Chapter 7
CHARLIE
Across the table, Charlie’s gaze was fixed on Sam, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to find something, anything, to say. In all the years he’d known her, all the years she’d been a writer, this was definitely the first time any of her research endeavors had caught him off guard like this.
Over the years, there were few topics that they hadn’t discussed, as any close friends would. However, romance had remained relatively untouched between them.
And there were certainly reasons for that, at least on his end.
“Seems a bit extreme for a romance novel,” he said, hoping for a teasing tone to mask the hint of strain in his voice.
She dramatically tossed her hands up once more. “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of options right now. But wouldn’t it be, like, any dude’s dream for a girl to have him take her out, no strings attached?”
“And if they expected sex in return for their efforts?” he asked.
She’d accuse him of being overprotective again. And he couldn’t deny it—he definitely was. But the thought of her meeting up with some stranger online to do romantic research of any kind left a bad taste in his mouth. And for more than one reason.
Her doing that kind of research with anybody caused his chest to burn uncomfortably.
Her eyes didn’t meet his. “It’s not like we’re kids anymore.
If I want to have sex, then I’ll have sex.
If not, I’ll tell them to piss off. Seems simple enough to me.
Besides, I want to focus on the romance aspect first before I even touch the sex stuff.
If I even consider that with someone… Gotta learn to crawl before I run and all that. ”
Charlie nodded thoughtfully, as any good friend would in this situation.
What she said did make sense, albeit in that unique, authorly way of hers that sometimes escaped him.
She was trying to write a novel, after all.
She always did a lot of research when she was writing anything.
That was just how she was—meticulous, methodical, leaving no stone unturned in her quest to make sure every piece of the puzzle fit together perfectly.
Though, he didn’t like that analogy for this particular novel.
She often teased him that he only read her books because they were friends, but it was only a small part of it. She never believed him whenever he told her that she was just that good. He’d devour every page of her books even if he had no idea who she was.
So, naturally, it made complete sense that she’d want to do research, to fill the blanks of her own knowledge.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, knowing her, she didn’t fully grasp the complications of what she would be getting herself into.
There was a vast difference between traveling to visit the city she was writing about, or digging through the local library’s treasure trove of historical documents, and a living, breathing man.
“Are we including psychopaths in your research, or are we hoping for a surprise?” he asked.
Her lips stretched thin at the thought. “Hadn’t thought of that.”
She let out a resigned sigh, a faint hiss escaping her lips like a balloon deflating after a lackluster birthday party.
“Then what am I gonna do, Charlie? My options are limited. I just need help figuring out romance stuff. How can I possibly create a believable love story if I’ve never even been on a proper date? ”
This woman was going to kill him.
He allowed a moment of silence to linger between them, both lost in thought.
What she needed was a friend, someone she could trust without fear of being taken advantage of. Someone who would support her through this without making her feel weird in the process, and there was only one person he trusted to do the job.
“Then let me help you.”
It was the perfect solution, to him at least. She could safely conduct whatever research she needed to without worry, and he got to spend time with his best friend.
He knew from past experience that she didn’t like him in that way, and it wasn’t exactly like he hadn’t fantasized about how he would want to romance Samantha MacMillian since the day he’d met her.
So, as long as he could muster the strength to shove his own feelings aside, it would be a walk in the park.
She blinked a few times, attempting to hide the surprise that flickered in her eyes. “What?”
“What? Wouldn’t it make more sense to hang out with someone you already know as opposed to getting to know some stranger? You said so yourself—you need someone who isn’t going to be weird about it. Who better than me?”
“Are you serious?”
He’d never been more serious about anything in his life.
He shrugged. “Why not? I’m your best friend, aren’t I? Besides Angel at least.”
“Of course you are, but that’s exactly it, you’re my best friend. Wouldn’t it be weird?” she asked.
“You already are weird,” he teased, loving the way her ensuing laugh lit up her face.
It was easy to see how much it eased the tension that had been building there all morning.
“Look, it won’t be awkward. It’d probably be a lot easier doing this with someone who knows the whole situation, who knows you, and wants to help, right?
