TWELVE
Noah
I lost my goddamn mind when it came to Charlotte. The girl put me off balance. No, worse—she made my brain stop working.
My afternoon with Shannon had been enjoyable enough until I’d spied Charlotte lurking in the doorway. Her face was flushed and her mouth hung open, and it was shameful how quickly my focus shifted to her. I’d expected the girl to back away with disgust when our gazes had met, but no.
She’d liked what she saw.
It wasn’t shock making her cheeks red or her lips part, it was desire.
Everything that followed was a hazy blur of lust. Exhibitionism usually didn’t rank high on my kink list, but when she was watching? It was so fucking hot, I could barely keep it together.
And when she’d put her hand between her legs, I was done for.
I’d been in the lifestyle almost ten years, and I’d had lots of partners and a wide variety of experiences. So how the fuck had this experience with her blown everything else out of the water? How had it been the most erotic thing I’d ever participated in?
And then our conversation afterward—it was almost cruel how curious and interested she’d been. Shit, she was too good to be true.
I saw so much of myself in her when I’d been starting out. If she’d been anyone else, I would have loved getting to show her more. To watch her open her eyes and see all the new things out there.
It was fucking stupid of me to put her on the counter and give her an orgasm, but I’d lost all reason, and it was entirely her fault. I justified it to myself, saying she needed it. That I owed it to her.
When it was over, I couldn’t even bring myself to feel regret. There was no undoing it, so all we could do was move forward.
Friends.
I knew it was a terrible, selfish idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. I’d meant what I said about her being one of my only friends, and if I’d been stronger, I would have cut her off. Trying to be friends with her was going to be an exercise in torture.
To put a finer point on that, after she’d agreed we’d be friends with fucked-up benefits, Charlotte announced that since she was already here, she was going to clean. My unease with the arrangement increased tenfold. I liked power imbalance when I was in a scene, but only when our roles were defined, and consent was given.
This was . . . messy.
Like a coward, I hid in my office and tried to focus on my trades. I didn’t reply to the group chat with Patrick and Shannon, where they wanted to set up our next date. My head was swimming with thoughts of the girl who was in my bedroom, tidying up like nothing had happened there.
Was she as good at compartmentalizing as I was?
Maybe she was even better, because when she was done, she strolled into my office with an easy smile.
“I’m finished and heading out.” Her gaze swept over me just like it should. It was casual and friendly, and I hated it. I wanted to see her as affected as she made me. But she was immune. “You want to stick with Tuesday next week for your cleaning?”
I cleared the stickiness from my throat. “Yeah, that be great.”
“Okay.” Her smile was bright. “Talk to you later, friend.”
I sat to one side of Ardy’s office and took notes as Huston discussed the pitches he wanted to make to the Electralights team. The music festival would be setting next year’s lineup soon, and Warbler hoped to get another act included besides Stella, who’d headline.
My phone vibrated with a text message, and I glanced at the preview on my smartwatch.
Charlotte: Are you free tonight? I need a favor.
I dismissed the notification and tried to focus on my work, but I struggled. Whenever I glanced at my boss, the reminder of who his daughter was would play on repeat in my head.
Charlotte: I need to do something difficult and could really use a friend.
Shit. I pulled in a tight breath. I didn’t have plans tonight, but even if I had, how the hell could I say no to that? Whatever it was, it had to be rough, because I couldn’t imagine I’d been her first choice to reach out to.
Ardy understood his people needed to be accessible and probably didn’t think anything of it when I pulled out my phone and typed out my response.
Me: Yes, I’m available tonight. Everything okay?
Charlotte: Yeah, I’ll explain later. Can I pick you up at 7?
I sent back a ‘thumbs up’ emoji, then put the screen to sleep and pocketed my phone. She’d said everything was okay, but for some reason, I continued to worry. It was impossible to know her tone through text, I reminded myself.
But my concern for her persisted the rest of the day, and it didn’t let up until she appeared on my front porch.
“Hey,” I said, stepping out to join her.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she looked nice, but I bit it back. She did look good, though. She wore a blue sleeveless shirt, white skinny jeans, and a pair of heeled sandals that made her almost as tall as I was. She wore the same makeup as the first night we’d met, and I got the sense she’d put a lot of effort into her look tonight.
Oh, shit. Was this a date?
The logical side of my brain was annoyed. Hadn’t we said we were just going to be friends?
“Hi.” She looked more relieved to see me, rather than excited. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
I pulled my front door closed and locked it. “Sure. Where are we going?”
