Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Finn
Charlie’s legs bracket mine as she straddles me on my couch. Her delicate fingers are frantically pulling at the buttons on my shirt, fumbling her way down to get them undone. My hands trail up under her shirt, gripping her waist in a possessive hold as I press her down onto my aching cock. I can feel the heat from her pussy as she grinds down against me, letting out the sexiest moan as she desperately chases her pleasure. Her nails scrape down my bare chest, eliciting a deep, satisfied groan from me. My body feels like it’s on fire and it can only be quenched by the woman on top of me.
Hazy with lust, I grab her hair at the nape of her neck, dragging her down to my lips for a desperate, passionate kiss. With wandering lips, I plant soft kisses on her smooth skin from her jaw to her collarbone. My lips find their way to that heavenly spot between her full breasts, gently nibbling, then sucking on the delicate flesh. Her breathless pants are only driving me crazier. It’s taking every ounce of restraint not to strip her bare and finally sink into her. Kissing my way back up to her lips, I continue guiding her hips back and forth against my throbbing cock, hoping it’ll provide some relief for both of us.
Our foreheads are pressed against one another as she pants, “Don’t stop. Please.”
“You feel incredible, Charlie.” I crush my lips against hers like a man starved. The demanding kiss is sloppy and frantic—a tangled mess of tongues and teeth. Before I can flip her over onto her back, she starts kissing up my jaw.
Which then turns into her . . . licking the side of my face?
Then something cold and wet digs into my ear.
What the . . . ?
Jolting up in bed, I dazedly look over at Frank's guilty face. Blinking a few times, I make a weak attempt to shake off my drowsiness, still enamored with my lust-filled dream. When I turn to grab my glasses, I realize that my head is pounding, I can’t breathe out of my nose, and my throat is killing me. To top it all off, my dick is so hard that it’s physically painful.
Fantastic combination.
As the confusion lifts, it becomes clear that I must’ve caught the cold going around town. Which led to the hottest fever dream of my life.
No pun intended.
I turn over in bed, my shirt damp with sweat and sticking to me uncomfortably as I grab my phone. I feel like absolute shit. There’s no way I can work today. I’m a walking, talking Petri dish. My fingers type out a quick text to the barista that is working today, asking him to put up a sign that says we’ll be closed. While I’m still semi-aware of what’s happening, I make a reminder on my phone to hire more staff. I didn’t foresee that Dark Side Brews would be as successful as it has turned out to be. Mentally kicking myself, I should’ve prepared for this situation and hired a few more people. In my defense, I thought I had an iron-clad immune system. Sadly, judging by the war raging in my head and the fire trickling down my throat, I was wrong.
Once I get a reply from my barista telling me the sign is up and everything has been taken care of, I promptly go back to sleep, hoping to pick up where my dream with Charlie left off.
A loud banging on my front door wakes me up from a deep sleep.
What time is it? What day is it? What year am I in?
Groggily, I roll out of bed and barely stop myself from falling head first to the floor. The banging on my door isn’t making my headache any better, and I’m about three seconds from losing my cool on whoever is busting down my door.
When I descend the stairs, a chill runs through me despite my fever. With my vision blurring and head pounding, I grab the handrail because I feel dizzy. Before I open the door, I pause and rub my eyes.
Fuck. I forgot my glasses.
More obnoxious, head-shattering noises come from the opposite side of my door. Whoever is on the other side needs to calm down. You’d think a stampede of elephants is trying to break it down. Taking a deep breath, I whip open the door and croak out, “What the actual fuck is wrong?—”
“Wow. You look like absolute shit,” a feminine voice says.
Looking down and squinting my eyes at the short figure, I vaguely guess who it could be. But I also just had a sex fever dream about said person. At this point, I don’t trust my brain anymore. It’s too much of an unreliable narrator for my liking.
“Let me in,” her voice commands, sharp and insistent.
Without waiting for permission, she ducks under my arm that’s holding the door open, and strolls breezily into my house like she owns the place.
