To See You (24 page)

He slumped on top of me and ran the tip of his nose over mine. “God, I wanted to wait, but I guess I couldn’t. I have no willpower when it comes to us.”

Us.
That sounded so perfect.

“I’m glad we didn’t wait. That was the most fabulous welcome to LA.”

He smiled from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with tiny flecks of amber that glowed in the brown. After he ditched the condom, we spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in his bed. I almost asked if we had to leave, if we could skip meeting his friends.

But I had more willpower than that. Right?

B
elieve me, I’d have much rather stayed buried deep inside Charli, but I’d made plans to meet the guys for happy hour and I couldn’t cancel. They were ultra-curious as to who was occupying my free time, even when it was long-distance.

Peter had already texted twice that I’d better be careful or Adam was going to steal my girl. That certainly wasn’t helping my desire to go. While she took a shower, I reminded myself Charli liked me before.

I’d given her a fresh towel and left her to do her thing in my room, even though I wanted to join her. I knew if I did, it would be one more reason we didn’t make it to happy hour.

I also didn’t want to admit my experience in sharing a shower was limited to my senior year of high school and a few semesters of college. Anytime after that, I’d been hesitant to get naked under the bright bathroom lights. The bedroom was one thing but the shower was another.

Which was why I wanted to do it so badly with Charli. It seemed like the universe had good reason for limiting my experience—so the best experiences would be with her.

I heard her shoes click on the floor before I saw her. Harriette let out what seemed to be a murmur of approval, and I looked up. There Charli was in a black sundress that tied around her neck, a pair of strappy Grecian-style sandals and a shimmery silver cardigan hanging from her hand.

“Wow. You look stunning.” Her hair was down and blown into straight layers, her eyelids a smoky gray and her lips pink and shiny.

“Thank you. So do you.”

I’d quickly showered as she checked her e-mails earlier, and then changed while she was the bathroom. I felt underdressed in my faded jeans and black Coldplay tee. It was from a concert and pretty much a joke. I was trying to replicate the old me in the new me’s body, and now I felt like a fool.

“Nah.” It was too big and probably looked god-awful.

“I like the tee.” She ran her hand down my cheek. “Though I liked him better when he was married. He was lovable as a family man . . . the lead guy.”

“I should change. You look like you could be in a magazine, and I’m ready for the neighborhood watering hole.”

“Come on.” She linked her arm through mine. “I don’t want to be late.”

We walked toward the ocean, and I held open the door to Bastion’s with a knot of regret in my stomach. This wasn’t the type of place she was going to like; I just knew it. It wasn’t sophisticated or chic.

“Lay!” Peter called from a stool at the bar, and Adam turned around on the stool next to him.

“Hey, guys.”

“We’re next up at pool, so make the intros quick,” Peter said.

Charli laughed.

“Meet Peter and Adam. Guys, meet Charli.”

“Hi.”

“Girl, you really are all he bragged about. I wish I’d seen a picture. I would’ve brought my A game tonight.”

“Adam,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Kidding!”

“You have a good flight and all that?” Peter asked, then sipped at his beer. “Oh, what do you two want? First round is on me.”

“Cabernet,” Charli quickly replied.

“Beer.”

We got our drinks and everything fell into an easier rhythm. Adam and Charli discussed some racy political drama on TV, and then she got on a laughing jag with Peter over some story he told of riding a cab in New York. He claimed the driver drove around the block fifty times, and he let him, wanting to see how far he’d run up the meter. Then Peter got out and did exactly what they said to do. Called the police.

I watched from afar as Charli’s chest rose with each laugh and fell with every breath. Her hair swung around her face as she moved, drifting over her shoulder when she gestured with her hands as she talked, and she was at ease.

At some point in the evening, she leaned into my shoulder and said, “I’ve never had this much fun, never been this happy or relaxed.”

I held her close with my hand on her hip, and turned her chin with my finger to kiss her softly. “Good.”

We had another drink, a basket of wings (not twelve), veggies and hummus, and a lot more fun. That was the night.

