Chapter 23 Charlie
charlie
“I, uh, um—” I couldn’t form words as I watched Austin drop his hockey gear in the front room of the house.
He looked down at it, then back up to me. “Sorry. I’ll pick it up and put it away.”
I reached out to stop him. “No. That’s not—” Fuck. Why wasn’t my brain working at a normal speed? I took a deep breath. “That’s not it. It’s fine there.”
I turned toward the kitchen, and my stomach grumbled. Austin looked at me and laughed. He was wearing a pair of gray sweats and a plain black T-shirt that fit snugly around his chest. If he walked in front of me, then I’d see the outline of his cock move again.
“I’m going to get something to eat.” I scurried into the kitchen and pulled out the vegetables I’d gotten from the farmers’ market.
When I grabbed a carrot, I realized how absolutely phallic it looked now and groaned loudly.
Austin’s hand snaked around my waist, and he spun me around. My back was to the cold fridge as he slid something in my mouth.
“Wha—?” I couldn’t process what was in my mouth until I bit down, trusting whatever it was to be edible.
“These are fucking amazing,” Austin groaned and took a bite of the cookies I’d finished baking this morning.
“Mhmm,” I murmured.
They were fucking good and only made me realize how hungry I was.
“Did you like seeing me on the ice?”
Agh. No. Run away.
I turned around, grabbed the ranch, and walked around Austin, intentionally steering clear of him. Nothing good happened when it was dark outside, which meant I had to avoid him.
As I washed the carrot, Austin handed me the knife, and I looked up at him. Mistake number one.
“I, uh—” His eyes were so blue and full of mystery. “I loved watching you on the ice. You’re a natural.”
“It’s because you gave me a good-luck kiss.”
I flicked the leafy stem of the carrot in his direction. “Thanks, by the way, for that. We’ll be on social media soon, and I’m going to have to call my mom tomorrow and let her know about us.”
“I thought you did that today?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “Too nervous.”
“I told you I’d be there if you wanted.”
I picked at the carrot leaves. “No, it’s okay.
I appreciate it, but it’s something I should do.
After work tomorrow, I’ll give them a call.
I also have a meeting with HR during my planning period to confirm that, since we’re married, you’ll be added to my health insurance plan.
I’ve got an IEP scheduled right after, so I’ll probably end up eating during recess. ”
“You’re missing lunch . . . for me?”
I shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’m a teacher—I usually shove my face full of food in twenty seconds anyway.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
I chuckled. “It’s fine, really. ”
I grabbed some carrots and a bowl from one of the cabinets and added ranch to it before I pulled out a stool from the island. “Your mom’s friend Emma didn’t seem like she liked me all that much.”
“She’s protective of me. She’s unsure of everything after what happened with Nova .”
“Ah,” I said. Hearing his ex’s name, I closed my eyes and remembered what Stassi had told me about making sure that my cup was full too.
“I’m jealous.” I shoved a carrot in my mouth, and the only sound was me awkwardly trying to quietly crunch it.
“Of . . . Nova?” Austin turned toward me, or at least I thought he did, but I refused to turn my head in his direction.
“Yup,” I said, popping the p.
“Okay,” Austin said on an exhale. “Wanna talk it through?”
I shrugged as I aggressively grabbed another carrot and stabbed it into the ranch.
“Okay.” He pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down.
I sighed, leaning in my chair. “It goes back to what I said earlier. There’s so much about you I don’t know, and you’re my husband. I felt like an idiot when Stassi had to explain what position you used to play in hockey. That’s the kind of stuff I want to know.”
A smirk tugged at his lips as he reached over and grabbed a cookie. “I feel the same way about you.”
“It feels like we skipped so many steps. We went from a date to being fake married, and now we’re trying to be friends on top of it all.
But there’s so much heavy stuff between us, like we’re stuck in quicksand.
And honestly, I miss the lightness—like when you ran into the ocean after me because you thought I was drowning.
That’s the kind of fun I want us to have. ”
“I agree,” he said softly, his hand finding its way to my lower back and rubbing slow circles.
“And then we complicated everything with . . . last night. I’m jealous, okay?
I’m jealous you were married before. I’m jealous that everyone else seems to know more about you than I do.
