Page 27 of Charlie

I arch against the seat when he pushes his thumb into the center of my palm, a low moan teasing its way out of my throat.

"God, Charlie," he rasps, his eyes dark.

"Let's go," I beg, "Please."

"Going." He cranks the wheel, spins us around, and peels out of the parking area. I shriek, uncontrollable giggles tumbling from my mouth. "I like when you laugh," he says, smiling. The planes of his face glow in the light of the dashboard. He lifts my hand to the shifter knob, his hand covering mine as he downshifts.

"I really like you," I blurt.

He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park. We sit in the dark for a second before he jerks the keys from the ignition. He gets out and slams the door.

My heartbeat is pounding in my ears, mortification creeping up my neck. I start to open my door, but he wrenches it open and pulls me out. His lips are on my throat, his body molding to mine, pressing me against the car.

"I like you, too," he growls, his tongue swiping over my pulse. "God, I've wanted to do this all night. But there were too many people. And then Jay stole you away." He bites the area between my neck and shoulder, and I melt against him. We lose ourselves in each other's eyes for two beats before our lips collide. I'm desperate for his touch, but his fingers are cupped around my jaw, holding my mouth to his. I whimper in protest, arching into him, biting and pulling at his lower lip. His hands slide down my neck, over my shoulders, and down my arms, not stopping until his fingers are linked with mine. I try to pull away, needing to touch him.

He pulls his head back, groaning, "You can't touch me unless we're taking this back to your bed, Charlie." His pupils are blown out, his cheeks flushed.

"Come on, then." I pull him toward the cottage. The wind blows off the sea, rough and wild. Blood thrums through my veins. I haven't felt this alive since – a pang shoots through me – since Cameron. I look up at the moon as Lach wraps his arms around me, wondering if Cam is looking up at it, too. Lach's face blocks my view, so I close my eyes and live for this moment.

17

Ireach behind me and fumble with the doorknob as I sink into Lach's lips. We stumble through the door, kicking it closed behind us. He pushes me against it, cradling my face in his hands. I unfasten his jacket and push it over his shoulders; he pulls his hands away long enough to let it drop to the floor, then slides his fingers up my legs, hooking my thighs. I groan into his mouth as he pulls my legs around his waist, his hands on my ass supporting my weight. He moves away from the door, but we only make it two feet before he presses me into the bookshelves, his pelvis pinning me in place.

The second I feel those shelves on my back, my mind races back to that night in the bookstore. Dark curls. Midnight eyes. My heart throbs with pain and I break the kiss with a gasp. "I'm sorry. I'm not ready to do this."

He gently sets me on the floor, wrapping his arm around me and pulling my head to his chest. "There's nothing to be sorry for." He kisses my hair, rubbing comforting circles on my back. "Do you want me to leave?" He pulls back and nudges my chin so I'm looking at him.

"No—" I blurt, involuntarily squeezing him tighter.

"Why don't I go grab some food and we can just hang out?"

I nod, unable to find the words to tell him what I'm feeling.

He kisses my forehead. "Get changed into something comfortable while I'm gone, okay?"

I nod again and watch as he leaves, my mind racing. The fact that he's going to get me food after I turned him down makes tears well in my eyes. The last twenty-four hours have been so overwhelming.

The door opens and Lach pops his head in, "I forgot to give you this earlier; it was delivered today." He sets a package just inside the door and leaves again.

I change into shorts and a t-shirt, then scrub the makeup from my face before my curiosity gets the best of me. The package is wrapped in brown paper. I flip it over to find African stamps covering most of the other side. Cameron. My hands shake as I ease the paper open and slide out a book. It's an old copy of Pride and Prejudice. A note flutters to the floor when I open the cover.

My Dearest Charlie,

I can't stop thinking about how much of a mistake this was. I miss you. I desperately hope you are not as miserable as I.

Yours Always,

Cam.

Regret shoots through me. I never should have told him to go. I wish I had been selfish and insisted he stay. I thumb through the pages, reading the passages that he had underlined in pencil.

"Till this moment I never knew myself."

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on the subject forever."

"Charlie?"

I slam the book closed, my heart in my throat.

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