It had been like that a decade ago, when they’d been sleeping together.
Charlotte hadn’t been the one to suggest they have sex in the first place all those years ago; it had been Sutton who had shown up at Charlotte’s home, suggesting they sleep together.
It hadn’t been Charlotte who suggested they become friends with benefits in the first place; that had been Sutton, when she’d realized that Charlotte desired her in the same way Sutton wantedher.
And even though Charlotte had been the one to initiate this development in the form of that kiss, it was Sutton who had been haunted by it all week and had been behaving… abnormally.
Charlotte might have initiated a kiss, but she’d behaved like a normal human being after.
Shehadn’t come to Sutton’s office unprompted and fucked Sutton againstherdesk. Nope, she hadn’t done that at all. It was beyond one of Sutton’s wildest fantasies…
Anyway.
Sutton just needed to face this, apologize, and move on from it like an adult. And that’s what she was going to do.
Still, her nerves fluttered in her stomach as she heard footsteps approach from the other side of the door.
And as the door was pulled open, she nearly swallowed her tongue, tangling her fingers in front of her tightly.
There was something incredibly, completely entrancing about Charlotte in her work clothes. The fitted slacks, the silk shirts, the blazers, the dresses. All of these classy, polished ensembles spoke to who she was, all she’d accomplished, her status, her power, and they did, admittedly, drive Sutton a little crazy.
But Charlotte at-home was different.
This moment was a stark reminder that Sutton hadn’t seen this side of Charlotte since they’d reconnected.
Charlotte was wearing a comfortable-looking, blue Yale sweatshirt and gray cotton shorts, with all her long, wavy, brown hair tossed into a bun. It had clearly been done up hours ago, as tendrils were now falling out.
This Charlotte did something entirely different to Sutton.
It fused with the images Sutton still had in the recesses of her brain, from the nights she would hang out with Charlotte in her apartment after work, when Charlotte would immediately change into comfy clothing.
This was what Sutton had always felt was not exactly therealCharlotte, because Charlotte at work? There was nothing more real than that, honestly. Sutton knew all too well how highly her career ranked on her list of priorities, but this at-home Charlotte was the one not many people were able to see—the vulnerable, soft, even sweet Charlotte—and being faced with her once again tripped Sutton up for a second.
God, she looked good.
“Sutton.” Charlotte’s surprise was palpable in the way she said her name, in the way her big doe eyes widened and took Sutton in. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi.” She had to clear her throat again. She tugged at her sweater before brushing her palms down her jeans. “I just— I was wondering if we could… ifIcould talk, about yesterday? Please?”
Both of Charlotte’s eyebrows lifted as she took in Sutton’s request, nodding slowly as she opened the door wider in invitation, a smile gracing her soft, pink lips. “Whatever you’d like. Why don’t you come in?”
Well, that was easy. Step one already done…
“Come on, I’ll take you into the sunroom off the kitchen. I think you’ll like it.” Charlotte tilted her head as she shut the door and started walking down the hallway.
Sutton could only stare around the townhouse. The floors were all beautifully polished hardwood, with large, open archways between many of the rooms. The living room they passed, the den, the dining room… she stared into them all, unable to curb her curiosity.
They were all, unsurprisingly, impeccably decorated with artwork and plants. She would bet anything Charlotte tended to the plants herself.
“Do you live here alone?” she couldn’t help but ask as they walked through the rooms and she peered in at vaulted ceilings and, well, more space than Sutton could ever imagine living in even with Lucy, let alone by herself. She’dneverlived by herself, and she didn’t think she would enjoy it.
First she’d lived with her family, then with a roommate in college, then Regan, then Layla, and now Lucy. She found herself without Lucy for only two nights a week, and those were the times she had to keep herself busiest.
Charlotte shot her an amused look over her shoulder, mesmerizing waves of dark hair shifting over her shoulder. “As the woman writing my biography, what do you think?”
“Ha, ha,” she mock-laughed, even as she inwardly rolled her eyes at herself. Right. Of course, Charlotte lived here alone. Who else would be here? Sutton knew damn well Charlotte didn’t have a partner.
Then again—her stomach twisted—she didn’t know much about Charlotte’s personal or romantic life. She knew she’d publicly come out, of course, but there was nothing else about her romantic pursuits discussed in the public eye. And it hadn’t been a topic they’d delved into… yet.