She hesitated, and her voice filled with embarrassment. “To my ex’s place.”
“What?” Oh, shit. Was that why she looked nice?
“I know this is really freaking awkward, but I didn’t know who else to ask. None of my friends like Zach.” Her gaze refused to meet mine, and she stared at the center of my chest. “When I moved out, I forgot to grab my iPad, and he’s been giving me the runaround about it since.”
Moved out? We hadn’t talked about her past relationships, so I’d had no idea she’d had one so serious—or so recent. Hadn’t she told me it had been a while for her the night we’d met?
“I need to get it back,” she said, “before my parents find out. They don’t need another reason to hate him.” She lifted her chin and set her gaze on me, trying to look strong. “I don’t know how this is going to go. He might be fine and hand it over no problem, but he also might be an asshole about it. I figure it’ll help if you’re there.”
It was a lot to digest, and when I didn’t move or say anything right away, desperation crept into her eyes.
“You can say no,” she said. “I know it’s a big ask.”
Was it, though? This wasn’t hard, and it was something I’d do for a friend. Any friend. Plus, maybe it’d help us get back onto solid footing, to lead us into the friend zone. That was why I was going to say yes. It had absolutely nothing to do with my curiosity about her ex-boyfriend.
I gestured toward her car in the driveway, which was barely more than a glorified golf cart. “Let’s go.”
Charlotte’s Toyota Yaris was red and tiny, and at least five years old because they’d stopped making them a while back. I eyed the microscopic passenger seat, wondering if I’d fit, but I did and got in without complaint.
As soon as she started it up, Stella’s voice rang from the speakers, and it was so loud, I couldn’t hear myself think. I was grateful when she turned it down to a volume we could talk over, before backing out of my driveway.
As she drove, she filled me in on her day, talking about her cleaning channel and the brand she was trying to build. She didn’t need to tell me it was going well, because I kept tabs on it and had been watching the growth. My interest was just a side effect from years of analyzing the markets, I told myself.
I didn’t watch her videos because I wanted to see her, and I was indifferent to the tight, flattering clothes she wore during them. And I definitely hadn’t considered coming home early one night to catch her when she was cleaning my place and see where the conversation would lead.
Because I wouldn’t allow it.
Without prompting, she told me about her vision for her fledgling business. How she wanted to collaborate with other influencers, and to be sponsored by big brands, and maybe someday sell her own merchandise.
But she spoke like these were fantasies, with no hope of them being anything more than dreams.
“All the admin,” she said, “and the business stuff? I’m just terrible at it. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
“Really? It seems like you’re doing great. Every video you post is better than the last, in my opinion.”
The second the words left my mouth, I cringed internally. Did that make me sound like a creep?
Charlotte glanced at me with surprise. “You watch my videos?”
I gave her a lopsided smile. “Think of it as a testament to how good they are, because I hate cleaning.”
She grinned, and I shouldn’t have liked how cute that made her look.
So I found somewhere else for my thoughts to go. “What’s the stuff you’re struggling with?”
For a moment, it seemed like she wasn’t sure where to start. “Okay, so I’ve got this list of companies I want to reach out to, but... I don’t know. I don’t know how to ask stuff.”
“You mean, cold calling?” My mouth ran away with itself. “I could help with that, if you wanted.”
What the fuck , I yelled inside my head. I was already stretched thin between Warbler, my day trading, and helping my parents. When would I have time?
“Yeah?” There was so much hopefulness in her voice, I knew I was screwed. I couldn’t walk the offer back. She adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and looked pleased. “Awesome. I could use all the help I can get.”
Well, great.
With that settled, I turned my gaze out the window and watched the landscape whip by. She was driving fast, even for an interstate. I’d discovered most Nashville drivers seemed to have difficulty finding the accelerator—but not Charlotte.
She also drove like she was required to keep the front end of her Yaris only a foot behind the car in front of her. The proximity made my blood pressure climb, and when the BMW in front of us flashed its brake lights, I tried to push the invisible brake pedal on the passenger side.
Why hadn’t I offered to drive?
I liked being the driver, so this was hard for me, and I aimed for a joking tone. “Question for you. Have you thought about not driving up this guy’s ass? Could be fun. Maybe you should give it a try.”
She laughed, amused. “So sorry, Dad .”
Instantly, her father’s image flashed in my mind. “Don’t call me that.”
“Okay . . . Daddy .”
