16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Aiden
W e sat in silence as we left London, weaving our way through the city that was only just waking up. It was quiet, comfortably so. I couldn’t see much of Charlotte in my periphery, but I could hear shifting in the seat beside me, and, on the next turn, I swivelled my head to get a better look at her. She was chewing on her lower lip and her hands were clasped loosely in her lap, her fingers twisting that ring again.
As if sensing my gaze, her eyes flitted in my direction and I turned back to face the road. I remained silent, choosing not to speak. I thought about it. I even opened my mouth a couple of times, but each time, logic won out. There was no denying the physical attraction I felt for Charlotte—had felt for Charlotte ever since she’d shown up at my door, cupcake in hand. For two years I’d shut it down, packed it away… and that was largely due to our combined efforts of avoiding one another. But now, thanks to my fucking sister… now I knew the scent of her perfume. I knew the sound of her pleasure. I knew the warmth of her smile. And the more I learned about my upstairs neighbour, the more I wanted to know. But I wasn’t in the market for more. I had to shut it down. There was sense in self-preservation, and the less I knew about Charlotte Hall, the better.
I snuck another look at her, only to find that she had shifted in her seat, turning away from me and staring out the window. The buttons on that navy blue coat of hers went all the way up to the base of her neck. But I’d damn near choked earlier, when I’d looked up to see her stepping out of the elevator like a goddamn dream. She was like something out of a fairytale, with her soft curls cascading down her back and that satin fabric draped across her tall frame. In that dress she was all arms, legs and soft milky skin and I couldn’t help but wonder what the cool, satin fabric might feel like under my hands. I pushed the image from my mind. My suit was well fitted and would do nothing to hide a boner.
‘I didn’t take you for a Nissan driver,’ Charlotte said as we passed into Hammersmith. I turned my head to find her attention still focused on the view outside.
‘What did you picture me driving?’ I asked, convincing myself that it was one thing to opt not to start a conversation with her, but something entirely different to refuse to engage in one already started. She was my girlfriend, after all. My grip tightened on the wheel. Fake girlfriend.
‘Oh, you know,’ Charlotte said, shifting in her seat, the heat of her gaze warming the side of my face. ‘The Batmobile.’
‘The Batmobile?’ I echoed incredulously, eyes darting to where she sat, a small smile playing on her lips.
Charlotte nodded, looking forward. ‘You definitely give off that broody, sexy, tech billionaire vibe. So the Batmobile makes sense.’ She thought I was sexy.
‘Not quite the billionaire, but thanks,’ I said, enjoying the way her eyes flitted to follow the movement of my hand as I shifted gears before I refocused on the road ahead.
‘Oh,’ Charlotte said solemnly, ‘that must be why they downgraded you to the Qashqai.’
My head tipped back as a laugh rumbled its way up my throat, escaping before I had the chance to force it back down. The sound rolled across the car, and when I turned to look at her, I found Charlotte watching me, a wry smile twisting the corners of her mouth and her eyes dancing with amusement.
Charlotte’s gentle ribbing and my responding amusement cut through the tension that had filled the space between us. I watched as she relaxed into her seat, her ring left untouched, and turned her body towards me, firing off question after question.
Eventually, we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we left London, the buildings growing shorter and further apart until we were through Morden and the green fields of Surrey.
I’d always been mesmerised by the different shades of green that ate up the landscape. In fact, part of the reason I’d bought a car in the first place had been to indulge in the view from the windscreen when I travelled home.
‘City or countryside?’ I asked. My first question of the trip.
‘Hmmm,’ Charlotte mused, her eyes fixed on the fields rolling by. ‘I’m not sure, to be honest.’ I stayed silent in the hopes that she’d continue. ‘I grew up in Oxford, but I moved to London for a reason. Oxford felt too… known. If that makes sense?’ She cast a glance in my direction before looking back at the road.
‘I love London, the bustle of it and how everyone is so different and busy and… alive. But I guess that whenever I travel home or outside of London, I realise how much I miss the quiet of smaller towns… How much I miss the green.’ She gestured to the passenger window, grinning as we passed a lone cow.
