Page 45 of The Charm of You

And I wish the echoes of her satisfied whimpers weren’t playing on a loop in my head, haunting—and taunting—me.

I want to fucking kiss her again, and I really shouldn’t. No good can come of it.

Thirty minutes later, my nerves are still twitching, and my head hurts with warring emotions wrestling in there.

With a good shirt in place over my jeans, I lock my apartment door right as a pair of headlights blind me.

I crack a knuckle, a bad habit I thought I kicked five years ago, but this isn’t just an ordinary Monday night. What should’ve been a quiet one to myself to wash my damn clothes is now becoming a circus.

I reach the driveway in time to open Paulette’s car door and help her out as Caroline hoists herself from the passenger side.

Paulette greets and thanks me with a smile, and as I follow her around the front of the car, my eyes immediately flick to Caroline. It’s like I can’t help myself. She pulls my focus to her like a fish lure—hook, line, and sinker.

“Hi,” she offers, lingering a few feet behind her mother as we caravan up to the porch.

The breeze catches wisps of Caroline’s hair in its journey, tossing a few strands over her shoulder. The hem of her thick sweaterdress stops just above her knee, and a belt cinches her slender waist. The real punch to my dick is her choice in shoes—she’s wearing boots that rise over her knees. Of course, they’re heeled too, and they make her legs stretch on for days.

My steps slow as my mother bursts onto the porch and gathers Paulette into a hug. Caroline’s next. I hang back, scratching the side of my head as I contemplate faking a cold or a terrible case of smallpox. I’m never one to purposely get out of my mother’s cooking, but this situation might warrant drastic measures.

“You coming?”

From where I stand on the bottom step, I lift my head and find Caroline leaning over the railing, her pink lips curling into a smile. Both of our mothers have disappeared inside, and she and I are left alone for the second time today.

“I never miss a pot roast.” I hop up the steps and reach the front door, where her fingers wrap around my forearm.

“Can we talk for a second?” she asks, letting her hand linger on my exposed skin. Why did I roll my damn sleeves up?

I ease the door shut, painfully aware that there are two nosy women on the other side of it. The sounds of their giggles seem to arise from farther away, but I don’t trust them not to have their ears glued to the door or window to eavesdrop.

“We talk a lot,” I say to Caroline.

She pulls her hand away and swipes her hair behind her ear. “Well, we do more than talk.” Her blushing cheeks pull a smirk out of me, and I’m even more amused when she clears her throat.

Has she thought about our kiss as much as I have? If I had to bet, I’d say she has.

“That’s actually what I want to talk to you about,” she says with more confidence. “Since you and I agreed we wouldn’t let anything more happen between us, I figured dinner tonight would be a good opportunity to call a truce and be friends.”

I cock a brow.

“Our mothers are very close, so this won’t be the last time you and I will enjoy a pot roast together while I’m in town. Plus, you and I have our reunion this weekend, and we’re both friends with Addie.” Her sharp inhale matches the cold snap that whisks between us. “There’s no reason you and I can’t be… friends.”

“Friends it is, then.”

“Good.” She sways side to side but makes no move to enter the house.

“Are we supposed to shake on it, or something?”

“Do you want to shake on it?” Amusement floods her blue eyes, and they’re fucking daring me to a challenge I can’t quite comprehend.

Intrigue urges me forward, and I whisper, “I’d rather do a lot more than shake your hand, but since we’re just friends and all…”

Her features quickly darken, but I don’t dwell in her orbit. Instead, I jerk the door open, place my hand on the small of her back, and guide my pretty friend inside.

chapter

fourteen

CAROLINE

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