Page 82 of Not in the Plan

“Everything’s okay. Everything.”

The relief poured in. Indecision poured out. Mack kicked her shoes to the side, and Charlie reached for her. The heat in Charlie’s hands soaked her skin as Charlie pushed Mack’s shirt up, her lips only leaving Mack’s to graze her neck. Mack held the swell of Charlie’sass, pulled her in tight, and rocked against her.

A frenetic energy inundated the air. An urgency pushed on Mack like she’d lose everything if she didn’t share her body with Charlie right this second. She needed to connect to Charlie. To prove to herself, to prove to Charlie, that everything was real.

Mack wanted it messy and dirty but needed it sweet and comforting. She craved being held and pinched and soft fingers and whispered to that they’d figure everything out and would take this ride together.

When Mack sucked on Charlie’s bottom lip, the sweetness of tea and vanilla filled her. She skimmed her thumbs across Charlie’s nipples and melted with each moan. Fingertips dug into her back, and Mack crumbled against the sensation.

Zippers undone, bras unfastened and tossed, skin turned warm, moist. They stumbled down the hall like neither one could lose contact with the other, or the spell would break. Mack trembled, fear and happiness colliding. She hadno ideathat everything could feel this good. Her heart, her mind, her body. All synchronized swimmers in this pool of…

Yes, she had to say it. ShelovedCharlie. And she was pretty sure Charlie loved her, too. She’d protect Charlie. And she’d let herself be protected.

They fell on the bed, the headboard banging into the wall with a vibrating thud, and the urgency broke. Mack pampered herself with Charlie’s silky skin. Her mouth begged to experience every piece of her. Charlie slid down, and Mack sat back on her knees. Tonight, every part of Charlie would receive the attention it deserved. She brushed her finger across the birthmark on Charlie’s upper thigh. She kissed the daisy tattoo on Charlie’s calf. She glided her tongue across Charlie’s wrist.

“Does this feel good?” Mack asked as she swept her tongue across the lily on Charlie’s lower belly.

“Yes…”

How did she get so lucky? How did she stumble into Sugar Mugs and meet Charlie and get tobewith her? Got to know her, understand her, and love her. Was any of this real? Did she dream Charlie up, create this perfect being in her mind?

None of this made logical sense.

But she didn’t need it to make sense.

Mack pushed her thumbs against Charlie’s thighs, trailing from the knee and higher as Charlie’s limbs shook beneath her. Mack’s fingertips sunk into Charlie, and her back curved. They rocked together, slow, steady, rhythmic. Heartbeats matched. Breathing matched. Mack cupped Charlie’s body, held her close, and they moved together. Mack never wanted to leave.

Charlie flipped Mack over, her skin glistening, her breaths heavy. Charlie kneaded Mack’s skin and feathered her fingertips so delicately that Mack thought she’d die from anticipation. She quivered underneath Charlie’s smooth touch.

Time was inconsequential. Words weren’t needed. Everything outside didn’t exist. There was no manuscript. There was no coffee shop. There was just them. Connecting, genuinely connecting, in a way she’d never connected to anyone before.

Exhausted and dreamy, Charlie laid her head in Mack’s lap, and Mack twirled her silky locks with her fingers. When Charlie’s breaths shifted, turning heavy with sleep, Mack looked down at her. The angel in her lap. The heaven she didn’t know existed. Her heart swelled, and she blinked back tears.

Confident Charlie was asleep, Mack whispered, “I love you.”

Charlie’s thumb, hazy and light, swiped against her leg. “I love you, too…”

TWENTY-SEVEN

CHARLIE’S DRINK SPECIAL: EXTRA-LARGE LITE EVERYTHING

Crumpled sheets swaddled Charlie as she rolled over and drew Mack closer. Mack softly raked her fingers through Charlie’s hair, sending shivers up her spine. Only a week had passed since Mack stopped by and cracked the “I love you” seal, but eternity could pass, and Charlie would never get sick of how they ended up every night: snuggles, massages, and sexy time.

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars not to go to work today.” Mack’s drowsy voice funneled in the dark.

“Deal. Same goes for you,” Charlie said with a grin, knowing it’d never happen.

This past week, Charlie focused on her customers and organizing the shop while Mack holed herself up at her parents’ condo, burying herself in writing for twelve to sixteen hours a day. But every night, she showed up at Charlie’s with takeout and an overnight bag. By day two, Charlie’s chest stopped sinking every time the jingle sounded, and it wasn’t Mack. By day five, Charlie’s body turned into Pavlov’s dog whenever she heard Mack’s footsteps up her stairs.

Mack nuzzled into Charlie’s neck. “My parents have been up my ass all week to have you over for a movie night. Sorry, they’re relentless. You good with that?”

Not only good but spending time with parents who treated her more like a daughter from Day One sounded incredible. “Yep. Tonight work?”

“Unfortunately.” Mack groaned with a chuckle.

Charlie dragged herself to the shower and her thoughts swirled. When she and Jess first got together, their relationship combined the thrill of sneaking away from Jess’s parents, the passion of exploring sex for the first time, and constant conversations about what it would be like when they were adults and away from their miserable parents. Everything with Mack differed.

When Mack kissed her, Charlie’s toes curled. Her heart skipped. She wanted to see Mack smile, to hear her moan. Charlie wanted to feel Mack on her fingertips, to bathe in her breath. She wanted to giggle at Mack’s dry humor and listen to her read passages from her book. But the sensation wasn’t frantic, or addictive. It was stable.

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