Terms of Agreement

66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

Aiden

‘ Y ou listened.’

I’d thought I’d heard music when I’d first come in, but it wasn’t unusual to hear music in Charlotte’s apartment. She’d told me once that she liked the noise and quiet comfort of it—her own personal soundtrack, she’d joked. So, I hadn’t allowed myself to think past that—to hope. But clarity dawned when one song melded into another, and I recognised my playlist—the one I’d made for her.

‘I did.’

I turned back at the sound of her confirmation, watching the smooth column of her throat constrict, her gaze focused on my chest. She hadn’t looked me in the eye since she’d invited me in and, while I understood it, I didn’t like it. The thought of her hiding those vibrant green eyes from me felt like a punishment I couldn’t bear.

‘Good.’ I nodded, talking more to myself than anything, as I took a measured step towards her.

‘Aiden?’ Charlotte asked hesitantly, twisting the packet of biscuits in her hands—the movements so reminiscent of the way I’d seen her twist that ring around her finger that shame burned the back of my throat.

‘Yeah?’ I asked, heart in my mouth.

When she’d first opened the door, it had felt like all of the air had been flattened from my lungs and all of the intelligible words I’d spent hours practicing in the dark had been pushed out of my chest.

Turns out, even though I’d been desperate to see her, part of me hadn’t been sure she’d open the door.

She looked up at me now, her expression entirely unguarded, her apprehension and nervousness clearly painted across her features. I hated seeing her so unsure; seeing the doubt muting the warmth of her eyes and knowing that I put it there.

‘What does it mean?’ she whispered, finally raising her eyes to meet mine. The lyrics turned nostalgic and Maisie’s voice filled with longing as I gazed at the face that had come to mean so much to me.

‘What does it mean?’ I echoed. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and leaned forward to set my mug beside hers on the countertop, watching her reaction. She followed my movements, tracking the path of the mug, but her body remained relatively relaxed—I’d learned over the past few months that the only time Charlotte was ever truly relaxed was when she was sleeping.

Reaching forward, I eased her hold on the biscuits, smiling down at the crumpled edges of the packet.

‘It means that I’m an idiot,’ I said on an exhale, lifting my gaze to hers and maintaining a tentative hold on her hands.

‘It means,’ I continued, relishing the way her fingers had softened in my hold and raising her hands to clasp them in both of mine, ‘that the past ten days have been some of the worst days of my life. And it means,’ I swallowed nervously, ‘that I don’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend anymore.’

Hurt flashed across her face before her features hardened protectively and she removed her hands from my hold.

‘Then why are you here?’

‘Shit.’ That wasn’t what I meant. I rubbed one of my now empty hands across my jaw, looking up at the ceiling in search of the right thing to say. ‘I just—I realised that pretending with you has felt more real than anything I’ve ever known.’

‘Aiden—’ My name was pained as it passed her lips, and I nearly gave up at the sight of her helpless expression. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

‘Charlotte, please?’ I asked softly, letting my hands fall to my sides. ‘Let me get this out and then… and then if you still want nothing to do with me, I’ll leave.’

Charlotte’s eyes searched mine, peering into the depths of my very being, before she nodded for me to continue.

Okay.

I tapped my thigh nervously. Where to start? A memory came to mind, and I couldn’t help but smile.

‘Louise yelled at me, that day after we ran into Bridget.’ She’d been “The-Woman-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named” or “That Bitch”—both courtesy of Louise—for so long, that it felt strange to say her name. Stranger still was the feeling of it passing over my tongue—or rather, the lack of feeling. I’d spent years expecting the acidic burn of her name, that I’d just not said it. ‘Did you know?’

Charlotte shook her head, holding her hands in front of her, her fingers resting threateningly over that ring. That fucking ring. I frowned at her fingers.

‘Well, she did.’ I continued, looking up at her. ‘Said I was stuck. That I’d stopped living. And she was right, in a way,’ I said, the corner of my mouth quirking up. ‘I had stopped living. But I wasn’t stuck—not in the way that she meant.’

‘It was a choice,’ I said, answering the question in her eyes. ‘After the breakup—the pain of it… I didn’t ever want to feel that way again. So, I built up these walls… set up these rules… all to make sure that that I would never feel that way again. “Stuck” is too passive a word to describe what I chose for myself.’

‘I’m sorry she yelled at you,’ Charlotte said softly, staring wistfully at the kitchen door. ‘But I don’t really see what this has to do with me.’

‘It has everything to do with you,’ I replied, and her eyes snapped back to mine. ‘Charlotte, for months you’ve been all I could think about.’ I took a small step closer. ‘Ever since we signed that bloody contract, my every thought is of you… and some of my dreams. Of your smile, your eyes, the way you look when you come with my name on your lips.’

Cursing myself internally, I watched with horror as her face shuttered down, the warm glow behind her eyes dimming. I couldn’t afford to think with my cock right now.

‘But it’s more than that,’ I continued hurriedly. ‘I wonder how your day is going, if you’ve started a new book or heard a new song that made you smile.’ I pushed a hand through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck. ‘I replay the conversations we’ve had and daydream about the ones I want to have.’

‘But—’ she interrupted, confusion creasing her forehead, ‘you’re stuck.’

Reaching forward, I brushed my finger softly over her furrowed brow, chest tightening at the sound of her quick intake of breath. Lowering my hand, I cupped her cheek in my palm, tilting her head back to look at me.

‘I was,’ I admitted. ‘But it wasn’t until last week that I realised just how much I was giving up and missing out on, by choosing to stay in one place.’

