Page 46 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
I could picture it: Bennett going into his brother’s room and distracting him with stories, making him drink water, and staying with him until he fell back asleep. Did it make me a bad person that I felt better knowing Jules had panic attacks too? It’s not that Iwantedhim to have panic attacks, but if someone like Jules experienced panic, then maybe I wasn’t weak because of them.
Bennett’s nonchalance was helpful too. I’d only had one panic attack in front of Greg, and he’d acted like I’d overreacted. Like I’d chosen to have a panic attack, and I could just as easily choose not to have one.
Even now, the worry that he was right lingered. Maybe it always would.
“You’re a good brother.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m just doing what anyone would do.”
No, not anyone would do that. It did make me wonder if Bennett felt like he had to make life easier for everyone else, even at his own expense. What did that belief do to a person?
Drive them to marry someone they didn’t even love.
Who was making Bennett’s life easier?
Bennett changed the subject to talk about his first time leading his own fishing excursion, which had me laughing and moving even further away from my panic. A part of me knew he was still trying to distract me, but a bigger part of me didn’t care. He was offering me respite, and I was just desperate enough to hold on tight.
17
BENNETT
Iawoke to the feel of gentle puffs of breath against my neck. I blinked my eyes a few times to orient myself. My wedding. The guest room. Charlie.
We’d fallen asleep while talking—Charlie first, and then I’d drifted off while making sure Charlie was asleep enough that I could leave without waking her up.
She was curled up next to me, her hand splayed against my stomach where my shirt had ridden up in the night. Sunlight filtered in through the crack in the blackout curtains, cutting a line across our outstretched legs.
My arm was numb, and my back screamed from sleeping half-sitting up. But I’d never woken up so content in my life. Charlie adjusted in her sleep, her hand sliding across my skin in a burning path that made me suck in a breath through my teeth.
Maybe content was the wrong word. So aware of every movement Charlie made I was onfire… whatever that emotion was.
I studied her while she slept. The lines around her mouth were tight, like she couldn’t fully relax even in sleep. Her thick lashes swept across her red-splotched cheeks. She still woremy T-shirt and rubber ducky boxers. I couldn’t think too much about how it felt to see her wearing my clothes. Not just wearing them—sleeping in them. Waking up next to me in them.
I’d told her things last night I’d never told anyone before. I knew she felt vulnerable, having a panic attack in front of me, and I’d felt compelled to be vulnerable too. But maybe I’d gone too far, telling her so much about my childhood. With her hand running comfortingly across my back, I’d told her far more than I’d intended to.
And could have kept talking all night. Talking to Charlie was like sailing on the perfect day. Effortless and exhilarating at the same time.
Now, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as Charlie’s hand slid around my ribs—every inch across my skin causing absolute chaos for my heart rate—which put her even closer to me. Her lips were pressed to my racing pulse.
What would those pretty lips taste like? Our kiss yesterday had been too chaste, too quick, to tell. The temptation to see was nearly overwhelming.Andlike a bucket of ice water being dumped over me.
Wondering about kissing Charlie? Not okay.
Actually debating trying it? Criminal. Creepy. Intriguing.
Okay, time to go.
I moved excruciatingly slow in my attempt to extricate myself from Charlie without waking her up, which meant the soft skin of her fingers slid ever so slowly against my stomach—a brain-altering kaleidoscope of sensation I gritted my teeth against. The circulation returned to my arm painfully, every pin and needle a good reminder that I needed to reel in whateverthiswas.
Thiswild torture circus was no good.
Very, very bad.
Charlie said something in her sleep and grabbed for me again. I slid like a jellyfish onto the floor and out of her reach, where I lay looking as pathetic as I felt. My heart racing as fast as if I’d evaded some poisonous touch.
I knew what this marriage was. Charlie was my little sister’s best friend. The cousin of the ex who shattered my heart. A freakinguniversityprofessor who was ten times smarter than me and way out of my league. A woman who was in love with another man—one who was wealthy beyond what I’d ever be. Not available in any way, shape, or form.
But she took my breath away. I swore quietly.