Frank’s nails click on the wooden floor, and her voice is bright when he barks for her attention. “Hey, bud! Here, let’s get you outside, and then I’ll feed you.”
Groaning, I make my way towards the kitchen and slump onto the chair at my kitchen island. Without my glasses, everything looks like misshapen blobs of color.
Charlie’s ruffling through the large paper bags she brought with her, putting away what I assume are groceries as if I’m not even here. “Where are your glasses?”
“Why are you here?” I groan, my throat feeling like I lit it on fire.
“How about, ‘ Thanks, Charlie, for taking care of me after I contracted the Hemlock plague!’ ” She mocks, still putting groceries away. “No problem, Finn. Super happy to help,” she replies to her own statement.
Maybe it’s the cold or my relentless crush on her, but Charlie’s cute when she’s snarky.
Charlie opens my pantry door, looking for Frank’s kibble. Grabbing a cup of his food, she drops it in his dish.
“Especially since the whole fucking town won’t shut up about your coffee shop being closed for the day, and I need a reprieve from all the chatter and complaining,” she mumbles the last part quietly to herself.
Leaning my elbow on the counter, I rest my forehead on my palm. “I feel like shit.”
“Well, you look like shit. Did you take anything? I brought some Tylenol to bring your fever down, if you have one.” She shakes the bottle, the sound of the pills rattling around causing me to wince.
Oh, I have a fever alright. Pushing the thought of Charlie straddling me out of my congested brain, I try to think about anything and everything except my dream. The thin material of my pajama pants leaves little to the imagination, so I need to really focus on anything else.
“No. I didn’t take anything. Not yet, at least. I texted my barista to close the café for the day and then fell asleep.” I swallow, my mouth dryer than a desert.
She sighs and, I assume, rolls her eyes, grumbling, “ Men. ”
Charlie walks closer to me and places her cool palm on my forehead. I close my eyes, leaning into her touch because it feels like heaven against my flushed skin.
“Jesus, Finn. You’re burning up.” She sighs. “Alright, here’s the plan for the day: take some Tylenol and then get in a cool shower because your clothes are damp and you smell gross. I’ll quickly change your sheets and will throw the contaminated ones in the wash.” Her nose wrinkles at that in such an adorable way that my brain momentarily buffers. “After that, get your ass back in bed and don’t move. Sound good?”
All I can do is nod. Mainly because I’m so overwhelmed by everything that’s happening right now that my brain isn’t processing as fast as I would like it to. Charlie places two Tylenol in my palm and hands me a glass of orange juice to wash it down. I hear the sliding door to the backyard glide open and Frank trots inside towards his food bowl.
“Thank you,” I say after taking the medicine. “I’m going upstairs now to shower. Yell if you need anything.”
She whips her head around to me. “I don’t need a thing. If you need anything, just give me a call. My ringer is on. For the love of all that is holy, please don’t yell.”
Before I leave, I look in her direction. “Thanks again for stopping by with everything. I can lock the door on the way out if you want me to walk you to the door.”
Her exasperated sigh fills the room. “I’m not leaving you alone, you big germ. Go shower, get back in bed, and when you wake up, I’ll be here with mediocre soup and saltines ready for you.”
I’ll be here.
Warmth spreads throughout my whole body, wrapping around me in a comforting embrace at her words. Even though my head feels like it’s underwater, I know for a fact it isn’t the fever making me feel this way.
When my eyes peel open, the room is pitch black, and moonlight casting a few streaks of silver light on the walls. As I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, I can’t help but think about the wildest dream I had. Charlie was here, in my home, putting away groceries and caring for Frank like he was her own. Turning on my side to grab my phone off the nightstand, I see a glass of water, two Tylenol, and a threatening note that says, ‘ Dearest Finn, don’t be a man-child. Take these, or else,’ stuck to the glass.
Definitely not a dream. With my heart hammering in my chest, a few worrying thoughts cross my mind. Did I put the toilet seat down? Did I leave the house a mess? Is my underwear out for the world to see? I’m positive a few pairs of dirty socks are lying around, since Frank is obsessed with stealing those. I pride myself on keeping a clean and tidy home, but sometimes life gets in the way, and things fall by the wayside.
