TWENTY
Charlotte
When I spent the night at Noah’s, I didn’t sleep in his room. It was surprising—and disappointing—given what we’d done at the club. But he’d asked for this boundary, and I’d begrudgingly respected it.
It’d taken everything in me not to sneak into his bed in the middle of the night. I told myself that in the morning we’d get up, have breakfast together, and then fool around some more.
But when I strolled out into his kitchen wearing my sexiest pajamas, I found him fully dressed, finishing his cup of coffee, and he looked weary.
“Morning,” I said softly. “Everything okay?”
He jammed the heel of his palm into one eye. “Not really. My mom called at seven. My dad’s been throwing up all night, and she thinks we should take him to the emergency room.”
My gaze flew to the clock on the microwave. Shit, it was a quarter to nine. Panic seeped out into my voice. “Oh, God, Noah. Have you been waiting on me?”
“I didn’t want to be gone before you were up. I didn’t want you to think I’d just left you.”
My heart hurt for him.
And now I felt extra shitty about the situation because I’d spent ten minutes making myself look cute in the bathroom before coming out of my room. I waved a hand, signaling for him to get moving because I didn’t want him to waste another second on me. He’d wasted too many already. “Go, go. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” he asked, but he was already rising to his feet.
I nodded quickly, saying nothing as he strode away from the kitchen table, leaving behind his coffee mug and a plate full of crumbs from his breakfast. When he reached me, he looked... befuddled.
Like he had no idea what to do with me.
The words came from him were filled with regret. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I offered. “And don’t let me slow you down any more than I already have.”
But he didn’t move. He lingered in front of me, unsure of how to say goodbye, and I could see the question in his eyes. Should we kiss?
No was the answer he came up with. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he flung a hand toward his pantry, “so help yourself to whatever, and stay as long you like.”
“Okay.”
With that settled, he gave me a final look, turned, and strode quickly from the room.
I remained in the kitchen, my feet glued to the cold tile floor, and my gaze turned absentmindedly to the table. Well, this morning was off to a disappointing start . I swallowed a breath and marched forward, collecting the used mug and plate, and carried them to the dishwasher.
The top rack rumbled as I pulled it out and—
A hand closed around my hip and turned me so my back was against the sink, and I found myself staring up at Noah’s deep brown eyes. I only got a glimpse, though, before he crushed his mouth to mine.
Had he intended it to be a quick goodbye kiss? Because it became a hell of a lot more. His mouth tasted of longing and promise, and if he hadn’t already stolen my breath with his stunning action, this kiss would have done it.
I fell so deeply into it that when he ended the kiss, I was dizzy. Unsteady. I blinked up at him, heavy with desire and yearning, and discovered he looked just as off balance. He held my gaze for a one single heartbeat.
And then he turned to flee a second time.
Without thought, I pressed my fingertips to my lips, as if checking to see if that had really happened or if I’d just imagined it. But my body was warm and buzzing, and the disappointment over him needing to leave faded substantially.
He’d gotten his ‘out.’ He could have left, but he made the choice to come back and kiss me. It hadn’t been a quick, perfunctory one, either. He’d told me so without using words, showing me how badly he’d wished he didn’t have to go.
He’d all but said, “Until next time, Charlotte.”
Eggplant colored tulle cascaded over the top of the dressing room door, and I stared at the poof of fabric in disbelief. Brianna was on the other side, and her hand holding the hanger jutted up, waiting for me to take it from her.
“Really?” I muttered under my breath.
“Just try it on,” she ordered.
I grabbed the hanger and pulled the rest of the dress over the door, doing my best to sound chill. “You got it, boss.”
Below the door, her feet disappeared from view as she headed off to find more options, although there couldn’t be that many left. Sasha, Cait, and I had tried on nearly every bridesmaid dress in the bridal store.
I slipped the purple fabric over my head and shimmied my way inside the shockingly heavy dress. I glanced in the mirror as I struggled to pull up the back zipper, and choked back a snort.
There was no way I was going to wear this abomination.
It looked like the designer had wanted it to be strapless, but decided it was too simple and had to make a last-minute addition. The single shoulder was full of chiffon flowers, beads, and sequins. On its own, it was a lot. But when it was paired with the skirt and its never-ending layers, the dress was comical.
This wasn’t a bridesmaid’s dress. It was fucking ballgown straight out of nineties.
