Chapter 6
CHARLIE
For two people who’ve supposedly taken sex off the table, the tension between us is getting thicker by the second. Maybe that’s why?
All I know is I can’t seem to look away from Pete’s mouth, and the urge to kiss him gets stronger the more I stare.
But I’m only here for two weeks and I have work to do.
That was the whole point of coming here.
I don’t have time to get involved with someone when it can never go anywhere.
And experience has taught me that I can’t do casual.
I’m convinced that’s how I ended up with Dan.
We were never supposed to be a long-term thing, but then I went and got attached and he went along for the ride.
Now that I’ve had some distance from him, it’s easier to see how we were never right for each other.
Doesn’t excuse the things he said to me or the way he pissed off and left me that night, but it does put a few things in perspective.
And one of them is that I don’t think I can have sex and not catch feelings.
I already feel a pull with Pete.
I reckon I felt it on New Year’s Eve too, even though we weren’t together long. He exudes this warm, kind, confident aura that I find really fucking appealing. It matches his broad shoulders, and I can easily imagine how it would feel to be wrapped up in a hug by him.
Which is why I can’t start anything with Pete.
But we can be friends, right?
Can’t have enough of them.
“Last orders,” Hailey calls out to the remaining people in the bar.
“Shit. I didn’t realise it was so late.” I mean, it’s only ten thirty, but I wanted to get at least one more chapter down tonight. I glance back at Pete and bite my lip. Despite all my reasons not to, I want to stay with him. I’m not ready to let him go and not see him again.
I like him.
I like talking to him, even if we did get off to a rocky start.
“Do you need to get back to your room?”
“Yeah. Sorry, but I’ve got some work I really want to get done tonight.”
He drains the last of his hot chocolate. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I understand.”
Judging by the way he’s avoiding my gaze, I’m not sure he does though. I reach for his hand, fingers curling around his wrist. “I had a good time tonight.”
He huffs. “Apart from when you thought I was laughing at the fact you write books.”
I smile at him. “Yeah. Apart from that.”
“I wasn’t, you know.”
He looks so earnest. Nothing like the sneer Dan used to have whenever I talked about my writing. “I believe you.”
“Good.” He glances down at where I still have hold of his wrist, and I quickly let go. “I know you have to go, but I’d like to see you again.”
I should say no, but I know before the words even come out that I’m not going to. “I’d like that.”
“You can tell me about your books, if you want?”
Surprisingly, I do. I think? I let myself imagine telling him all about the stories I write, and it stirs excitement instead of dread. Huh. “Maybe.”
“I could come back to the pub, or . . . ?”
Without giving myself time to second-guess anything, I pull my phone from my pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. “Put your number in there and we can sort something out. I’m probably going to want a change of scenery after a few days locked in my room writing.”
His smile is huge as he inputs his number, and I try not to read too much into it.
Friends.
That’s what we both said. Well, no sex is what we said, but that’s the same thing in my book.
He gives me back my phone and I call his number straightaway. “There, now you have mine too.”
“Thanks.”
We both stand, and I’m not sure what to do now.
I don’t know him well enough to go for a hug, and a kiss is off limits.
Pete chuckles. “Well, this got awkward quickly.”
I laugh, relieved. “Right?” I gesture between us. “I’d usually go for a hug, but—”
“You can hug me.” He slides his chair back, moves around the table towards me and holds his arms out in invitation. “If you want to?”
Ooh, this is going to be such a bad idea.
I step forward and slowly slide my arms around his back. Jesus, he’s so solid and warm. Gentle arms wrap around me and draw me into a chest that’s as solid as his back.
He’s taller than me, enough so that my nose brushes the side of his jaw. I inhale and almost groan at how good he smells. All fresh and woodsy.
Closing my eyes, I relax against him and savour every second of the best hug I’ve had in months. Sorry, Seb.
I’ve missed this.
Missed how such a simple thing can make you feel so fucking good.
It takes effort not to cling on when he eventually lets go.
Pete clears his throat, and when I look up, his cheeks are wonderfully flushed. Maybe he enjoyed that as much as I did.
Definitely a bad idea. The worst. I already know I’m going to want more of that.
“So . . .” He grabs his coat off the back of the chair, then lifts his phone. “I’ll message you, I guess?”
He looks unsure, even after I was the one to ask for his number.
“You better.” That draws another smile. But as much as I don’t want to, I need to get back upstairs.
And at this rate, if one of us doesn’t leave, then Hailey’ll end up having to kick us out.