A pang of longing spasmed in my chest as I thought, not for the first time, of everything that I’d missed over the past ten days—and not just the events of the past weekend either. But the little things too… the morning coffees, the soft words whispered in the dark, watching her get ready for her day—

‘I don’t want to miss any more,’ I whispered, gazing into her eyes searchingly as my thumb brushed over her cheek.

‘What are you saying?’

I smiled.

In getting to know her, I’d learned that Charlotte wasn’t great at subtext—or at trusting her interpretations of it. And while I often found her confusion endearing, I was more than happy to spell it out for her this time.

‘I’m saying,’ I started, my fingertip brushing lightly over her lip, ‘that I want to date you… for real.’

Charlotte arched back from my touch, eyeing me sceptically. ‘You want to be my boyfriend?’

‘Yes.’ As juvenile as it sounded. ‘Yes, I do.’

Charlotte quirked her head to one side, her gaze giving nothing away as my confession hung in the air. My pulse slowed to a near stop as I waited for her response. Was I too late? What if she said no? What if she didn’t—

Charlotte rose to her toes and pressed a soft, shy kiss to my lips, and my heart soared.

‘Charlotte,’ I whispered, dropping my forehead to hers as my fingers slipped into her hair to cup her head. ‘I know that I’m not the best man—’ she opened her mouth to interrupt, her breath fanning across my lips, ‘but I promise to work every day to be a better man. To love you in the way that you deserve.’

‘Love?’ her voice caught on the word, and a tentative hope coloured her features as she looked up at me.

‘Love,’ I confirmed. ‘Despite my best efforts and flawed intentions. I love you, Charlotte Hall.’

Her smile was radiant and when she lifted her lips to mine, I could feel the shape of it embedded in my soul.

My arms moved around her waist, and I lifted her, holding her body to mine as I deepened the kiss. It was meant to be soft and sweet, our first kiss as a real couple. But Charlotte and I seemed physically incapable of doing anything in the right order. And when her breath hitched, and her legs wrapped around my waist, I couldn’t hold back the groan that emanated from deep within my chest.

Pulse racing, I moved to the living room and lowered us onto the sofa, Charlotte straddling my hips. Fingers in her hair, I tightened my grip and tipped her head back to pepper soft kisses across her cheeks, nose, and eyes before returning to her lips.

‘Fuck, Cupcake,’ I groaned against her lips. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Slipping my tongue into her mouth, I tasted her, squeezing my eyes shut at the sweet, rich flavour that I’d almost lost forever.

Charlotte moaned into my mouth, her hips grinding over the prominent bulge in my trousers. In an instant, I had her on her back on the sofa, my body above hers as I planted a trail of kisses down her neck, sucking softly at the sensitive spot below her ear.

‘I need you,’ Charlotte whimpered, her back arching towards me.

‘Cupcake, you have me,’ I promised, my hands trailing over her hips and up her sides as I softly sucked at the skin of her collarbone. ‘You’ve always had me.’

‘No,’ she groaned, shaking her head, ‘inside.’

Fuck. My cock pulsed in my trousers.

‘Charlotte,’ I groaned, pressing my head into the crook of her neck and breathing heavily.

‘Please,’ Charlotte panted, opening her legs beneath me, moaning as I ground down against her hips. ‘Don’t make me beg.’

Letting out a low, breathless chuckle, I returned to her lips, our kisses growing sloppy. Curling her fingers around the hem of my jumper, Charlotte yanked it up as my own fingers fumbled with the buttons on her trousers.

When we were both finally naked, I lined up the head of my cock to her entrance, and, lifting my head, I found and held her gaze as I pressed into her wet heat.

Charlotte groaned, arching her chest towards me as I buried myself in her, my fingers digging into her hips as she stretched around me. She was always so fucking tight.

‘Fuck,’ I hissed against her skin, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back inside her, pressing lazy kisses to her chest, ‘you feel like you were made for me.’

‘Yes,’ Charlotte moaned from beneath me.

My lips halted in their path across her chest, and I leaned back to look at her.

‘Aiden please,’ she begged, grinding up against me, her eyes mirroring my own hunger and desperation. Something in me snapped. Pulling her legs from around my waist and draping them over my shoulders, I dragged my cock out of her tight heat, leaving only the tip inside. With my fingers around her ankles, I lifted her hips, tilting her body and slammed back into her, seating myself with one thrust. Charlotte whimpered beneath me, her beautiful pussy pulsing around my cock as I lowered my lips to hers. Her fingers tore into my hair and our teeth gnashed as we poured every ounce of feeling into that kiss.

The walls of her tight channel fluttered around my cock and heat licked at my spine. Pulling away from the kiss, I increased the intensity of my thrusts, my fingers moving down her legs to circle her clit.

‘Aiden,’ she cried, ‘I’m going to—’

But she didn’t even get a chance to finish. Thrusting her head back and arching her body towards me, she unravelled.

‘Fuck,’ I rasped, my thrusts growing more erratic as she clenched around my cock. The sparks along my spine ignited, and an inferno blazed through my core as I found my release, pumping into her as my body convulsed against hers.

Wrapping my arms around her, I cautiously rolled over, repositioning us so that Charlotte’s body was draped across mine, her head resting on my chest. I blew out a tired breath, my heart still thundering beneath her cheek.

‘Aiden,’ she whispered after a while, raising her head to look at me.

‘Mmm?’ I didn’t even try to hide my contented smile as I looked at her.

‘I love you too.’