Chapter 10 - Charlotte
TEN
CHARLOTTE
It’s still dark when I wake up and feel something warm and wet moving between my thighs.
I blink through sleep, not sure if I’m dreaming, but the pleasure is sharp and real.
“Koda?” I whisper, my voice scratchy.
Koda’s head lifts just enough for his eyes to meet mine. He squeezes my hip.
“Morning, gorgeous.”
Then his mouth dips again, and he sucks my clit between his lips. His tongue moves slowly at first, then faster. I let out a loud moan.
“Koda, oh fuck, that’s—”
He groans, the sound vibrating through my whole body.
“You taste so good first thing in the morning. Love feeling you come apart for me.”
I grip his hair, rolling my hips, chasing the heat. “Don’t stop. Please.”
Koda chuckles, dark and hungry. “I’m not going anywhere. I want you loud.”
He keeps his mouth on me, working me until I tremble and cry out. A rush of pleasure floods me, sharp and overwhelming. I gasp his name, thighs shaking around his head as I come.
When I start to pull away, he kisses my hip, then slides up my body. His beard is rough on my stomach and his cock is hard against my thigh. I reach down, and he grins as he grabs a condom from the nightstand.
“Still want me, baby?” he murmurs, rolling it on.
I nod and hook my leg over his hip. “You know I do.”
He pushes inside, slow and deep, and we both groan. His hands pin my wrists above my head. He thrusts, his voice hot in my ear.
“You love this, don’t you? Love how deep I get, how I fill you up.”
“Yes, Koda, I love it. Please, don’t stop.”
He pounds into me, holding nothing back now.
I cry out, meeting every thrust, my body desperate for every rough, perfect inch of him.
He kisses me hard, swallowing my moans, and soon I fall apart for him again, clinging to his shoulders. He comes with a shudder, holding me so tight I almost forget the rest of the world exists. For a long time, we just lie there tangled up, the air thick with sex and something close to sadness.
As the adrenaline fades, reality settles in.
I shouldn’t have stayed.
On Saturday night, we agreed it would be just a one-time thing. A secret we’d pretend never happened.
But after the first time, we couldn’t stop.
We fell into each other for hours, over and over, like we’d waited a lifetime for this.
When we finally made it out of bed, it was almost dinner. We ate leftovers at his little kitchen table, our knees pressed together. We talked for hours, about my old life, his regrets, what we’d do if being together wasn’t so complicated.
After dinner, we watched the fire, and I fell asleep on his chest. I felt safe, cherished, and wanted in a way I never had before. That’s what terrifies me now.
The more time I have with him, the harder it is to believe that walking away is the right thing. I keep thinking about the way he looked at me, how gentle his hands were. I know what we said, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to lock this away and act like he never touched me.
It hurts more than I ever thought it could.
And now it’s Monday morning.
Eventually, I force myself up and shower. The hot water doesn’t clear my head or the ache in my chest.
Getting dressed is torture. My bra is tangled.
My jeans barely zip. Koda moves around, putting the room back together, folding the blanket just so, all careful and quiet.
I steal glances, memorizing the curve of his shoulders, the scar over his hip, the way the light softens the lines around his eyes.
The clock ticks toward six-thirty. No matter how slow I move, time keeps running out.
I wish I could freeze this moment and live in it forever.
Koda walks me to the front door, his hand resting on my lower back. The cabin is quiet, sun just beginning to slice through the trees outside. He opens the door and cold mountain air sweeps in, making me shiver.
He looks down at me.
“You sure you want to go?”
I force a smile.
“I have to. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to leave.”
His hand lingers on my cheek, thumb tracing the line of my jaw.
“I wish things were different.”
“Me too.”
I step outside. The mud from last night is half-frozen. Koda follows and locks the door behind us. He walks me to his truck, not saying a word, just holding my hand.
Each step away from the cabin feels like a little death.
I climb into the passenger seat. He shuts the door, then rounds the hood to the driver’s side. For a second, I think he might say something else, confess something that will make all of this make sense.
But he just starts the engine and shifts into gear.
The world at the bottom of the mountain feels like a different planet.
Koda pulls into the cracked parking lot of my apartment complex, his truck looming over the sad collection of sedans and hatchbacks. Streetlights flicker, casting everything in yellow haze. Then he parks, kills the engine, and sits there staring at the steering wheel.
The silence is suffocating.
I keep my eyes on the dashboard. Every second that ticks by is one less second I get to pretend I’m still his.
“I guess this is it then,” I say. “We go back to being strangers now.”
Koda’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look at me.
“Thank you so much for everything, Koda,” I continue. “For the ride and letting me stay over and—”
“Charlotte,” he says, but I can’t stop now or I’ll fall apart completely.
“I had a really great time. It was...” I swallow hard.
“Charlotte, look at me.”
I turn. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them.
“Baby, I want you to know that these last two days have been the best of my life. What we shared these last two days meant everything to me.”
Tears well up in my eyes. I blink rapidly.
“I wish so bad that things could be different,” Koda says. His hand reaches for mine, engulfing it completely. “If you were anyone else... Charlotte, baby, I would choose you in a heartbeat.”
A tear escapes and slides down my cheek.
“But I’m not anyone else,” I reply.
“No.” His thumb brushes away the tear. “You’re not. You’re Jason’s daughter. And besides my sister, he’s the closest thing to family I have.”
I swallow hard. “So I guess this is goodbye.”
“It has to be.” His voice cracks slightly. “We can’t do this to him.”
“I know.” Another tear falls. “I just didn’t expect it to hurt this much.”
Koda’s fingers tighten around mine.
“What if we run into each other?” I ask. “At Dad’s or something?”
“We’ll be adults about it.” His expression hardens. “We’ll be polite and distant and... safe.”
