Page 24 of Shadowing Charlotte
"You don't have to do that, Charlie." My words were almost inaudible, sticking like cotton to my tongue.
She smiled over her drink at me. "I know. But you still have a mom, and I don't. I would like to meet her."
My eyes watered at her words as my throat tightened, the kitchen suddenly feeling too fucking warm. There was very little that stirred my emotions and made me feel like crying, but Charlotte had managed it. I crossed the short space between us and wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her hair.
"You're amazing, Charlotte. You know that?" I asked against her shoulder.
"I know," she replied, amusement her voice. "That's why you love me…"
I couldn't reply. There were no words to express the way Charlotte made me feel. I'd never told a woman I'd loved her, no one except my mother. But with Charlie, I felt like, someday, maybe I could.
Dinner was quiet, but not unpleasantly so. We made small talk, telling each other about our day. Charlie went over how long it had taken to get a rental because her insurance didn't want to cover it. I explained to her, without going into detail about the Guzman's, how I was a private investigator of sorts.
"Is that why it was so easy for you to follow me?" she asked between bites.
"The opposite, actually. The occupation sort of found me, once I realized I had a knack for it." A quiet kind of pride bloomed inside me as I smiled at her.
"Well, if you ever decide to quit, you'd make a decent chef," she told me. I rolled my eyes, grinning at her. "No, I'm serious. This is really good," she insisted sweetly, taking another bite.
When dinner was over, we cleaned up together, standing side by side as she rinsed the dishes and I loaded them into the washer. It was a bizarre experience. I felt like we'd been together for years, like we were a family. As the dishes washed, Charlie and I sat on the couch. I scrolled through my phone, and she sat beside me, reading over manuscripts. More than once, I bit back a comment about how cute and nerdy she looked with her glasses on. Eventually, the phone drooped in my hand, and I found myself watching her.
Even her simple movements fascinated me in ways I couldn't begin to put into words. Every so often, she would wrinkle her nose or shake her head, writing notes on the paper and chewing on the end of her pen. I didn't know how long we'd been sitting there, but eventually, she pulled the glasses off and rubbed her eyes.
"Ready for bed?" I asked, sitting up.
Charlotte dropped the paper stack. Sliding her glasses into her case, she looked over at me, her golden eyes sparkling. If she was tired, she no longer showed it. She dragged me into the bathroom, both of us tearing at one another's clothes until we were naked. Under the steaming water, I fucked her against the shower wall, cumming inside her while she raked her nails down my back. We were both asleep before midnight, wrapped around each other in her bed like entwining vines.
I woke to the chime of Charlotte's phone, finding the bed beside me empty. It was a text from her father.
Everything has been taken care of. Call me tomorrow.
"Charlie?" It was nearly two in the morning. Where was she? "Charlotte?"
She was sitting on the couch. The manuscript she'd been working on was in her lap, but she wasn't reading it. She was staring at the phone in her hand—my phone— her eyes glued to the screen. "Charlie?"
"Zane texted you," she informed me. Her words sounded hollow, cold and unfeeling. The strange, detached tone of her voice made my stomach twist.
"Okay, I'll just—"
"You're going to get the fuck out of my house…" she interrupted in that same empty voice.
"What? Charlie, come on. I—" My words were halted as she rose from her seat, the manuscript falling to the floor with athwack. Her hands were shaking as she held up the phone. I took a hesitant step forward, my eyes squinting as I tried to look at the screen.
Fuck.I froze. She'd opened my camera roll, the naked picture of Lilly on the screen—with my dick still inside her. "Charlotte, It'snot—"
"You messaged me… And I replied," she told me, her voice low and trembling. "I called Adam, because you werebusy. I wanted you… I was here, being called a slut for something I hadn't done, being hit because he found your stupid fucking card, and you were sticking your cock in some bitch?!" By the time she'd finished, she was shouting at me, her honey eyes filled with tears.
"Charlotte, you have every right to be upset," I tried to reason with her, "but we weren't together then, baby…"
"I'm not your fucking baby!" she screamed at me. "We weren't togetherthen?!It was three fucking days ago! I let you fuck me right after you fucked someone else!" She threw the phone at me, the screen shattering as it hit the ground.
I wasn't worried about the fucking phone. The tears in her eyes spilled down her cheeks, the sight making me feel like my heart had been ripped from my chest.
"Charlotte, please… Let me explain," I pleaded gently, holding my hands up, feeling like I was approaching an injured animal that would strike at me. "Look, I was pissed off, and my friend—"
"I don't fucking care!" she sobbed, sinking into the couch, burying her face in her hands. "I'm so fucking stupid…" she groaned, her body shaking.
"Charlotte, it wasn't—" The moment I touched her shoulder, she recoiled as if I'd scalded her.
