Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Charlie
It takes me forever to fall asleep.
It takes Ruby no time at all. When I turn off the bedside lamp, her almost-snores start within minutes.
I might be Chill Charlie, but she’s the one who can conk out anywhere.
I don’t know how long I lay there listening to her breathing, but that’s not what keeps me awake.
It’s not even the distant sounds from other rooms or the unfamiliar noises of the way the hotel settles or the different pitch of the air conditioner from my own.
It's hope.
Hope that creeps in when I’m too tired to keep it out. Who is it that says it’s the hope that kills you?
Ruby’s words from earlier keep replaying. We kiss each other like that’s what we were born for.
I wish I could toss and turn, but I stay still and stare at the smoke detector battery light that bores into my eyeball like a thousand-watt spotlight.
Is it possible? Am I wrong? Can she love me with the same intensity I feel if I’ve given it years and she had to be thunderstruck?
The questions chase themselves with no answer. At some point, long past the point where I know it’s so late I’ll pay for it tomorrow, I fall asleep.
At least there’s a karmic balance as I drift into a dream where Ruby and I are uncomplicated.
It’s so simple. We’re at Barton Springs, the only ones there, and there are no concrete banks, just soft grass sloping down to the edge of the deep teal spring-fed pool.
We’re lying near a pecan tree, looking up through its branches to a kaleidoscope of blue sky.
There are no people noises. Only the same sounds we heard when we sat in the Treehouse.
Rustling leaves. Birds. It’s a dream with smell-o-vision, where the scent of peaches tickles my nose as Ruby rolls to her side to feed me a bite of her cinnamon roll, only it’s peach-flavored. Dream logic.
Karma makes sure the dream comes with touch-o-vision as her warm hand drifts down to rest on my chest, and she burrows against my side like she has countless times in real life.
Except in this one, where we are uncomplicated, she stretches her leg over mine, her thigh resting across my knees, her bare toes brushing against the cool grass beside me as she settles down. She breathes a sigh, and I stretch an arm around her, resting my hand in the soft curve of her waist.
She makes a content sound, a soft cross between a moan and a purr, my favorite sound from the first and only time I ever heard her make it . . .
My eyes flicker open to a nearly pitch black room, but the tiny eye of the smoke detector reminds me where I am.
In a hotel room, on a bed where someone has mysteriously kicked away my bolster.
In a hotel room on a bed with an absent boundary, and one very soft, warm Ruby Ramos lying atop me, her leg hitched over mine, her hand grabbing a fistful of the undershirt I wore to bed, giving her some leverage as she works her sleepy way up me.
My hand is helping, pressing into the small of her back and urging her on because my dream brain has convinced it to help her get her mouth closer to mine.
Is she even awake? The sleep-groping was a no-fault situation, but I’m awake now and I have no excuses.
“Ruby?”
“Mmmm?” She nuzzles her face into my neck.
Turns out I will be the one dying in a hotel tonight.
I swallow hard so I can refuse an offer she isn’t consciously making. I move my hand up to give her back a gentle pat. “Ruby.”
“Yes.” Her breathy tone would bring any man to his knees, but I’m already flat on my back with everything I’ve ever wanted cradled in my arms.
I turn my head slightly to brush a kiss against her hair. Her peach-scented hair. I’m not strong enough to disentangle us before taking several moments to lie here with her, letting it be uncomplicated. Maybe I’ll stay like this. She’s safe with me.
My body chooses for me by not moving, Ruby wound around me, her breath a sweet, rhythmic current against my neck.
I slow my breathing to match hers. It makes me intensely glad to be the place where she can rest before she bounds out to tackle the world in the morning. Or at least every class and author showcase and panel she can squeeze in.
“Charlie?”
I don’t know what woke her, how long I’ve been listening to her breathe, but she pushes herself up on her elbow, leaving a cold void in the hollow of my neck.
“Hey.” My voice is soft, letting her adjust to consciousness. There are a couple of quiet seconds while I imagine she’s blinking, trying to see in the darkness.
She shifts, but she doesn’t sit up or scoot back to her side. She slides over me and rests her head against my sternum. Her forefinger taps my chest, a touch so light I might not feel it if I weren’t so attuned to her.
It’s my heartbeat. Her ear is resting over my heart, and she’s tapping out its beat.
That’s what does me in. Her resting there as if she belongs, as if she’s part of my biology, the outward manifestation of my heart.
Without warning, I flip us, caging her in, my forearms braced on either side of her head.
“Charlie,” she whispers, reaching for me.
I take. It would be plunder by a thirsting man if Ruby weren’t so eager to give freely, returning the kisses and taking her own.
There is nothing but the sound of us, no distractions, no obstacles, no—
No.
No more bad decisions. No more regrets. No more getting this wrong.
I push away from her to sit against the headboard. My chest heaves as I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to reorient my senses in the inky dark.
There’s a rustle and the mattress moves as Ruby sits up. “You’re going to take off.” It’s an accusation.
I let it sit there for several seconds before I confirm. “Yeah.”
“Don’t.”
But I’m already climbing out of the bed. I need fresh air that doesn’t smell like peaches.
“You can’t keep running away.”
“I’m not running away. I’m not mad. But I need to think.”
“About my question?”
“About a lot of things. May I be excused, Miss Ramos?”
A sigh. “Yes.”
I change into jeans, and less than a minute later, I close the hotel room door behind me on a very loud silence and escape.