Safe.
The word feels like a prison sentence. I want to be reckless and stupid and wrapped in his arms again. I want to tell my dad the truth and deal with the fallout. I want to be brave enough to fight for this.
But I’m not.
“I should go,” I whisper as I pull my hand from his.
The loss of contact leaves me cold.
Koda nods, his face settling back into that unreadable mask I’ve seen him wear around others. It hurts to watch him put it on for me now.
I reach for the door handle, but hesitate.
“Will you be okay?”
Something flickers in his eyes.
“Eventually,” he says.
I step out of the truck, the cold morning air slapping my face. The door feels impossibly heavy as I push it closed.
Through the window, Koda watches me.
I stand there for a moment, waiting for... I don’t know what. For him to change his mind? For me to find the courage to change mine?
He raises his hand in a small wave, then turns the key in the ignition.
The engine roars to life and I force myself to step back, to turn toward my building, to walk away.
Each step feels like moving through concrete.
Behind me, I hear the crunch of tires as Koda’s truck pulls away.
I don’t look back. I can’t.
The key trembles in my hand as I unlock my apartment door. Inside, everything is exactly as I left it. Textbooks on the coffee table, half-empty wine glass on the counter, my mannequin head with the botched perm staring from the kitchen island.
I slump against the closed door, my back sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor.
The apartment feels empty and cold. Or maybe I’m the one who’s empty now.
The sound of a key in the lock startles me.
I quickly wipe my face, but it’s useless.
Sarah pushes the door open, nearly hitting me with it before she notices me huddled on the floor.
“Oh my gosh, Charlotte! What are you doing on the—” She stops, taking in my red eyes and trembling chin. “Honey, what happened? Are you okay?”
I open my mouth to say I’m fine, but what comes out instead is a sob.
Sarah drops her bag immediately and kneels beside me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.” She pushes my tangled hair back from my face. “Did something happen at Koda’s? Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head violently.
“No. He would never.”
“Then what? You’re scaring me.”
I take a shuddering breath.
“I slept with him.”
Sarah’s eyes widen.
“Was it bad? Because you look like someone died.”
“It was perfect,” I whisper. “He was perfect. Everything was perfect.”
“Then why are you crying on our floor at seven in the morning?”
“Because we can’t be together.” My voice cracks. “We decided that we have to stop seeing each other. Because of my dad.”
Sarah sits back on her heels.
“So you hooked up, it was amazing, and now you’re just... what? Going to pretend it never happened?”
I nod miserably.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sarah stands and pulls me up with her. “Come on. You need coffee and carbs before we tackle this.”
She guides me to the kitchen, sits me at the counter, and starts the coffee maker. I watch her move around our tiny kitchen, pulling out bread and eggs.
“What happened in Denver?” I sniff. “How’s your mom?”
“Her surgery got pushed to next week.” She cracks eggs into a bowl. “And thank goodness for that, because clearly I can’t leave you alone for forty-eight hours without your life turning into a soap opera.”
Despite everything, I laugh.
“It’s not a soap opera,” I protest. “It’s... complicated.”
“Oh, please.” Sarah rolls her eyes as she whisks the eggs. “Man meets woman. They have chemistry. They sleep together. Tale as old as time.”
“Sarah, he’s my dad’s best friend.”
“So? Your dad doesn’t own either of you.”
I fiddle with a napkin, shredding it into tiny pieces.
“You don’t understand. They’ve been friends since before I was born. Koda’s like family to him.”
Sarah pours the eggs into a hot pan.
“And what about what you want? Does that matter at all in this equation?”
“Of course it does. But—”
“No buts.” She points the spatula at me. “You’re an adult. Koda’s an adult. Your dad is an adult who will eventually get over it.”
“You didn’t see Koda’s face when we said goodbye.” I swallow hard. “He looked... defeated.”
Sarah’s expression softens.
“Of course he looked defeated. He cares about you.”
“Yeah. But not enough to fight for this. For us.”
“Maybe he thinks he’s protecting you.” She slides a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. “Men are stupid that way. They think they’re being noble when really they’re just being cowards.”
I poke at the eggs with my fork.
“He’s not a coward. He’s loyal. To my dad.”
“And what about loyalty to his own heart? Or yours?” Sarah sits across from me, coffee mug cradled in her hands.
I take a bite of eggs.
“It doesn’t matter. We made our decision.”
“Decisions can be unmade.” Sarah reaches across the counter to squeeze my hand. “People change their minds all the time.”
“Not Koda. Once he decides something, that’s it.” I think of his face as he drove away. “He’s stubborn.”
“So are you.” Sarah grins. “It’s one of your better qualities.”
I shake my head and push the plate away.
“Not this time. This time, I’m going to be an adult and respect his choice. Our choice.”
Sarah studies me for a long moment.
“And what if you see him again? At your dad’s birthday, or Christmas?”
The thought makes my stomach drop.
“We agreed to be polite and distant. Like nothing ever happened.”
Sarah snorts. “That sounds healthy.”
“It’s the only way.” I stand. “I need to get ready for class.”
Sarah catches my wrist.
“Charlotte, wait. Tell me one thing. Was it worth it? Even knowing how it would end?”
I think about Koda’s hands on my skin. The way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. How safe I felt wrapped in his arms.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It was worth every second.”
Sarah smiles.
“Then maybe this isn’t the end of the story after all.”
I don’t answer. I can’t let myself hope for something that can never happen.
Instead, I head to my bedroom. I sit down on my bed and I close my eyes and let myself remember one last time—his hands, his mouth, the weight of his body over mine.
Then I take a deep breath and force it all into a box in the corner of my mind, locking it tight.
It’s over. We’re over before we even began.
And I just have to learn to live with that.