Chapter 11 #2
He chuckled. “Managing people in a technical setting is vastly different from managing my idiot older brothers. Trust me.”
She tried to stifle her laughter by covering her mouth with her free hand, but the sound bubbled out anyway.
It echoed against her palm as she struggled to contain it, as if she were afraid of disturbing the people around them.
A smile tugged at his lips as he watched her, enjoying the way her laughter was a balm to his soul.
Samantha Macmillian’s laugh was, and had always been, his favorite sound.
They’d basically fought over who would get the check when it came, but luckily for him, Sam had been distracted by the cheesecake that they got to split, so he’d managed to sneak the waiter his card before she could protest too much.
He hadn’t been necessarily surprised at how easy the date had gone, but then again, it wasn’t like they didn’t regularly spend time together already. They could sit and talk to each other for hours with ease, so that part had been easy.
But as they pulled into the parking garage back at their apartment complex, Charlie couldn’t help but feel those nerves swirling in his gut. He didn’t want this to end. It was their first outing as a fake couple, and he wanted to live in the moment, even for a few minutes longer.
There would be many more outings to come, so this wouldn’t be the last. He knew this, but he didn’t care. He wanted more time. Even if it was to admire how incredible she looked tonight, he would find any way to stretch this out.
So, when they got out of the car and started walking toward the complex, Charlie stopped and turned toward her. “You up for a walk around the block before we head up? It’s a really nice night out.”
It was the best he could come up with, but it definitely didn’t hurt that it was, in fact, an absolutely gorgeous evening.
Sam had commented on it during their drive home, and Charlie had wholeheartedly agreed.
Stars gleamed above them like diamonds strewn across a velvet sky, not a cloud in sight as the sky stretched, unhindered, for miles.
When she smiled at him and nodded, he quietly let out a sigh of relief. “Any place in particular?”
He shrugged. “Just around the block?”
“Works for me,” she said, deviating from the path and toward the nearby sidewalk.
The brisk night air kicked up a gentle breeze around them, and the usual dull roar of nearby traffic was notably absent, making the atmosphere more peaceful.
Charlie almost wanted to kick himself for not thinking of the walk earlier, where he could have taken her somewhere a bit nicer.
A bit more scenic than just outside their apartment complex.
Even just driving a bit further over to the Tobacco Trail would have worked, but he tried not to think too hard on it.
He tugged her arm until she was away from the edge of the sidewalk, instead taking his place there between her and the road.
“So,” she began as they turned the corner that led out of the garage, side by side, “what all should I prepare for with this charity event? I only have a few vague details on what to expect.”
He cleared his throat as it inevitably tightened. “Oh, you know, those two spared no expense this year setting this up.”
Sam grimaced before wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t believe they decided to do it on the anniversary this year. You doing okay?”
He shrugged, keeping his gaze forward. “I’m fine.”
He really wasn’t, but that wasn’t something he was in the mood to elaborate further on—especially with this topic. This time of year was always hard enough as it was, but having some elaborate event he had no choice but to go to certainly didn’t help things.
His guilt always felt tenfold on that day every year.
“But you know my mom is,” he continued. “Once she gets an idea stuck in her head, it’s really hard to talk her out of it.”
Sam offered a gentle shrug with a small smile. “I think it’s just her way of coping, Charlie.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure she’ll text you the details now that she knows I’m taking you as my date,” he said, trying to change the subject as quickly as he could. “But enough about that. This is a date. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about first-date kinds of things?”
Sam watched him for a moment, as if she was studying him, but thankfully accepted the topic change. “I guess you’re right. We didn’t really do much first-date kind of talk at dinner, did we?”
“I don’t think so, but now that I think about it, what kind of first-date talk do people usually do?”
She pursed her lips for a moment, rubbing a hand hastily up and down an arm. “You know, I don’t really know. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a first date—”
He felt a hint of guilt that he selfishly liked that he’d essentially had her to himself all these years, unable to keep the grin from spreading across his face.
“But,” she continued, “I think first dates are usually for people getting to know each other, and you and I already know each other really well.”
“This is true,” he said as he shrugged out of his jacket, taking it and draping it over her shoulders. She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. “Don’t even start. You’re in a dress, and it’s a bit chilly now.”
She attempted to suppress a smile but failed miserably as she leaned into him.
“Anyway,” he said as they rounded the corner, heading back toward their complex, “now that we have done our first outing, what are you thinking in relation to your book stuff?”
She smiled. “We’re heading back home. We can be done with that aspect for tonight, Charlie. You’ve done your duty, so you’re officially off the clock.”
He was tempted to ask her what if he didn’t want to be off the clock but decided against it.
“Humor me. I want to really get into the writer’s mindset here, so I can help make the most out of this,” he said, earning a laugh from her. “I did some reading myself, but I’m not exactly a writer, so I don’t know what kind of things you have planned for your book.”
After he’d gotten back from the bookstore the other night, he’d decided to download a few of the titles that she had gotten.
He still had the receipt, so it wasn’t hard to locate them on his Kindle.
He’d gone into work the next day exhausted, having chosen to stay up most of the night reading one of them, but it had been worth it.
At least he had some semblance of what she was thinking, considering she’d picked the title for her own research.
“You did your own reading?” she asked, a softness in her eyes that made his heart swell.
“I picked up a copy of one of the ones you had in your basket. I figured if I wanted to be a good fake boyfriend, I should at least have an idea on what to expect.”
“That was really sweet, Charlie. You didn’t have to do homework for this.”
