Chapter 22 #2
Then I open the drawer of my nightstand and hand him my journal.
“This is the diary I kept in high school,” I explain while the notebook’s still closed on his lap. “Writing felt like a chore because of my dyslexia, so I drew instead. Take a look.”
Charlie examines the first page and smiles. But while looking at the next two, his forehead crinkles. And halfway through, he’s stunned. Finally, he turns to me wide-eyed and says, “This is us.”
“I can’t explain it either,” I say with a shrug. “But this can’t be a coincidence, right? Do you really think we’re…”
I don’t know how to finish my thought without sounding like I’ve watched one too many romantic comedies.
“Meant to be?” Charlie offers.
I nod.
He moves my journal to the nightstand, then leans me back onto the bed and shifts on top of me. “Fuck yeah, I do.”
Beaming, I take him in my arms and, for the briefest moment, reflect on the three little words I’m about to say—and how very long it’s been since I’ve uttered them to a man. And how much more significant they feel, now that I’m saying them to my soulmate.
“I love you, Charlie,” I whisper, my heart beating wildly against his.
“I love you so much, Jenna.” His lips brush mine over and over again, and I can’t stop smiling.
“How much?” I tease, wrapping my legs around him .
His lip quirks. “You want me to show you…don’t you.”
I nod, desire flushing my skin as Charlie takes off every stitch of my clothing and makes his way down to kiss between my thighs. He works his tongue expertly, switching up the pressure and intensity and driving me absolutely batshit crazy, in the best possible way.
“Don’t come yet,” he tells me when my breaths start getting shorter and faster.
“Why not?” I ask, barely able to stop myself from unraveling.
“Because I love the way you taste,” he says.
He slows his tongue and savors me, keeping me on the verge of orgasm for so long that by the time he lets me climax, it’s so goddamn intense, I’m seeing stars.
“So that’s how much you love me, huh,” I say afterward, when he’s lying beside me.
He shakes his head. “No…I’m only getting started.”
What happens between us next is otherworldly . Knowing how we feel about each other—believing wholeheartedly that we belong together—takes the sex to a level I didn’t realize existed.
Because it’s not just pleasure we’re experiencing. It’s pure, unadulterated joy.
In between sighs and moans, we whisper I love you , and smile, and kiss, and interlace our fingers, and marvel at how perfectly we fit together. Nothing has ever felt this right, and my body relaxes to let Charlie deeper inside me than ever before.
And when I come, it isn’t only in my core—it’s everywhere. A full-body orgasm that I thought was only a myth until now.
My climax is so intense that, when it’s done, I collapse onto the bed next to my boyfriend and start giggling uncontrollably. Before I know it, there are tears streaming down my cheeks, but I feel absolutely euphoric.
Charlie brushes the hair off my face and kisses my tears. “If you weren’t smiling so wide, I’d be worried.”
“I have no idea what just happened,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve never had an orgasm like that in my life. It was so powerful—like my entire body was coming.”
My soulmate grins. “I was aiming for your G-spot. I guess it’s safe to say I found it.”
“Oh my god,” I gasp. “Is that what that was?”
Charlie, being the highly skilled sex god he is, laughs at me. “You’re adorable.”
I giggle again and pull him close. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
We’re up early the next morning because Charlie has to go into the office. While we’re sipping coffee in bed and he’s checking work messages on his phone, I get a new notification on mine. It’s an email from Vanessa, who’s in Barcelona, on the Spanish leg of her European tour.
Having the best time, but I miss you. Keep thinking of you whenever I walk into an art museum. I bet your work will be on display one day! And Tati Marie can say she discovered you, lol. Wish you were here! Can’t wait to catch up when I get back. How’s it going with Charlie?
Smiling, I hit reply:
I’m so glad you’re having a great trip! I wish I were there, too. Although I did just have the best night of my life with Charlie. I can’t wait to fill you in soon. XOXO
The fact that Vanessa’s been thinking of me during her vacation makes my heart swell. Our friendship already feels closer than any other I’ve had, and I’m so grateful.
My phone chimes again, this time with a photo of Vanessa sitting on the serpentine bench at Park Guell.
I recognize the famous monument, with its bright, multicolored mosaics, from studying the architect, Gaudi, in grad school.
The view from the park is stunning, and I can’t help but fantasize about Charlie and I going there together one day. I let out a dreamy sigh.
“What’s up?” Charlie asks, turning to smile at me.
“My friend just emailed me from Barcelona,” I explain. “It looks so pretty. Have you ever been?”
“No…but I’ve always wanted to. It’s a travel photographer’s dream.” Charlie’s forehead creases the slightest bit.
I wonder if he had the opportunity to go, but turned it down because of work. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
“Which friend is this?” Charlie asks.
“She’s the one who found my therapist for me. She’s so supportive, and?—”
Charlie’s phone dings, and he looks down at the screen. “Oh, man,” he sighs.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry to interrupt you. It’s my buddy Rob—the travel journalist. He just messaged me and said his publisher wants to see my photography before they extend a formal offer. But I haven’t updated my portfolio in forever.”
“When do they need it?”
“As soon as possible.” Charlie exhales. “I have an album of more recent shots, but I’m not sure which ones to choose. Want to help me take a look? I could use your artistic expertise.”
“Of course,” I say, eager to see Charlie’s work.
He hands me his phone, and my heart skips a beat the moment I lay eyes on the first photograph.
It’s of a sunlit cobblestone path leading to a sparkling turquoise ocean.
I can practically smell the salty sea air.
And the photos that follow are just as beautiful.
Snow-capped mountains against gray sky. Rain puddles on the street reflecting wispy clouds overhead.
A row of little houses painted in dreamy pastels.
Every now and then, there’s a portrait. A photograph of an old woman in a headscarf looking out into the distance. A child playing with seashells on the beach. A man holding a lit cigarette, smoke coiled in the air like a snake.
And then, I see a familiar face.
A woman I know well—or thought I did.
My heart lurches. My hands are shaking.
There’s nothing indecent about the picture. She’s just sitting in the grass and smiling .
But the sultry way she’s looking at the camera tells me she’s no stranger to the man behind the lens. And judging by the looks of her, the photograph was taken relatively recently.
I gasp.
“Jenna, what’s wrong?”
My mind is racing. Trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together. Praying they don’t fit.
There has to be some other explanation.
“Jenna?” my boyfriend says again when I drop his phone onto my tangled bedsheets.
I look up at his beautiful, loving face. His eyes are laced with worry, waiting for me to answer him.
But my heart is racing. And my mouth is dry. By the time I finally say something, my voice comes out thin and shaky.
“Charlie…how do you know Vanessa?”