Chapter 7 - Charlie
Cravin’ - Stiletto, Kendyle Paige ?
“W e've agreed we're just going to be friends. I think? I don't know, but we both agreed we don't want babies and then said friends a whole bunch, so I think that means we're just friends. Right?” I say, flinging myself down on Mila’s bed. Nova is sitting in the corner chair so they can listen to me rant about finally going to see Porter a few days ago. We exchanged numbers and he had some more meals sent over for me which I now have in the fridge.
“And that's another thing, he sent me more meals, so he's basically said I don't need to see him again. Ughhhhhh. What does it mean!?”
“I think you're overthinking this. Porter is a guy. They don't sit there plotting away and reading into things,” Nova says, waving her arm at me.
“I’m not reading into anything.” My voice an octave higher. “Me. Overreact! I would never do such a thing,” I say laughing at the blatant dig she's making.
So I might overthink some situations when a guy I like is involved. It's not every day I even like a guy enough to be more than a date on the calendar, so we're stepping into somewhat uncharted territory.
“Message him and ask what time he eats dinner at the bar and see if you can join him. Force yourself on him … in a I’ll respect your boundaries if you say no , kind of way.” Nova says.
“Mila? What do you reckon?” I say, looking over at her as she holds a cloth with a couple of drops of lime essence on it to her nose.
“I think you all still stink,” she says
“Sorry, I got too close,” I say, getting up off the bed.
For the past week Mila's hormones have been going crazy and we all smell horrible to her. It doesn't matter if we've just showered either. She kicked Dante out of bed and told him he had to leave because he smelled like old lady soap and it was making her gag.
He's currently sleeping on the floor in the corner as it's the furthest away from her he can be without actually leaving the room. I think he's coping well considering all of the changes he's had to adapt to. Not to mention the strained look on his face every time Mila has a bad day.
I can't imagine the helplessness he must feel in all of this but he’s on track to have their house finished and is counting down to a mission he and Ace have been planning for over six months. He's tried to scrap it several times but Mila keeps threatening to divorce him if he does. She keeps saying the lives they intend to save are more important than him hovering over her while she's vomiting.
“Let's hope tomorrow I smell like a unicorn and not sour yoghurt,” Nova says. “Charlie, just put me out of my misery and message him already. How am I meant to gossip with Ace about you if I don't have any new information!”
“Okay, okay. I'm doing it now,” I say, muffled into a throw pillow. Clearly peer pressure and my need to know where we stand outweigh any sense of rational thought.
Me: Hey, are you free later?
The almost immediate sound of my phone ringing causes me to fumble it in my hands before unceremoniously dropping it in the doorway just as Dante and Ace appear on the landing. Facing the wall I quickly gather my composure and answer.
Hey, I didn't expect you to call me?
Yeah, sorry. I hope that's okay?
I can't stand texting. If you ever get
a long winded message from me
you might want to call for help
because something will be wrong.
Sorry, did I make it weird?
No, No, not at all. I was just wondering what you're doing for dinner tonight? I thought I could eat with you and have some company.
Oh, ahh. I didn't expect you to say that. Thought maybe you needed help moving something. But yeah, come on over when you're done and I'll give you some company.
Okay, I'll see you soon then.
Ending the call, I rest my head against the wall for a second before turning to everyone, now crowded in the corner where Nova is sitting. “He thought I wanted help moving furniture,” I say.
A collective groan comes from the group before Dante mumbles, “And I thought I was clueless.” A small smile crosses his face as he looks toward Mila, who gazes back at him. Taking a step toward her she immediately calls out, “Stop. Stay away from me, old lady soap man. I love you but you smell so bad right now.”
Tapping the side of his head he grins at her and says, “Baby, I hope you know I’m storing each and every one of these moments you refuse my lovin' on you. Your punishment is becoming quite extensive.”
“That's how I got into this mess to begin with,” she mutters and rolls her eyes.
“Keep going, the list is just getting longer,” he says, chuckling to himself. I can't help but look at them and feel a little envious of what they have together.
△△△
Walking into the bar later that night I'm greeted with a warm familiarity. The low hum of people talking, while soft music thrums through the speakers creates a sense of calmness. A quick scan around and I can’t see Porter anywhere so I head over to a quiet corner of the bar and take a seat, looking over the menu to see what I want to order.
“Hello, friend ,” a gruff voice purrs into my ear as two strong arms rest alongside mine, effectively caging me in.
“You were two seconds away from getting head-butted,” I huff, swivelling my bar stool around. Porter steps into me, standing in between my legs, leaning over me as I take him in.
Why does he have to be so gods damn good looking?
I also note that he called me his friend again. Should I just take the hint he's giving and not even try to start something with him?
Letting out a sigh, I look up into his dark eyes as they watch me, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his chest.
“What's for dinner, friend ? I ask.
“Let me know what you want and I'll tell the guys in the kitchen. I'll come sit with you in between orders.”
He smiles down at me and I wonder if there's some part of him that can see us being more. Surely the connection I feel with him isn’t all one sided. This thing we have between us is like nothing I've ever felt before.
I'm tempted to give him a little motivation by fawning over another guy. I know I shouldn't, but I want him to decide on what this is between us. Even after all the times I've told myself I wouldn't want to be with someone who doesn't want me, I've still never been in this position of really liking a guy and not having them like me back. I mean, what's a girl meant to do in this situation? How obvious do I need to be before I have to literally spell it out to him?
“I'll have the first dinner meal on the menu and I'll just work my way through them until I've found my favourites,” I say, trying to hide the disappointment of this evening turning out differently than I expected.
Putting my order in with the kitchen he makes a quick check on the regulars before coming back to me with an iced water.
“Do you want anything else to drink?” he asks.
“No, water is fine tonight. I'll get my usual next time.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me when I say this but he doesn't enquire further.
“Do you bring your dates here? Wine and dine them with all this,” I say, gesturing to the booths along the far wall.
It's a little degrading to ask but he's ignoring the conversation clues I'm dropping and if I'm honest, I want to know. I want to know if I'm just one of many that he's done this to. The way he stands at the bar and cleans glasses while the veins on his forearms beg me to lick them. I want to know if this is just typical Porter, or if he's just hot and cold with me.
Coming around the bar he cages me in like he did before and stares at me for a moment. Looking, as if he’s trying to find my secrets.
“I don't date Charlie. I had one long-term thing several years ago and I haven't been with anyone since you. I don't date. I don't want to date,” he growls.
“Me and you. What happened that night ...” He rubs a hand over his face, shutting his eyes for a second.
“Please don't say it was a mistake,” I whisper. The look of hurt flashes across his eyes.
“Never. Charlie, it was not a mistake. It was more of an awakening and I just don't know if I'm ready to jump in again. Things with my ex … it didn't end well and I just need some more time. I … I … I think we should just be friends for now.”
His brow dips and he seems to struggle with his next words. “I don't want to hold you back. You should get out there, meet new people, see what happens.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I take in what he's saying. I'm angry, but also I don't think I am at the same time. He’s communicating with me when I need him to and I don't want to make a fool of myself if I keep throwing myself at him.
“Just to be clear, if someone asks me out on a date then I should say yes to him?”
“Sure,” he says, gritting his teeth. “We’re just friends, Charlie. You can date whoever you want to.”
Although he's saying the words out loud, I don't think he's saying them for me. I think he's trying to convince himself.
“Okay friend , I’ll spread my wings a little and see where I land.”