There was very little he wouldn’t do for her, but he didn’t think offering that in this moment would be the wisest choice.
He shrugged, a bit more sheepishly than he intended. “I wanted to. Anyway, back to my line of questioning. When you’re writing, do you like to develop your characters before you put them onto the page? Or do they get more fleshed out the more you write?”
“Depends, I guess. For the mystery series I wrote, I had those characters fleshed out before they ever came alive on paper, but with this book, I just have an idea of the characters and am letting them guide me.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting…”
“Why?” she asked, looking amused. “Are you looking for writing tips, Charlie?”
It was his turn to laugh. “I told you, I’m trying to get into the writer mindset. Gotta be prepared for whatever you throw at me.”
She returned a nod, seemingly satisfied with his answer.
A comfortable silence slipped into place between them as they neared the complex.
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting it all in.
Enjoying that comfortable silence as it stretched between them and knowing he didn’t have to fill it awkwardly as he would if it were anyone else.
But that was just the way things were with Sam.
He felt as her hand found his in the quiet, and he tried not to let his excitement get the better of him. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they continued walking together. Their fingers laced together naturally, as if they were the perfect fit.
His hand enveloped hers, so precious and fragile in his grasp that he worried if he squeezed too hard, he’d hurt her.
It was far from the first time he’d ever held her hand, though he could clearly remember the first time as if it were yesterday.
It was right after her parents had died in that accident, and she had to move in with her aunt.
Sam often kept her emotions close to her chest, something he had tried easing out of her for as long as he could remember.
But on that day, he’d noticed in between classes that she had snuck off somewhere, so he’d gone to look for her.
The funeral had been the day before, so he’d kept a closer eye on her than normal, but when he finally found her, she was underneath the gym’s bleachers. Sitting on the floor up against the nearest wall, her legs pulled up to her chest, quietly sobbing into her knees.
Words had never been his specialty, typically opting for a smart-ass comment most of the time to make someone laugh, so instead, he’d sat down next to her.
He’d taken her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and simply sat there next to her as she continued crying.
They’d stayed there until she felt better.
Returning to the present, Charlie briefly mulled ideas over for their next date, a plan already beginning to take shape in his mind. It went a little off script from what she had mentioned before, but he was confident she would love it.
When they finally reached her apartment door only a few moments later, Sam paused to fish through her purse in search of her keys. Seemingly disappearing into oblivion into the vast void of her bag.
“So, how did I do overall?” he asked as he stood in front of her.
“Highest marks, babe,” she said, sending his heart fluttering a bit. “You are the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
He waved her off dramatically, earning a giggle. “Oh, you’re just saying that.”
“No, no, you are so far the reigning champion,” she said, finally pulling her keys out of her bag. “Well, thanks again for tonight. I had a lot of fun.”
“Good. I’m glad. What should we plan for next?”
She shrugged. “Can I get back to you on that?”
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, his eyes lowering to her lips.
The undeniable urge to kiss her was far greater than he ever expected in a moment like this.
He often had the urge to kiss her, well before they ever agreed to this, but he’d gotten quite good at restraining that.
Right now, however, it took almost everything he had not to.
Her lips were so wonderfully inviting, puckered ever so slightly from a fresh application of whatever lipstick she’d reapplied before they’d left the restaurant. Beckoning him as his vision seemed to hone in on them, the rest of the world evaporating from view.
“Are you… Are you going to kiss me?” Sam quietly asked, uncertainty and intrigue reflecting in her eyes when his gaze shot up to meet hers. His body suddenly felt as if it were on fire—in the most delightful way possible. His skin burned with a desire that roared to life.
“I was thinking about it,” he admitted honestly. “I know we agreed already, but remember that nothing happens if you don’t want it to.”
She licked her lips, her breathing a little heavier than it had been seconds prior. “I know.”
“Don’t push yourself if you’re not comfortable.” He took a small step toward her, the precious space between them feeling electric.
She shook her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper as she took the remaining step toward him until they were barely a breath apart. “I’m not.”
Their eyes were locked on one another, and despite the heat pooling in his veins, he searched for something, anything, that indicated that he shouldn’t kiss her. Any hint of hesitation or restraint and he’d back away.
But when he found none of that, instead seeing the same intensity in her eyes that he felt, he brought a hand up to rub her cheek with his thumb affectionately.
She watched him, as if she, too, were studying him, but she leaned into his touch.
As if the pull she felt were as magnetic as it was for him.
Her eyelashes fluttered shut as he lowered his face toward hers, before his lips pressed against hers.
It was soft at first, experimental. Their lips barely touched a whisper before his hand moved once more. Snaking around to hold the back of her neck and pulling her toward him even more until their bodies were flush against one another.
It was far better than anything he’d ever imagined.
His fantasies were a pale comparison to the real thing.
He hungrily deepened the kiss as he angled his lips more firmly against hers, desperately clinging to some hint of rational thinking so he didn’t throw her over his shoulder like an absolute caveman.
He knew what this kiss was, what it really meant, what it was really for, and despite the desire and want licking at his heels, by God he was going to control himself. For her sake. He would not lose her because he couldn’t keep himself in check.
He forced himself to finally pull back, giving her lips once last, soft peck. His hand was still on the nape of her neck as he watched her eyelids flutter back open. Gauging her reaction for a moment to make sure she was alright before giving her a soft smile.
“Good night, Sam,” he said, giving her a final kiss on the tip of her nose before releasing her and turning on his heel. Leaving her standing there, he made his way quickly down the hallway, turning the corner to head toward the staircase.
Damn.