Charlie’s face falls and it’s shocking how I have a physical reaction to this, my stomach plummeting low.
“But I’m happy now that I didn’t say that. I’m happy that she thinks we’re together,” I rush to add.
“You are?”
“Yes, and not because I want her to be shocked or pissed off or jealous, but because I enjoy spending time with you, Charlie.”
His smile brings me a considerable wave of relief, and lust. “I enjoy spending time with you too.”
“So.” I rock my hips into him. “Can we spend more time together after this? Back at my place?”
His smile fades a little at the edges, those brackets shrinking.
“I need to know that you really want this.” He leans a little closer to tell me.
“I’m telling you, I do.”
“Because I really want you, Mina.”
His words and the soft tone they’re delivered in startle me momentarily. And then they prompt me into action.
Sliding my hands down his arms, I grip one of his palms. “Let’s go,” I say, tugging him behind me as I walk for the door.
“What, right now?” he splutters behind me.
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t we say goodbye?”
I stop and turn to look at him. “My parents have already gone.”
“But what about Aisha?”
“My sister is making me wear salmon pink on her wedding day, so she can forgive me this rudeness.”
And without waiting to hear if he replies, I continue walking to the door, pulling him behind me.
*****
I didn’t think I’d be embarrassed about my bedsit but as soon as Charlie walks in behind me, I feel unwelcomingly self-conscious. The space is clean and tidy, but still, it’s small. Really small. And it’s tired and worn out, which isn’t my fault considering I’ve only lived here a few weeks but I can’t help but wonder what Charlie thinks of it, and what it makes him think of me. I can’t help but wonder what his place looks like. Has he bought somewhere? Or does he still rent? And how much is his rent? Does he earn more than me? All these questions spiral around my mind as I close and lock the door behind me, watching sceptically as Charlie looks around.
“What a nice place,” he says, seeming genuine. “It’s so you.”
“I hope not.” I snort. “It’s falling apart and the drains smell funny when it rains heavily.”
Charlie turns to look at me as I shrug off my coat and hang it up. “I meant, it’s cosy and cute and creatively functional.”
“I am not cute,” I tell him as I quickly survey the space, looking for Deborah Harry, but she’s nowhere to be found, which isn’t unusual at this time of night.
“You are actually,” he says, his eyes roaming from my eyes down my body to my feet and back again.
I have nothing to say to that, only the sudden need to have him much closer than where he currently is, standing near the small corner kitchen at the far end of the room.
I step closer but he turns away at the same time and reaches for my kettle.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Making us a cup of tea,” he says.
