“What do you mean?” I ask, coming to stand, my arms crossed.
“You don’t have to be so cold after…” He gestures to the bed with both arms. “After what we did.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you expect me to snuggle up with you and make you pancakes in the morning?”
“I mean that does sound very pleasant actually, but no, I just didn’t expect you to kick me out immediately after. I thought… Fuck. I just… I was hoping to stay the night,” he says to the floor.
His tiny, shy confession hits me like a freight train.
“You were?”
“Yes,” he says and the exasperation is back in his voice. “I mean, why wouldn’t I? We just had some amazing sex. I like hanging out with you. You have a nice warm bedandthe coolest cat I’ve ever met.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling more than a little bit stupid.
“What did you think I was thinking? That I was about to propose? That I was planning on taking you to meet my mother tomorrow?”
“I’ve met your mother. It was an overrated experience.” I deadpan.
“Ssh. That’s your future mother-in-law you’re talking about,” he says with a teasing grin.
“Oh, fuck off, Charlie,” I say but I’m smiling too. I’m also a lot less tense.
“But listen,” he pushes off the countertop, “if you want me to go, that’s fair enough. I’ll go.”
“It’s not that.” I find myself protesting. “I just want to get ready for the pitch tomorrow, I’ve had this medium-level headache all evening, and I’m tired so…”
I trail off because my reasons now all sound very weak.
Charlie studies me for a few seconds before replying.
“How about this?” He steps closer to me. “We go to bed now and in the morning, I will make you pancakes – gluten-free of course – and then we will go to my place where you can have a nice long hot shower while I take Goldie for a walk and after that we will work on the pitch together.”
“Are you serious? That’s a lot of time together!” I scoff.
“Oh, you’re bored of me already?” He arches an eyebrow.
I open my mouth to agree but I suddenly realise that would be a lie. I’m not bored of Charlie. I’m aggravated by the effect he has on me. I’m frustrated that he called me out the way he just did. But I’m also impressed he managed to do that without me shutting down completely, and rightly or wrongly, I’m flattered that he wants to spend that much time with me.
I’m also practically salivating at the idea of a warm shower.
“Fine,” I say grumpily, but it apparently makes Charlie smile.
“Good. Now go get ready for bed. I’ll wash up,” he says as he closes the distance between us and kisses me lightly on my forehead.
I do as he suggests, but not immediately. Because I need a moment. A moment to try and understand why after all the things we did together, me fucking him so hard it made me sweat, and him burying his face in my pussy for the second time, why is it that that gentle forehead kiss makes me feel like a part of me is melting deep, deep inside.
Chapter Twenty
Be
Charlie
It’s been quite an educational morning. I’ve learnt that Mina sleeps with her lips slightly parted, the lightest snores in the world purring in and out of her mouth. I’ve learnt that her bed sheets smell like her, like roses and fresh air. I’ve learnt that her cat, Deborah Harry, likes to sleep at the foot of her bed and my fear of kicking her was why it took me so long to fall asleep last night. (It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact I couldn’t stop myself watching Mina’s chest rise and fall in the room’s dull light.) I’ve learnt that Mina’s neighbourhood is sleepy and quiet on a Sunday morning, and that her local supermarket stocks high-quality maple syrup and gluten-free flour. I’ve learnt that Mina really struggles to have somebody do something nice for her, like fill her fruit bowl and replace the oat milk I wasted last night. I’ve also learnt that gluten-free pancakes are a damn sight harder to make than the wheat flour version. But then I learnt that Mina is more than capable of fixing my mistakes and in no time at all, we’re sitting at her table again but this time with a stack of fluffy pancakes on plates in front of us.
“Thank you for saving the day,” I say.
“You went and got all the ingredients,” she says with a one-shoulder shrug. “Least I could do was save you from making a complete tit out of yourself trying to cook with flour it took me years to get used to.”
