Page 20 of The Power Play

Chandler and I have hung out whenever we both have free time over this last week, and it reminded me of when we lived together. We got to watch one hockey game that I decided not to work because I missed our hockey dates. She came over to Charlie’s place because she wanted to see it. Then proceeded to hound me about when I’m going to sleep with him. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, obviously. But since he knows what I do I know he would only be interested because of that. He made it clear before that he’s not interested inme.

I’m sitting on my bed picking at some cookie dough ice cream making sure I get a piece with each bite while working on aschedule for myself that I can post so my viewers know when I’ll be on. I hear the front door open then close signaling he’s home. I wonder how to approach this situation. Should I go out and say hi? Welcome home? Or should I stay out of his way and pretend I’m not even here.

I can hear his footsteps move around the condo while I continue my internal debate. The door to my room is closed and I see a shadow underneath it where it stops for a moment. I anticipate a knock, a voice, something. After a beat, the shadow retreats and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Part of me was hoping he wanted to acknowledge me, and I know I need to knock that shit off. Without dwelling too much on why I wanted that, I put my headphones on, turn up the music and get back to what I was doing.

Once I’m done with everything on my to do list I realize it’s been a couple hours and I remove my headphones to reveal the silent space. My stomach growls and I’m hoping Charlie is asleep or out somewhere. I peek out of my door, still not hearing or seeing him. I take it as my sign to venture into the kitchen for a snack.

The under-cabinet lighting is the only thing illuminating the large open kitchen. I’m careful with my steps because if Charlie is home, I don’t want to disturb him. My goal is to be out of each other’s way as much as humanly possible. I head right to the fridge because I bought a small number of groceries to have here for the time being.

As I’m pulling out the sandwich ingredients and balancing them all in my arms at once there’s a warmth at my back and a toned arm reaches over my shoulder to grab a water bottlefrom the fridge. I gasp, struggling to hold onto my food as I turn around and confront the owner of the arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demand.

“Getting some water from my fridge. What are you doing?” His tone is joking, but my heart is racing from him sneaking up on me and his current proximity to me.

I lift my arms slightly, “Making a sandwich.”

He nods slightly and still hasn’t backed up a single inch. His eyes drag up from my arms up to my eyes. He’s so close to me, crowding me against the open fridge, the coolness at my back and his warmth at my front. I realize the state of undress we are both in. He’s shirtless, revealing his incredibly toned body that has been hidden by clothes every time I’ve seen him, and I’ve decided it should be a crime for him to wear a shirt. Plus, the gray sweatpants he’s wearing are the sluttiest thing I’ve ever seen on a man. I’m only in a t-shirt and underwear and maybe I should be embarrassed by that, but I’m not. I actually don’t mind him seeing me like this. I kind of revel in it.

“I wasn’t sure if you were here,” he says, breaking the silence between us.

“Yeah, welcome back by the way.” I glance behind him wondering if he’s going to let me leave this spot at any point.Or if I want him to.

“Thanks,” his eyes drag down my body, this time the whole way and I see him taking in the amount of skin I’m showing. I stay completely still, refusing to make it seem like I’m affected by his gaze in any way. “Did you watch any of the games?”

I shrug, “A couple.”

“What did you think?”

I shrug again, “You guys seem to be playing really well.”

The tension between us is a mix of awkward and something…else.The warmth of his skin is begging for my hands to touch it. I’m fighting the urge for my body to sway any closer to his and for him to touch me anywhere. Something flashes across Charlie’s face like he’s feeling the same tension right before he shakes his head and backs away from me enough that I can step around him. He runs a hand through his hair and as I’m setting everything on the counter, he looks like he wants to say something else to me but presses his lips together instead.

“Have a good night, Audrey. Enjoy your sandwich.” He doesn’t look at me again as he walks back toward his bedroom.

I furrow my brows watching his back as he retreats. The man is confusing, standoffish at times, but then does things like kiss me back and trap me at a fridge while we are both barely dressed.Fuck it. I’m not going to continue this awkwardness. We can ignore each other while I’m here, but I’m not dealing with the back and forth from him, that’s just not who I am.

Leaving everything on the counter I storm through the condo to his bedroom, knocking only once before swinging the door open anyway. He’s lounging on his bed with his phone in his hand, looking at me in shock. I can’t help but take in his room, it’s cozy with dim lighting and dark furniture.

When I look back at him, this feeling of familiarity comes over me seeing him shirtless leaning against his headboard. His body, the sweatpants sitting low on his hips, the headboard….

“Oh my fucking God!” It hits me then and I feel like a complete idiot not connecting the dots earlier. “You’re Charles.”

He shoots up off his bed and approaches me, but I back up a step, shaking my head at him. “How long have you known who I am?” I ask.

Charlie shakes his head, stepping toward me again, but I take another step back.

“Did you know when you stood me up? Is thatwhyyou stood me up?” I accuse. I know the stigma that comes with sex work. I’m not ashamed of it, but I know guys can assume we are all easy or think it’s gross.

“No, that was really an accident.”

“What about when you came over to help?”

“No. I didn’t,” he groans, running his hand through his hair which is clearly his nervous tell. “I found out when I saw the room.”

“And yet you still continued to watch me? Buy me things? Talk to me like you didn’t know?Invite me to stay at your house?” I’m fuming. Not at the fact that he knows, but the fact that he hid it. He didn’t come clean as CharlieorCharles and let me continue to believe he was a stranger.

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