friends and boss man. I usually fainted around doctors or my parents but never in front of other peo
ple. I could predict when an episode would happen because it was always during annual appointments, and I avoided any situation where I would possibly have an attack. Donating blood events? Nope. Never going to happen.
When I had gained consciousness, Casey had treated me like I was a little child, bringing me lunch the next day and buying me my favorite Starbucks coffee. Alyssa had simply nagged Casey for crowding me.
But what was weird was Connor. He couldn’t stop looking at me. His nonstop staring had heightened since the pool house. I mean, I’d turn, and he’d just stare—not in a creepy way, but in a way that would make my cheeks warm and make me feel as though he was picturing me more than naked in the pool house.
Which was absurd because, this was me, and he was hot millionaire Connor.
I was fixing Mr. Nelson’s computer. I was reaching to the back of his monitor when Connor’s voice almost had me tipping the whole screen over.
“Charlie.”
I jerked to a standing position and steadied the screen. “Yep?”
His eyes flickered to my lips and then back to my eyes.
And, yes, he did that often as well. I wondered if my lips were dry or chapped or bleeding. When I licked them, his eyes would always flash.
I took my ChapStick out from my back pocket and reapplied it. Going by this rate, I’d have to buy the economy pack of ChapSticks by the end of the week.
“Can you stop by my office to talk about the marketing plans?”
I blinked up at him. “Yep. Sure. Let me just finish up here.”
His eyes scoured my body, and I warmed everywhere his eyes touched.
Good gosh, were we ever going to get to the place of normalcy? I knew we had been close to making out on the boardroom conference room, but we were semi-normal after that. Maybe this was how it was always going to be.
If you could call this undeniable attraction to him as normal, but it was as though he felt it too.
I mean, I’d felt his hard length against my thigh. Unless I’d imagined it.
“I’ll wait for you in my office.”
“Okay.”
He backed away backward, which was odd because, hello, walking backward. And his eyes were on me the whole time.
He knocked into a desk before laughing, turning around, and trekking back to his office.
I checked out his fine ass. If he was going to seemingly check me out, I wanted to enjoy the view as well.
Connor
I had an issue. A major damn issue.
I couldn’t for the life of me get Charlie out of my system. When I closed my eyes, she was there, and I preferred to be in the office, so I could see her more. My infatuation for her had heightened to unhealthy proportions. Shit, I had to jack off multiple times to tame the ever-loving hard-on I got every time I thought of her. At this rate, there was no doubt I’d have carpal tunnel soon.
When she entered the room, I took her in.
Her hair was up in a flowy ponytail, and her pants hugged her hips and ass as though they were cold. And I was jealous of her damn pants. I wanted to keep her ass warm.
I swallowed.
“Sit down.” She walked toward me.
In my head, it played out like a porno—her moving stealthily like a cat toward my chair. In my dreams, she’d hop on the table and strip for me.
“So …” I adjusted my collar. Is it hot in here? “I was thinking”—about your lips, about your body—“about the commercial we are going to do.”
She laughed as she took out her ChapStick and reapplied it to her lips again. The tint made her lips fuller.
I blew out a breath.
“I haven’t even agreed to anything yet,” she said.
She’d come up with the grand idea, and we were going to do a commercial to launch the concept to the board. I wanted us to film the commercial and present it together.
“I’m the face of the company, so it makes sense that I am involved, and it was your idea, so it only makes sense that you are involved.”
“I’m not commercial material.” She pulled her hair over her shoulder, twiddling with the ends.
“Whatever. You’re beautiful …” Our eyes locked again, and I cleared my throat. “It’ll translate well on camera. And you know the emotion that we are trying to convey. Charlie … please. I need you.”
Weren’t those the words of the century? How many times had I uttered those words to only this woman?
I needed her to help with the marketing efforts and rebranding of Colby Chocolates, and now, I needed her to film this commercial.
She chewed on her bottom lip like it was her favorite meal, and I wanted to help with the process and tell her I was hungry too.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
Her agreement had my eyes flying up to meet hers.
I didn’t think I could smile any bigger. “Perfect. We’ll go shopping tonight.”
“Shopping?” Her eyebrows flew to her hairline.
“I’ve secured the production company to film this commercial. I’ve talked to my friend Wyatt about booking the locations where we are going to film. He owns a small production company and is the director for short films. I’ve also hired hair and makeup, but we need to go shopping for what we have to wear.”
