20. Charlie
The sun peeking through the curtains is warm on my skin when I wake up. It has to be nearly noon, but I don’t move a muscle, because Gwen is tucked into my side, breathing steadily. She’s wrapped her body around me, her leg curled over my hip and her fingers twitching on my chest. Copper hair floats around her like a tangled halo.
I never want to leave. I’m content to the point of pain, each of her heartbeats increasing this strange and pleasant pressure in my chest.
The most poignant emotion I can identify is gratefulness. When I’d laid her on our bed, my first instinct was to lock down my desire, to suppress what I wanted and execute the carefully thought out steps I’d performed with every previous partner. She’d noticed the change, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to express how thankful I am that she did. That she pushed me to be honest, that she wants me for who I am.
I watch her sleep for a while longer, feeling relaxed in a way I haven’t in a long time. Eventually she rolls over, stretching her arms above her head and slowly blinking awake. I take my time soaking in her body, the way she forces her back to arch, lifting her breasts. The sheet twists around her waist, and I want to unwrap her again, to witness her naked and moaning in our bed.
Gwen’s surprised expression when she notices me stops that thought process in its tracks. It passes in a moment, her cheeks heating before she pulls the sheet up over her chest.
“Morning,” I say, suppressing the desire to touch her.
“Sorry, I kind of thought all that was a really vivid dream,” she mutters, covering her face with her hands.
My stomach drops a bit, but I try to temper my reaction, reaching over to pull her hand away from her face.
“Are you okay? With what happened?” I ask, running my thumb over her fingers.
I thought I would hate having my emotions be so out of control, but the need to comfort her, to ensure we didn’t cross any sort of line, outweighs any demand for restraint.
She rolls back toward me, giving me an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I’m not doing this super well.” She presses a kiss into my chest that deflates some of the anxiety building there. “Yes, I’m very okay with what happened. Thrilled even. Thank you for trusting me.”
I can’t see her expression, because she’s nestled herself into my side, but I pull her even closer, pressing my lips into the top of her hair.
“Thank you, too,” I whisper.
We lay there for a moment, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.
After some time, I feel her shift underneath me. When I lift my arm, she rolls out of bed, dragging the sheet along with her, wrapping it around her.
“I’m going to go, you know,” she waves at her body, and something in her expression is a little guarded.
“We showered like five times last night,” I joke, leaning over to grab the end of the sheet and tug her back toward the bed.
She smiles, but she can’t quite seem to meet my eyes. Is it really embarrassment, or self consciousness? I told her I would beg for her, and I meant it. She can’t honestly believe I’m not overwhelmingly obsessed with everything about her.
“Still need to brush my teeth. Get ready for the day,” she mutters. “I’ve got to pick up Ana soon.”
There’s a pinprick of doubt popping the bubble of elation in my chest as I observe her. She’s uncomfortable, and not just being naked around me. She shifts her weight from foot to food, fiddling with the hem of the sheet, and my stomach sinks.
“Gwen...” I start, but I don’t know what to say. She said she was thrilled. I need to believe her.
“I just need a few minutes, I promise,” she says, her eyes apologetic and her smile almost a grimace.
If she needs space, I’ll give it to her, even if my natural inclination is to wrap my body around her. I let go of the sheet, and she disappears into the bathroom.
As I listen to the water run, to the sound of Gwen’s soft humming over the shower, I try to temper my anxiety. I scrub my hands down my face, counting my breaths and centering myself. Last night I said I would do anything for Gwen, and I meant it. What she’s given me, the trust, vulnerability, and patience she’s offered, can’t be quantified. There’s no way I can return something that I can barely explain.
So whatever she wants. If she comes back in this room and says this was a mistake, that she wants to go back to partners and friends, I’ll do it, even if it tears me apart. If she wants the world burned down or gilded, I’ll give it to her happily. Anything for Gwen.
She takes her time getting ready, and every second just makes me more certain.
When she finally returns her hair is damp and she’s wrapped in an oversized towel. The sheet is folded and tucked under her arm, which I can’t help but smile at.
“Okay, sorry about that, just needed a minute to collect myself,” she rushes out, nearly tripping over herself as she places the sheet gently at the foot of the bed.
I smile at her, arms crossed over my chest, leaning up against the headboard.
“Nothing to apologize for,” I say, wishing she would come closer, but keeping my hands to myself.
She grips the top of the towel like she’s afraid it’s going to fall.
“That was kind of inevitable, don’t you think?” she blurts out, her words too loud and too anxious.
I tilt my head at her.
“Inevitable?”
“I mean,” she hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek. “It was bound to happen. We spend all our time together. We sleep in the same bed. I mean, you’re going to be my husband.” Flush crawls up her chest and neck from under her towel, and my body reacts instinctually to that word on her tongue.
“Do you want this to happen again?” I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral. She can say no. I need to know that she knows nothing will change if she does.
She’s still blushing as she nods, meeting my gaze intentionally for the first time this morning.
“If you do, yes. We can update the contract if you want. Partners, friends, benefits?” Her voice cracks on the last word, her nose wrinkling at the word.
It’s more than I could have hoped for that first night in my kitchen. More than I probably deserve. My father used to tell me not to ignore the small kindness of fate, and I won’t now.
“I’ll add an addendum, if you want,” I say, leaning forward and taking her hand. “Whatever you need, Gwen.”
She looks almost like she wants to argue, though I don’t know if it’s with me or herself. But after a moment, the expression clears, and she takes my face in her free hand and kisses me. It’s soft, and easy, and the kind of kiss you give someone when you know there will be a next one.
“Looking forward to our expanded partnership,” she whispers through a laugh, and I pull her down on top of me.