Chapter 26 Charlie
CHARLIE
Greg texted me that he thinks we should see other people this year, since it’s our first year of college.
I hate when he does this. I called Rosie crying, and we blew off our classes to spend the afternoon at her house, watching rom-coms and eating cookies-and-cream ice cream straight from the carton.
Bennett watched one of the movies with us after he came home from an excursion, but he ended up falling asleep halfway through.
I probably watched him more than I watched the movie.
At one point, Rosie threw a handful of popcorn at my head, and I realized she caught me staring at her brother.
I apologized, super embarrassed. She just smiled in that “we’re about to steal a backhoe” kind of way that makes me nervous.
But then she suggested another movie and asked Bennett to order us pizza, so I’m probably being paranoid.
Bennett fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes.
One second, he was awake, getting us zipped in tight, and the next, he was breathing steadily.
His nerve endings were clearly not zinging and pinging and generally ringing endlessly at the remembrance of his knuckles brushing against me while he cut my hair.
Don’t move an inch, Charlie. I even breathed shallowly, worried that any squirming on my part would bother him and wake him up.
I longed to scoot closer and bury myself in his side. Not only for warmth, but for the closeness I craved. I wanted to hook my leg over his and slide my hand under his shirt to rest against his solid chest and press my lips to his neck.
And therein lay the problem. Because it turned out, I did do that. Once I fell asleep.
I suctioned to his side like an overly curious octopus, all eight limbs holding him in the death grip of my neediness.
I’d woken up three mornings in that position, and it took every ninja skill I possessed to ease myself away without waking him up.
But what if it had happened other mornings, and I wasn’t aware of it?
What if he was the one easing away from me when I didn’t wake up first? Bennett might be up for a good cuddle now and then, but what I was doing was antagonist territory. I’ve got you in my clutches; I will suffocate you with my need.
Spiraling anxiety did a good job of keeping me awake, at least.
That, and the cold turning my nose into a dripping ice cube.
I lay on my side, a rock digging into my arm, but I didn’t dare move.
Something shuffled outside, and I listened, imagining a bear or a wolverine.
There were supposed to be several predators in this area, and we’d spotted some signs that they’d been coming around at night.
Fear bought me a few more minutes of being awake.
Hours passed, and every muscle ached as I fought sleep.
I would not fall asleep.
I cannot fall…
Iwoke up to darkness.
Bennett’s taut stomach moved in a steady rhythm beneath my palm, and my head rested in the cove of his shoulder and neck. The tender skin below his ear grazed my lips every time he inhaled, and when he exhaled, my body pressed even more flush with his.
His arm was locked securely around my waist with his hand resting on my hip. Bennett’s embrace felt safe and comfortable, just like his townhouse did. Which made sense, since it wasn’t the place creating the feeling; it was the person living there who did.
He was still in a deep sleep, so I closed my eyes. I could allow another minute of sleepy contentment.
The songbirds had already begun their morning chirps in the distance.
The steady lap of the lake onto the shore and the rustle of the leaves in the trees surrounding us added to the promise of a beautiful day.
Bennett and I could sit for hours in the quiet and let the sounds of nature be a soundtrack to our experience.
Would Greg have been able to appreciate it too?
No. He might have been able to tolerate it—his competitive nature would have demanded it—but he wouldn’t have found simple joy in just existing.
Bennett sighed in his sleep and shifted so that his chin rested on the top of my head. He pulled me deeper into the cocoon of his embrace.
I settled into him for one more breath, then a second. But it was time to extricate myself.
I lifted my leg from his first and then my arm, but when I went to swiftly roll away in the same move I’d been doing all week, his hold on me tightened.
“Hey, where are you going?” he said, his voice thick with sleep.
I was glad for the darkness that kept my flushed-with-mortification skin from his sight. “Giving you room,” I whispered back.
“Get back over here.” He tugged me by the hip until my leg was wrapped over his, my inner thigh pressed to his relaxed quad, and my hand dangling down by his ribs. He gave a contented sigh, and his breathing turned to the deep and steady cadence of someone who was fast asleep.
My heart beat all the way through my ears, making it hard to hear any of those peaceful noises I’d been appreciating earlier. Instead, all my senses were attuned to Bennett’s hand resting on the back of my leg as if holding it in place.
What consumed me, though, was the undeniable sense of belonging I felt while wrapped up in Bennett. He probably hasn’t been fully awake when he’d pulled me close, and he’d likely not remember this in the morning.
But I’d never forget.