She blinked again. “Can’t I just wear what I have?” Then, her eyebrows furrowed. “Forget it. I have nothing to wear. Tonight?” She straightened in her seat. “Okay. Tonight works.”
“Dinner first and then shopping?” Man, I was asking her on a date.
My question took her aback. “You mean, boardroom Chinese food?” There was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
I hadn’t meant Chinese food in the boardroom. This woman deserved a nice dinner, and if I was being truthful to myself, I wanted to take her out.
“I was going to take you somewhere special.” I cleared my throat again, suddenly nervous.
When a panicked look crossed her features, I added, “You’ve done so much for me … for this company. The least I can do is take you to a nice dinner.”
She looked down at what she was wearing. “Tonight?”
“Yes. And what you’re wearing is fine. I’ll take you somewhere nice but not anywhere that requires a certain dress code, okay?” There will be time for that later. As soon as my subconscious brain filtered that thought, I paused.
Charlie stood. “I still have work to do, but I’ll see you after work. I can’t do dinner tonight though. I have plans with my mom.”
My stomach sank and kept on going.
“All right, I’ll see you after work.” With Charlie, I realized I’d take what I could get.
Charlie
We were seated at the lunch table. Casey slid a Potbelly’s sandwich my way. My favorite—a meatball sub.
“Hey, girlie pie,” she said, plopping besides me.
Alyssa followed her in, sitting in her regular spot.
In a matter of weeks, I’d fit snuggly into their friend group, and I couldn’t be happier.
With Casey and Alyssa, the trying phase had ceased, and I was allowed to just be my true self. If it was silent, which it hardly ever was because we had Casey, it was fine.
I unwrapped my sandwich. “You don’t have to buy me lunch every day. You need to stop feeling guilty for things that were out of your control. I’ve been fainting at the sight of blood since I was five.”
“I want to feed you. Then, I’ll know you’re healthy and alive and here,” Casey replied.
Alyssa rolled her eyes. “If you haven’t noticed, Casey will forever be the motherly type and try to take care of you. If you’re getting free lunch out of it, keep reaping the rewards.”
Connor entered the break room, and we all peeked up. He walked toward the vending machines on the far end of the room but not before his eyes met mine. I waved, and he smiled.
He greeted a few more of his employees right by the vending machines, and when he made his way back, he stopped at our table.
“Hey.” He waved aga
in. “How are you feeling?”
His eyes flickered to my lips, to my hair, to my chest, and I held my breath.
There were boundaries, and I wouldn’t cross those boundaries with the boss man. And I got that going shopping was needed to film the commercial, but an added dinner right before seemed like it was asking for trouble.
And it seemed as though he were only addressing me and no one else at the table.
Alyssa and Casey shared a glance, and I warmed from the inside out.
“Good.” I averted my stare and bumped shoulders against Casey. “This girl has been buying me lunch ever since the fainting incident.”
“Meatball sub. Is that your favorite? I wouldn’t peg you as a meatball girl. Maybe sausage. But not meatball.” His smile widened.
“And what is that supposed to mean? Can you just look at a woman and guess if she is a meatball or sausage girl?” Alyssa laughed beside Casey. “What would you peg me as?”
Connor’s cheeks reddened. I’d actually never seen him turn red in the face. That was my job in our relationship.
“You …” He pointed to Alyssa. “You’re a meatball girl.” He shifted his stance and held up his bag of Fritos. “Lunch. And I’d better get to it.” He about-faced and walked straight out of the break room.
Casey and Alyssa shared their knowing glance again, and it drove me insane.
“What is going on? What’s up with the looks, and what is it with Connor acting all strange?”
I knew why he was acting weird. I didn’t want to throw in there that the reason was because, oddly, we always found ourselves in compromising positions—first naked and then on top of the boardroom table.
“Maybe … it’s because of you.” Alyssa unwrapped her own sandwich, undoubtedly some fancy steak sandwich from a high-end bistro that wasn’t a chain.
“Me?” I croaked.
“Or not you per se. But maybe your lips.”
Casey shoved Alyssa, and her sandwich slipped from her hands and fell to the table. “Hey!”
“Ugh, do you have to constantly embarrass me? I’m already buying her lunch to make up for—”