Brianna was waiting by the mirrors, and when I came out, I discovered I was the last one to finish dressing. Cait and Sasha looked at me, wearing the same purple monster, and judging by their expressions, they felt the same as I did.
I gripped the layers of tulle, sashayed over to the group with a giant grin, and channeled the little girl from Despicable Me as I shook my skirt. “It’s so fluffy !”
The girls thought it was funny, but the saleswoman nearby was not amused. She lifted an eyebrow and turned to the bride. “We can get this one in navy. What do you think?
Brianna was exceptionally polite. “Wow. It’s, uh, something. Might be a bit much.”
All of us bridesmaids were feeling a little punchy from trying on so many options, and Sasha flicked at the floral strap of my dress. “It looks like you have a third boob.”
I flicked hers. “You do too.”
Cait climbed up on the pedestal in front of the mirrors and twirled in the dress, making the layers fly around. Her tone was joking and sugary-sweet. “I feel like a princess.”
The tag caught Sasha’s eye, so she put a hand on Cait’s back to stop her and did a double-take at the figure scribbled there.
“Jesus Christ, it’s twelve hundred dollars.”
Cait’s fake smile froze. “Well, now I just feel sad.”
“Me too.” Brianna turned her attention back to the saleswoman. “Any other ideas?”
“I have few more pieces we can pull.”
Brianna put on a fake scowl and pretended to be a strict drill sergeant. “You heard the woman.” She flung a finger at the dressing rooms. “Get your asses back in there.”
I’d left my phone face-up on the chair in the dressing room, and as soon as I’d closed myself in the room, its screen lit up with a notification. Someone had texted me while I’d been out by the mirrors, and I swiped to unlock the screen.
Noah: Hey. What are you up to right now?
It’d been four days since we’d gone to Club Eros, and although we’d texted every day since then, I always got a thrill when his name flashed on my phone. Most of our conversations were about business. I’d had a video go mega viral on Sunday, which was super exciting, but now my DMs were full of people wanting something.
Two of them, at least, seemed like legit requests, and Noah had offered to negotiate on my behalf. The best part of it wasn’t that he was handling all the stuff I didn’t like doing—although that was nice.
No, it was that after we were done talking about business, we’d turned to talking about other things.
Personal things.
Music, and TV shows, and yesterday he’d talked a bit more about his family. I knew his dad was doing better after spending the weekend in the hospital with an infection, and everyone was relieved he was on the mend.
But his dad was sick, and in complete denial about it, and that was really hard on Noah’s entire family.
I was glad he’d opened up to me. I wanted him to feel like he could talk to me about anything, the way I felt about him.
Today, I strove to lighten his mood.
A normal person would have responded with words to the text he’d just sent, but where was the fun in that? I posed in front of the small mirror in my dressing room, trying to get as much of the purple monstrosity into the frame as possible, and snapped a pic. The lighting was nearly as awful as the dress, but it was good enough to give him the idea.
I sent him the picture without any context.
A new dress was pitched over the door. “Don’t freak out that it’s a size larger,” Brianna said. “She said they run small.”
The fabric was a pretty cranberry color, with a halter top and a skirt made of chiffon, and was much lighter than the one I had on. As I wiggled out of the purple dress, I smiled to myself while picturing Noah on the other side of the text exchange. Was he looking at me and wondering what the hell I was wearing?
I pulled on the new dress and zipped up the side zipper, and the saleswoman was right. It was a snug fit. God, why were women’s dress sizes so fucking arbitrary? When I evaluated myself in the mirror, it caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected to like the dress so much because it was pretty simple, but it was flattering.
A new notification popped up on my phone.
Noah: Hope you win first place!
Me: ?
I pushed open my dressing room door and strode out into the waiting area, clutching my phone in one hand. This time I was the first one dressed, and when Brianna’s gaze settled on me, her mouth fell open.
I couldn’t read her expression at all, and it stayed that way as Cait and Sasha came out. Cait was curvier than I was, and she’d probably need to go up another size, but the fit wasn’t that bad, and the cranberry color looked stunning with her skin tone.
Sasha looked great as well, but that wasn’t surprising. That bitch looked good in everything.
My phone vibrated.
Noah: I assume you are competing in a beauty pageant.
I snorted and typed out my response, telling him I was bridesmaid dress shopping and, unfortunately, the bride had decided the purple dress wasn’t making the final cut.
Brianna stood beside the saleswoman, and as she glanced between us bridesmaids, she frowned.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“No, I do.” But her unhappy expression remained.