After a few hours and a couple of rounds of pool while Charli watched, I declared, “I’m done sharing my girl.”

We said our good-nights, and when Charli kissed my friends on the cheek, I told myself
so the fuck what?
Jealousy raged inside me, but then it was me she held hands with as we left the bar.

Me she leaned into on the walk home.

Me she smiled at.

Me. Me. Me.

I was beginning to become a caveman of epic proportions.

Or a kindergartner who was jealously guarding his toy.

The weekend passed too quickly, which wasn’t a big surprise.

On Saturday, after a run and a day at the beach, sitting on a blanket just kissing and whispering, Charli rested her head in my lap, and said, “There’s something different out here. I know it’s all chic and Hollywood-ish, but it’s so natural too. I feel at ease here. There’s this organic beauty—and yes, there’s smog and honking—but the pace feels so much slower. Better.”

I’d wanted to ask her to stay here indefinitely, but I didn’t. It was too soon. We’d only just become reacquainted, but we’d been intimate in almost every way. I spent the day warring with myself, wanting to ask her but telling my brain to shut up.

We walked back to my place and tossed the ball to Harriette in the yard as we shared a glass of wine. Passing the pinot grigio back and forth, my mouth over where hers had been and vice versa, I stared at her eyes and saw my heaven.

“I’m falling for you,” I said, and she set the goblet on the table and ran her hand up my chest, stopping over my heart.

“I’m falling right back.” She rested her forehead next to her hand. “Geez, that’s so cliché for a writer, but I am. Falling, and it’s so scary. Like one of those dreams where you wake up startled, your breath gone from your lungs, and you feel like you fell down a flight of stairs.” Her lips moved against my shirt, her words vibrating against my sternum, each one finding purchase in my heart.

Falling, and it’s scary.

I ran my hand down the back of her hair, smoothing the beach-blown waves and keeping her close to me.

“I would never let you get hurt.” That’s all I said, and then I kissed her. That was enough verbal declarations for one day.

I broke free, whistled for Harriette, and grabbed Charli’s hand. We both needed a shower.

I led us to the bathroom and turned on the water before undressing her, shirt first, bra second. I paused for a lick, a nip, and a suck. Her moan filled the room, swirling with the steam pummeling from the shower.

“Want to shower?”

“I thought that was what we were going to do.” She ran her hand under my shirt and pulled it off.

We shimmied out of our pants, leaving them and our underwear in a tangled pile on the floor, and stepped under the spray. Warmth enveloped us and I leaned back against the tile, pulling her flush against me, kissing, dancing with her tongue like tomorrow’s good-bye was in a minute and this was my last chance.

She slid down my body and dropped to her knees. Her mouth covered me, licking lightly at first and then taking all of me.

As she took me deep and sucked, my head tipped back into the tile. Water continued to rain down on us as she sucked me dry, refusing to move back up until she finished.

“Oh God, Charli, the best,” I murmured when she returned to her feet. “Nothing compares to this moment.”

Her fingertips traced my arms before grabbing hold of my wrists. “We’ll see each other again soon, right? You’ll come visit me?”

“Of course.”

More kissing, some soaping, and I fell to my knees like a man in love.

Then there was some more kissing of another kind.

S
unday was like a race to touch and kiss and be together as much as we could. We took a short run and came back for Harriette, walking to get some coffee and a muffin to split. Exercise meant something different to Layton. It wasn’t about control like it was for me; it was about release. Letting go of the past and being a better person.

It was hard not to get swept up in the emotions and lose myself in the raw beauty of him. Lord knows, I’d been lost in him for two glorious days and I was a goner.

We showered when we got home—not together because we’d probably still be in the shower if we did, and afterward, Layton wanted to show me his studio.

It was the most amazing place I’d ever seen. Wood paneled with soundproof padding on two walls. A huge steel L-shaped desk, tons of audio equipment with lots and lots of buttons. He sat me on his lap and placed a set of headphones over my head.

When he flicked a switch, something hoarse and feely filled my ears. A song for lovers, lyrics that were like tears. Instruments played in the background, but it was the words that captured my attention.