I fumble for my glasses on the nightstand and slide them onto my face. After rolling out of bed, I swallow the medicine that was left for me and make my way downstairs. Glancing at my phone, I realize I’ve slept all day long, and it’s already well into the evening. The stairs creak as I slowly descend; a low noise comes from the television, and the lights are dimmed low. When I peer over at the couch, my knees go weak at the endearing sight before me.
Charlie is curled up on her side with a blanket tucked under her chin, and Frank is nestled between her and the couch with his head propped up on her hip. They’re both sound asleep, looking perfect and peaceful. Frank is in such a deep sleep that his fluffy nub of a tail is wagging intermittently.
It’s starting to get late and, as much as I don’t want to wake Charlie up, I know she has a store to run and a dog to care for. Carefully, I brush her hair back off her face and trace a knuckle along her cheek, hoping that’s enough to wake her up.
The last thing I want to do is scare her because, if I do, there’s a 90 percent chance she’ll punch me in the balls.
Her eyes flutter open, inhaling a deep breath after her restful nap. “Wow. Sorry about that.” She laughs. “I didn’t mean to pass out on your couch.” Rubbing her eyes, she yawns and reaches down to give Frank’s head a loving scratch.
I smile down at her. She looks so good on my couch, wrapped in my blanket, with my dog. It just looks so . . . right.
“Don’t worry about it. You can sleep here longer if you’d like, but I know you have to get home to Vera.”
As her tired eyes look up at me, her features soften with relaxation. She looks rested and happy. A part of me feels like she needed a bit of rest, and I’m elated that she chose my couch to sleep on.
“Yeah, you’re right. Marnie was able to take care of Vera for a few hours and then, I assume, dropped her off at my place.” She groggily gets off the couch and runs a hand through her long hair. With a quick glance toward the kitchen and then back at me, she mentions, “There’s mediocre soup on the stove—enough for a few days. Make sure you eat it. And keep up with the medicine, got it?” She points a joking finger at me, a small smile curving on her lips.
I give her a quick salute. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
That gets a big smile from her as she walks to the foyer to grab her coat. Spinning towards me, she adds, “Oh, one more thing. Frank has been fed, walked, and let out. He should be good for the night and shouldn’t bug you too much. Just focus on getting better . . . the town will riot if you aren’t back soon.” Charlie flashes me an earnest smile before opening the door to leave.
I know I shouldn’t ask and ruin the moment, but before she leaves, the words fall out of me before I can stop them. “Why? Why did you do all of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’m so thankful because I was a shell of a human a hours ago and couldn’t tell you my name. But you didn’t have to interrupt your day for me.”
Spinning quickly on her heel, she looks up at me, tilting her head. A look of bewilderment clouds her features before they soften again. “Because I show up for the people I care about, Finn. That’s how I was raised, and that’s how I live my life. Regardless of how big or small someone’s troubles are, I’ll always show up and help make their lives a fraction easier.” She pauses, then flashes me a mischievous smirk. “Even if it means I’ll get sick within the next twenty-four to seventy-two hours.”
I stand motionless in front of her, processing everything she just said. The woman with captivating eyes and a heart too big for her own good has rendered me speechless. If I wasn’t a human germ, I’d kiss her right here, right now.
For the first time in a long, long time, I feel a deep sense of home, comfort, and belonging. I’ve found solace in the woman standing before me. Of all the places I’ve lived, no one has ever cared for me like this. The way she barged in here with determination, not worrying about feeling intrusive or getting sick, makes my chest swell with happiness.
Charlie breaks me out of my trance as she wishes me goodnight and reminds me to get some rest. Standing in the foyer, I'm lost in thought, reflecting on everything that happened today as the low hum of her car’s engine fills the silence.
It could be the fever, but I can’t ignore that feeling of warmth permeating through my entire body once again.
After all these years, I’m starting to believe that this is where I’m finally meant to be.