” My voice cracked slightly, and I hated how vulnerable I sounded, but it was the truth.
“I want to catch up to the version of you everyone else already knows.”
A long pause stretched between us.
“I can see how that would be hard.” He grabbed the legs of my stool and moved me so we were facing each other.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I whispered.
“My name is Austin Grant Hart. I was born in a small town in Michigan. I became the youngest draft pick in the NHL when I was barely eighteen. My favorite color is red. I’ve been married and divorced once.
I’m an alcoholic and a drug addict, and I’ve been sober for almost five years.
I screwed up a lot when I was younger.” He leaned in, so close that his lips hovered above mine, the warmth of his breath brushing my skin.
“And for what it’s worth, no one’s ever cared enough to want to know me this deeply—or been jealous of the people who do. ”
“I care,” I whispered.
His eyes scanned my face, looking me up and down, and he pulled away slightly. “I also want to kiss you right now. In the privacy of our house. Where no one is watching.”
There was a weight to his words, unspoken but unmistakable. He wanted to kiss me—not for show, not for anyone else, but simply because he wanted to. Just me and him, no cameras, no audience.
“Just like how I tasted you last night, Char. Alone. Here.”
“I—We shouldn’t,”
“That’s the smart choice,” he agreed, and for a fleeting moment, my heart sank.
The space between us felt unbearable.
I closed my eyes, gathering my thoughts, then opened them slowly.
“My name is Charlotte Lilly-Belle Astor. I was born in a small town in Georgia, where my mom believed I’d spend my entire life.
My dad died when I was young. The only family member I’m still close to is my brother, which is why I didn’t call him today—because I’m terrified of disappointing him.
I hate the color gray. I love my job. And I’ve never been in love. ”
“We’re going to talk about the fact that your middle name is—”
I laughed. “Something my mother named me. It’s sweet and Southern.”
“How did your dad . . . pass?”
“He was sick. My parents hid it from Jacob and me for a long time, but then one day, he went to sleep, and the next morning, he never woke up.”
“And that’s when your mom was strict on you?”
“Jacob then took on the role of the head of the house, so to speak. My dad never pressured any of us to get into the business, but when he passed, my mom took it upon herself to thrust us into what she expected our ‘roles’ to be. I think she always had expectations, but it was worse after he died—like she didn’t know where to put her energy, so she channeled all that directionless control into us. ”
“I’m sorry.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a family member, per se, but I know what it feels like to be thrust into a role you don’t want.”
“Thank you.” I leaned in, gently cupping Austin’s face, drawing him closer.
“I loved watching you play hockey today. I loved seeing how passionate you are about something that means so much to you. I love that you’re working on yourself, that you’re trying to be a better person, not to please everyone else but for you.
I love everything about how hard you’ve fought to become who you are now. ”
I hesitated. “I love that you don’t give up.”
He nodded, his gaze steady. “Thank you.”
He lifted his hands to cover mine, holding them against his face.
The tension between us thickened, an electric current that buzzed beneath my skin.
His gaze flicked down to my lips, and I was certain he was going to close the distance.
My pulse pounded in my ears, and I found myself leaning in the slightest bit.
His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, the smallest, simplest gesture.
“Char,” he murmured.
It wasn’t a question, but a plea, a statement, a need wrapped in a single syllable.
And that’s when I knew.
I couldn’t do it. Not here. Not when we were finally building something real, something fragile and important. I wasn’t going to risk shattering it, not for him and not for me. I needed this foundation to be solid, not blurred by a moment of passion we couldn’t take back.
I shot up abruptly, nearly knocking the stool over in the process. “Oh, well,” I said, a little too loudly, clapping my hands together as if to break the spell. “Time for bed.”
I yawned for effect, but Austin sat there, blinking. “Right.”
“Big day tomorrow. I have work, then I have to call my family,” I chirped as I headed toward the stairs. “Lots of sleeping to do.” My cheeks burned as I avoided his gaze.
I turned on my heel and took the stairs to my bedroom before I could second-guess myself. My heart was still racing. My body was shaking with need. I knew I’d made the right choice. If we were going to have something real, we needed to take our time. For him. For me. For us.