So I force myself to take a step back, out of touching distance.
“I should . . .” I hook a thumb over my shoulder, hopefully in the direction of the stairs.
“Oh, right. Me too.” He shrugs into his coat. “Night, Charlie.”
“Night, Pete. See you soon.”
“Yeah.” His smile this time is small and soft but hits me harder than any of the others tonight. “See you soon.”
I turn and leave before I do something stupid like invite him upstairs with me.
Would that be such a bad thing?
I can almost hear Seb saying it. And honestly? I don’t know. Maybe it’d be okay?
My feet are heavy on the steps as I trudge upstairs, and it takes actual effort not to turn around and see if I can still catch him.
And there’s my answer. I can’t go there with Pete.
I like him.
Even after a night full of awkward moments and misunderstandings, I like him. There’s something about Pete that makes me feel like I’d be in safe hands, and that’s always been my kryptonite. Adding sex to that would be a disaster.
My heart has only just recovered after Dan broke it.
I can’t risk it again when I’m leaving in two weeks.
It’s late on Sunday when I finally wake up. At least I assume it is because the winter sun looks way too high for early morning.
I got a second wind when I finally got up to my room last night, ended up writing well into the early hours. Pete was great inspiration, and if one of my characters has morphed into a heavily stubbled lumberjack type, then that’s purely coincidental.
One drawback of working so late means I’ve slept past breakfast, and I’m starving. When I get lost in my writing, I often forget to eat.
If I want food now, I’m probably going to have to venture outside the pub. Which I guess I should anyway, I could do with some fresh air.
It’s only when I reach for my phone that I see a message from Pete.
My heart skips a beat at seeing his name on my screen, and I’m smiling before I’ve even read it. I flop back on the pillows and palm my face, groaning.
Rein it in, Charlie.
You’re thirty-two years old, not sixteen.
It’s nice, though, to know someone’s been thinking about me. That they’re at least a little interested. And I’ve missed that, too.
It’s just a text, I remind myself, and drop my hand to look at my phone and read it, laughing at what he’s called himself.
NYE Pete: Morning. I had a great time last night, thanks for meeting me. Did you manage to get all your writing done?
It’s tame as far as texts go. Polite. But warmth still fills my chest as I read it again. Dan used to take the piss about my writing. Called it a stupid hobby that got in the way of everything he wanted to do. God, he was such a wanker. How did I not see it?
He’s the main reason I’m still wary about telling people. Which is why it pissed me off when I thought Pete was laughing at me.
I believed him when he said he wasn’t, and as silly as it might be, the fact he remembered and asked me about it reinforces that. I check the time on his text and realise he sent it over three hours ago. Shit, he probably thinks I’m ignoring him.
Charlie: Sorry only just woken up and seen this. I did get all my words done, and more. Which is why I overslept
Charlie: And I had a great time last night, too
I’ve only just put my phone down on the bedside table when it vibrates, Pete’s name lighting up the screen. I should be embarrassed at how quickly I snatch it up again.
NYE Pete: Does that mean you’re ahead of schedule?
I grin at my phone, hoping I know why he’s asking.
Charlie: Maybe. Why?
NYE Pete: I was hoping to take you to lunch
Charlie: Today?
NYE Pete: Yes? Unless you’ve already eaten?
Charlie: Nope. I’m still in bed. And I’m starving
His next text doesn’t come through right away, making me reread what I just sent. Should I not have said I was still in bed? Too flirty?
Three dots appear, then vanish.
Then it happens again.
Charlie: Pete?
NYE Pete: Sorry! Was stuck picturing that image
Charlie: What? Me starving? It’s not pretty
NYE Pete: Yes, that’s exactly what I was imagining
He adds the straight-faced emoji and it makes me laugh out loud.
Ohh, we’re so flirting.
Charlie: Ahh, you meant this?
I lift my phone and take a selfie. I’ve got the quilt pulled up to my chin, so all you can see is my face. But my hair is, for once, playing nice and I look all sleep-rumpled and hopefully kind of sexy.
My finger hovers over the Send button.
We’ve already decided on just friends. Is this crossing a line or harmless flirting?
Fuck it.
I hit Send.
It’s not like it’s a dick pic.
I imagine Pete looking at my picture and feel my cheeks heat. Before I can get too up in my head about it, he replies.
NYE Pete: That’s not playing fair
Charlie: Sorry
I’m so not.
Charlie: So, I believe you promised me lunch?
NYE Pete: I did. Pick you up in about an hour?