Fuck, there it was again, that strange, exciting thrill. The effect of it was so strong, it barely registered she’d done what I asked, and the BMW pulled ahead, giving us breathing room.
But there wasn’t much air left inside the cramped confines of her Yaris. Her daddy comment had charged the space, filling it with a sexual tension that was as unwanted as it was hot.
The longer we sat in silence, the worse it became. I needed something to distract us both. “So does this ‘Zach’ know I’m tagging along?”
“Nope. He doesn’t even know we’re coming.”
I pulled my shoulders back. “What?”
“He hasn’t responded to any of my texts, and it’s been weeks.”
As she took the offramp, I strangled back my unease. “What if we get there and he’s not home?”
“Oh, trust me,” she said. “He’s home. Thursday nights he goes to the bars with some of his friends from Sigma Phi Alpha, so he’ll be at his place pregaming right now.”
I was about to make a remark about college kids, when I remembered that she was the same age as college kids. Plus, I didn’t know what kind of breakup they’d had. If he wasn’t responding to her texts, it probably hadn’t been good.
What if she still had feelings for him?
Charlotte came to the stop sign at the end of the ramp, didn’t bother with a turn signal, and then turned left. It forced my gaze to her dashboard so I wouldn’t see anything else. Fuck, I was such a control freak, and the worst part was...
If she’d let me, I’d love to have control over her.
Friends!
The warning fired through my brain, causing me to gnash my teeth.
We listened to Taylor Swift sing about the smallest man in the world while we drove, passing strip malls and gas stations. We were on the outskirts of Davidson University, where it’d be a hike to campus, but I understood that. Rent was surely a lot cheaper out here.
Abruptly, the car began to brake, and I glanced around with concern. What did she see that made her need to slow down? Cars were in the other lane, coming from the other direction without issue and—
She turned left into the parking lot of an apartment building, and a frustrated sound escaped from me.
“What?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have used a turn signal there either,” I said dryly. “It’s nobody’s business where you’re going.”
“Oh, my God.” She laughed lightly. “Get in the back seat.”
“Excuse me?”
Her tone was playful. “You need to be back there if you’re going to backseat drive.” She drove down the aisle of the parking lot, searching for a space, and gestured to something. “That’s Zach’s car.”
Once we’d parked and she shut off the engine, Charlotte turned in her seat to face me. “You sure you’re okay doing this? He’s not the nicest guy when he’s been drinking.”
My blood ran cold.
Was this the real reason she’d asked me to come along? For protection? I glared up at the apartment building, already hating this kid’s guts. I answered her question with action, pushing open the door and climbing out.
She did the same and stood beside her car, looking at me over the hood with a nervous expression. “Don’t judge me,” she said quietly and rushed. “I wish I’d been smart enough not to fall for him.”
Oh, man. Her words punched me like a slug to the chest. My voice matched her soft tone. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I got you, Charlotte.”
She nodded her acceptance, and then I followed her up the path to the front door.
Calling it a lobby would be generous. It was mostly just a hallway with a few mailboxes on one side and a set of stairs on the other, all lit by an underpowered chandelier overhead. She’d lived here once, and that had probably sucked. The apartment building was depressing.
Again, I reminded myself that college kids couldn’t afford to be picky. My place at NYU had been a lot worse.
We went up the steps, and when she reached the door at the end of the hallway, she took a deep breath, visually checked in with me, and then knocked.
Approaching footsteps could be heard behind the door, and it swung open, almost as if the occupant had been expecting someone. But it was immediately clear Charlotte was not who he’d hoped it would be. His gaze swept over me and then her, and somehow he missed seeing how good she looked, because his smile drained away.
“What the hell?” he demanded.
I bristled at the dark tone he’d directed at her. Who the fuck was this guy? Zach’s older brother? An uncle? The man was probably my age, and I sized him up. He was taller and seemed to be in excellent shape, but I wasn’t intimidated. Most of the time, the guys who came out of the gate with aggression were the first ones to back down when challenged.
Because the door was wide open, I could see into the shitty apartment. Dirty dishes seemed to decorate every flat surface, and a sweatshirt and two pairs of pants hung haphazardly on the couch in the living area. There wasn’t anything on the walls except for a poster of Davidson University’s basketball team from their Elite Eight appearance years ago.
Everything about the place screamed a college kid lived here.
So, where the fuck was he?
Charlotte stood at my side, not withering under the man’s pissed off glare. “I’m here for my iPad, Zach.”
Holy shit. This was her ex-boyfriend?