Sasha couldn’t have looked more confused. “What’s the problem, then?”
“I like it too much. That color looks fabulous on all of you.” Brianna let out a sound of frustration. “Damn. Am I going to have to change my wedding colors again?”
Noah: You could still buy the dress and wear it when you clean. Spin off brand: Fancy Girl Cleans.
I chuckled and thumbed out my next message, which was a huge mistake because it drew everyone’s attention.
Me: I’m not spending $1200 on a cleaning dress.
“Who are you texting?” Sasha asked.
Shit. I dropped my hand so my phone was hidden in the layers of my skirt. “Just a friend.”
That was the wrong answer, because Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you’re not texting Zach.”
“Oh, fuck no.” I flashed an apologetic smile for my profanity to the saleswoman, who didn’t seem to care.
Sasha knew all my friends, and I was being secretive, which set her on alert—so I was going to have to give her something. She wasn’t the type to let things go. I’d specifically agreed not to tell my parents about Noah, and it had seemed safest to keep our whole relationship under wraps.
How would I explain it, anyway?
“It’s Noah,” I said simply.
Cait exchanged a look with the other two girls, checking to see if she was out of the loop, but Brianna looked just as lost.
“Who?” they asked in unison.
Sasha wrinkled her nose. “The guy whose house you’re cleaning?”
“Yeah.” I forced casualness into my voice. “He’s helping me with some business stuff too.”
An evil, knowing grin spread across her face. “Is he? And what’s he getting out of this arrangement?” She straightened like whatever thought had just hit her filled her with excitement. “Did you go with my idea of the French maid costume?”
“No,” I said quickly— too quickly.
“Oh, my God, you did!”
“No,” I was firmer this time, “I didn’t. I mean, I may have thought about it, but just for my videos.” I tacked it on for good measure. “Not for him.”
It wasn’t the least bit convincing, and Brianna chuckled. “Why am I not surprised you’re sleeping with the guy you work for?”
The saleswoman acted like she suddenly had somewhere else to be. She excused herself and disappeared into the rack of dresses.
I sighed loudly. “I am not sleeping with Noah.”
“But she wants to,” Sasha pointed out to the girls.
I didn’t say anything, because what was there to say? And when I didn’t deny it, they knew she was right.
I didn’t just want to sleep with him, but to be with him completely... but it could never happen. I wasn’t at a point in my life right now where I was allowed to fall in love with anyone.
Most of all him.
“It doesn’t matter if I want to—because I’m not going to.” I said it mostly to remind myself. “It’s the last thing I need right now.”
The girls nodded in understanding and turned their attention back to the dresses.
The irony wasn’t lost on me either. I was building a brand, claiming to be an expert on cleaning things up, and yet... my life was a huge fucking mess.
I had cleaned every area of Noah’s house except for his bedroom because I’d been saving that for last. As usual, his bed wasn’t made and there were clothes on the floor, so my first order of business was to grab a laundry basket and tidy up.
I didn’t touch his bed, though.
With the camera placement I had planned, it wouldn’t be in my shot anyway.
Once I’d finished clearing the floor and decluttering the space, I brought in my video supplies and set up my equipment. When that was done, I finally stole a glance at the tangle of sheets on his bed.
Until next time, Charlotte.
That was what his eyes had whispered the last time we’d seen each other. Shit, I was determined to make that happen today.
But first things first.
He wasn’t here yet, anyway.
The video on the agenda for today was about dusting. How to do it properly and quickly. I set up my camera, angling it toward the dresser with the mirror hanging above it, and clipped on my microphone.
I reread the notes I’d made on my phone to make sure I’d hit all the points I wanted to, rehearsed a few times, and got the camera rolling. It didn’t take me long to shoot the video. I was getting better, more efficient, and honestly, I was having fun.
“How the hell am I having fun while dusting?” I asked aloud to the empty room. If I had to rank my favorite chores, dusting would be near the bottom. I shook my head, then moved my camera setup, changing the angle to shoot B roll footage.
I’d nearly finished when Noah’s voice rang out from down the hall. “Charlotte?”
An evil smile burst on my lips as I turned off my equipment. “In here.”
As he made his approach, I glanced in the mirror, giving myself a quick check to make sure everything looked right. He appeared in the doorway but took only a single step into the room before halting.
His eyes went wide, and he stood awkwardly, like he was trying very hard to hold perfectly still. “What... are you wearing?”