Besides, I don’t like the idea of some guy getting a whiff of what you’re doing and taking advantage, that’s all. ”
Who else could serve as a human battering ram should the occasion call for it?
Sam nibbled on her lower lip. “I don’t know, Charlie… I could easily make you feel really uncomfortable with something like this.”
“I can assure you that there is little chaos you could cause that would make me uncomfortable. Besides, you need the experience, right? I’m available for hire.”
The light caught the flecks of gold centered around the middle of her irises as she laughed, like sunlight chasing the horizon across an endless meadow of rolling green hills. “For hire? We went from a friend helping a friend to hiring myself my own Pretty Woman?”
Charlie laughed. “I get Julia Roberts level? Wow, I’m honored.”
She pursed her lips at him, studying him for a moment. “I don’t know. I might’ve been a little generous.”
“No, no, you can’t take it back now. I’m gonna put that on my business card from now on.”
“You’re impossible. But I don’t know, Charlie, this would be a lot to ask of you. This isn’t just helping me comb through some reference textbooks. This would be… I don’t even know what to call what this would be,” she said slowly, as if searching for the correct term.
Charlie wasn’t sure of what the proper term for what they were discussing would be, but he knew of a term he knew she would find interesting. At least if her ramblings of some of the romances she’d tried to explain to him were any indication.
“Fake dating?”
“Fake dating,” she repeated, scrunching her nose as if she were trying to taste how the words sounded while she mulled it over. “Yeah, I guess it would be, essentially. We’d need to go out on dates and do couple-ish things, so I can add them to my notes, but we wouldn’t actually be dating…”
“See? It could work,” he confirmed with a smile.
She shook her head, leaning forward to lower her volume.
As she did, the smell of soft florals tickled his nose from her perfume.
“The going on dates stuff, maybe, but the more… physical aspects of dating would be something I’d have to explore to a degree as well.
And that’s the part I don’t know if you’d be comfortable with. ”
Charlie fought down the shiver that ran down his spine at the thought.
“Let’s take it one step at a time, then. See what we’re both comfortable with. The worst that happens is that you feel weird, decide to scrap the idea, and go back to the drawing board, right?”
She stared down at the table momentarily, lost in thought, before looking back up to meet his gaze. “I don’t know… I’d feel bad asking you to do all of that just for some stupid book thing of mine. It’s a lot to ask in general.”
It was almost hilarious because Charlie knew, with alarming certainty, that he would do just about anything she asked of him.
But she was stubborn, especially when it came to asking anyone for help, let alone him.
“Tell you what. I have an idea,” he proposed, leaning further forward onto the table between them. “We can make it an exchange. I help you, you help me. We both get something out of this. That way you don’t feel so bad about me helping you out.”
She raised an eyebrow but leaned in, mirroring him as he could see the curiosity pique. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“You know that charity gala my parents are throwing?”
She nodded. “Yeah, your mom mentioned it the last time I talked to her on the phone.”
“Yeah, well, as part of it, she wants me and my brothers to join the little bachelor auction that they’ll be doing.”
Sam laughed, attempting to cover it by throwing her hand over her mouth, but failed miserably. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was, but she said that if I had a date with me, she wouldn’t force me to participate.”
Sam’s face lit up. “So, if I went with you as your date…”
“Then I don’t have to be auctioned off like cattle,” Charlie finished, nodding.
She giggled and smiled. “It’s for a good cause at least?”
He frowned, lowering his voice a bit. “It is, but you know why I would prefer to just be left alone, especially for that night.”
He didn’t add more, knowing that she of all people would understand what he meant. “So,” he prompted, her softened smile promising, “what do you say?”
“When is it?”
“Three months.”
She was on the precipice of saying yes. He could see the word practically forming on her lips, but she held off. Her resolve was wearing down with each passing second. He went in for the kill, so to speak.
“Samantha MacMillian, will you fake date me?” Charlie asked, offering his hand in what he hoped was a grand-looking gesture.
She laughed, slowly reaching forward, taking his hand with hers, and shaking it. “I will.”