The voice of the GPS navigation cut through the silence to announce that we weren’t far from our destination. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice over the quiet comfort of the car. Charlotte’s posture changed almost immediately, her milky skin turning ashen as her lips moved, muttering something in a voice too low for me to hear.
I watched as her fingers fumbled around her ring and something tightened in my chest at the sight of her obvious distress. I was just about to pull over when she spoke.
‘Do you mind?’ Charlotte asked, her voice quiet and tight. She gestured towards the sound system. I frowned, my eyes travelling from her trembling fingers to her face. I didn’t know what was happening, but I nodded, keeping my eyes fixed on her.
‘Any preferences?’ she asked, practically sagging with relief.
I shook my head. ‘No, I don’t really bother with music much. Whatever you like is fine.’
‘Excuse me?’ Charlotte balked, swivelling in her seat, her earlier crisis forgotten.
‘What?’
‘You don’t “bother” with music?’ Charlotte inclined her head towards me in disbelief. ‘What do—How is that—?’ Charlotte stuttered, evidently dumbfounded.
I shrugged, forcing my face to relax into a bored expression even though I didn’t love the way she sat there, looking at me as if I’d just said I ate paste.
‘But it’s everywhere ,’ Charlotte continued slowly, dragging out the end final word for emphasis. I said nothing. What was there to say, anyway? It wasn’t that I disliked music, I just never actively sought it out. I could remember all the times Louise came to me growing up, a CD clutched in her hands and tears brimming in her eyes as she waxed-lyrical about some or other artist who just “got her.” But music had never made me feel that way, and as I grew up, I stopped looking for myself in song lyrics.
‘I mean… okay, maybe not music music,’ Charlotte continued, getting more animated as she went on. ‘But noise… it’s everywhere, people talking, singing—sometimes screaming when it comes to London—and then there’s all of the stuff people consume in terms of social media or movies or even traditional music. Do you never hear a song in an ad or as the backtrack on a video on some social media platform and go listen to it on its own?’
‘I don’t have social media,’ I answered blandly.
‘Are you a murderer?’
The question caught me so off-guard that I coughed, choking on air. Smacking the heel of my hand to my chest, I turned to look at her, eyes wide and watery. ‘What?’
‘What do you mean “what”?’ she asked. ‘Who doesn’t have social media?’ She sounded like Louise—actually, if I were completely honest, she sounded like most of my friends. ‘Was this all just some elaborate ruse to lure me out and murder me?’
‘And you think I dress up like this for all my victims?’ I laughed, gesturing to the suit.
‘Victims? Plural? Is that a confession?’ Charlotte asked, her tone teasing. But I didn’t miss the way her gaze had travelled down my body at the mention of my suit, nor the way her cheeks had pinked when I caught her looking.
***
It wasn’t long before we were pulling into the drive of a massive manor house. Some time in the past year, Ed had mentioned that they were getting married in somewhere that looked like it was the sister-house of Downton Abbey. Leaning forward in my seat, I let out a low whistle. He wasn’t wrong.
Judging by the gasp from the passenger seat, I wasn’t the only one in awe of the manor and its sprawling grounds. ‘Toto,’ she whispered, ‘I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.’ I couldn’t tell if she was talking to me or to herself. But if she was talking to me… did that make me the dog?
Shaking my head, I spun the wheel, turning into the venue’s gravel parking lot. It wasn’t difficult to spot the cars belonging to the rest of the wedding party. They were all congregated around Ed’s Volvo, which had been decorated with various streamers and balloons. My stomach clenched uneasily as I took in the “Just Married” poster plastered to the rear window.
I drove past my friends’ cars, pulling into a bay in the far corner of the lot. So much had changed since Ed and Tilly had got engaged two years ago. I knew everyone had expected that I’d be the first of our group to tie the knot. Hell, even I’d expected it. And now, sat in the car outside of this venue, I couldn’t help but wonder—if it had been me—would I have picked a place like this? Someone in old-fashioned livery hurried across the lawn and towards the house, the movement and the clothes enough to bring me back to the present.
I snuck a glance over at Charlotte. ‘Ready?’ I croaked.
Her eyes flitted down to where I’d just rubbed my clammy palms over my trousers before they returned to my face. She gave a soft smile and a sharp nod, straightening in her seat as if she were preparing for battle. I’d just turned to step out of the car when I felt small fingers brush against my spine.
‘Wait!’
I turned back, an eyebrow raised in question.
‘You don’t want to go over anything?’
I shook my head, pushing the door open and planting a foot onto the gravel.
‘What about touching?’
‘What?’
‘You know…’ Charlotte glanced around and dropped her voice to a whisper, ‘PDA.’
My eyebrows rose.
‘Most couples do it,’ she stated matter-of-factly. The only giveaway to her discomfort was the dusty pink flush that had bloomed across her cheeks.
‘It wasn’t in the contract,’ I pointed out, secretly hoping that she’d be too much of a stickler for the rules to go against the contract. At no point had anyone mentioned PDA. Fuck.
‘Do you want to sell this or not?’
I nodded. I was a grown man; I could handle a little PDA. My eyes darted to that pretty pout of hers and my confidence wobbled as my blood simmered. Fuck. Could I?
‘I can add it as a clause,’ she muttered, unaware of my dilemma. Reaching into the shallow depths of her clutch, I watched as she withdrew a recognisable piece of paper.
What was she thinking bringing that here? What if she lost it?
My eyes narrowed and my jaw tightened as she leaned over, pressing on the dashboard as she amended the contract.
‘Initial there,’ she pointed to a spot at the bottom of the page and I added mine below hers.
‘Don’t lose that,’ I grumbled at her and pulled myself out of the car. Shutting the door behind me, I stomped over to her side of the car, trying to spot a loophole in the newest addition to our contract. The clause had said that we’d only have to engage in PDA if the situation called for it. I’d just have to make sure that we didn’t end up in that kind of situation. Easy. Rolling my shoulders and inhaling a lungful of the country-crisp air, I opened her door.
‘Oh, you didn’t have to…’ Charlotte began, trailing off when she saw the look on my face and instead opting for a simple, ‘Thank you.’ She slid out of the car as gracefully as the pebbled walkway would allow and, after I shut the door behind her, she took my proffered arm. A hum of electricity shot up my arm as her fingers clasped my bicep and, from her sharp intake of breath, I’d guess she felt it too.
‘We should have nicknames for each other,’ Charlotte blurted out, pulling me from my thoughts on countryside static as we made our way towards the manor.
‘Nicknames?’ I slowed to a stop, turning to look at her.
‘You know… a term of endearment.’
‘I know what a nickname is.’
‘Well.’ Charlotte scuffed the gravel, the toe of her strappy shoes peeking out from beneath the purple fabric of her dress. ‘Good.’
‘Where is all of this coming from?’ I asked, crooking a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to mine. Big mistake. Her green eyes widened to fathomless pools that I’d have happily lost myself in. I looked away.
‘Where’s what coming from?’
‘This!’ I pointed a finger at her bag. ‘First PDA, now nicknames… you didn’t mention any of this before.’
‘Becky,’ she said with a shrug, as if that was supposed to explain everything. ‘If I’m supposed to be your girlfriend,’ she continued without further explanation, ‘then I should have a nickname.’
I groaned, my head tipping back. Who the fuck was this Becky, and why was she making my life so difficult?
‘So like “babe?”’ I asked, speaking to the skies.
‘Like the pig? Ew, no!’ I dropped my head just in time to catch her shudder. ‘No,’ she reiterated, shaking her head. ‘Something sweet like…’ she said wistfully, those beautiful green eyes taking on a faraway look. ‘Something like Honey or Sunshine or Daisy.’
Sunshine? I scoffed, shaking my head. Daisy? It was all so… so cutesy. And personal. Nope. No way. Not happening. I needed to keep the line between us clear and preferably several feet away from me at all times.
‘You know,’ she continued, smiling shyly up at me, ‘something sweet.’
Well, shit.