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As I walk up the sidewalk, I shake my hands and blow out a breath. I don’t know why I’m nervous. This could go perfectly right or terribly wrong, which would make any red-blooded male anxious, I suppose. But I know that if I don’t ambush Charlotte like this, she’s going to keep avoiding me.
When I arrive at the entrance to Frankie’s Diner, I see the place is packed, so there’s no other option but to go inside to scope her out. I open the door and step through, greeted with the nostalgic look that most diners from the 1950s have—teal booths, black and white checkered flooring, chrome details, and pops of red here and there. But as my eyes scope out the place, realizing I’ve never been here, I instantly smile when I see Charlotte and her friends seated at a table in the back of the restaurant, entranced in a conversation.
Well, guess who’s here to crank things up a notch? This guy.
Walking toward them, all I have is a view of the back of Charlotte’s head. But her friend Amelia notices me, indicated by the way her eyes bug out of her head as I close in on their table. And when I arrive, standing right behind Charlotte, everyone’s eyes move to me except for hers.
“Good morning, ladies.” Charlotte tenses visibly before my eyes before slowly twisting in her seat to look up at me. “Charlotte.”
“Uh, Damien?”
“Is that a question, like you’re not sure that it’s me? Or are you just surprised that I’m here?”
“Oh, I don’t think she forgot who you are, not after Friday night,” Penelope interjects as Charlotte chokes on air.
I gently pat her back while grabbing an empty seat from a nearby table and pulling it up to join them. “Were you talking about me, sweet pea?” I ask as I take my seat.
“No, but we were just revisiting your claim to her in the club the other night,” Noelle answers. “It was quite the show. And Charlotte didn’t seem to mind your tongue down her throat one little bit.”
“Ah. Well, I can’t have men going around thinking they can touch my girlfriend like that.”
“Fake girlfriend,” Charlotte finally manages to croak out as she reaches for her mimosa and takes a sip to quench her dry throat. When she’s finished, she directs her gaze to me, ignoring her friends. “What are you doing here, Damien?”
“Well, I came to see you since it seems you’ve forgotten how to return a text message or phone call.”
“You’ve been ghosting him?” Amelia asks, fully concerned. “Charlotte…” She shakes her head in disappointment at her friend.
“I know, Amelia, right? I mean, I save her from that idiot, give her a kiss that I know she’s still thinking about ‘cause I definitely am, and then we fool around in a storage room and she runs away, telling me she’s going to call me, but never does.” I shrug, but inside I’m fucking cackling at the look on Charlotte’s face right now as I divulge vague details from our night to her friends. I’ll save the specifics for myself. “What’s a guy supposed to do?”
“What happened in the storage room?” Penelope asks, leaning across the table as she waits for me to respond.
“Well…”
“Nothing,” Charlotte spits out, slapping her hand on my thigh.
“Oh, it wasn’t nothing, ladies,” I say out of the corner of my mouth, and they all giggle.
“Good for you two,” Noelle adds.
“I have a question,” Amelia chimes in again with her hand in the air.
“Yes, Amelia.”
“Damien, we all know that this thing between you and Charlotte started out as a deal so you could both get ahead in work and she could pacify her mother, but I think we all want to know, especially after Friday night…” She looks around the table. “What the hell is going on with you two?”
“Yes. Charlotte is all over the place and won’t give us clear answers,” Noelle says.
Charlotte’s head spins toward her friend. “Noelle!”
“I mean, I’ve been betting since the beginning that you two were bound to end up fucking at some point, but Charlotte assures me it’s not like that,” Penelope declares.
“Really?”
“Alright, that is enough.” Charlotte stands and grabs my hand. “Damien, let’s talk outside.”
“Wait.” Noelle stands as Amelia and Penelope join her. “All jokes aside, you guys…Damien,” she says, turning to me. “You’d better not hurt our friend. Whatever is going on between the two of you, figure it out and be sure about your intentions. Charlotte is a catch, and she doesn’t deserve to be strung along or played around with, no matter how much we love giving her shit.” I nod in understanding. “And rest assured, if you do hurt her, we will hunt you down, slice off your balls and penis, turn them into ground meat, and then feed it to you.”
My stomach churns as I dance my sight across all three of the other women who I thought for sure were on my team just a moment ago. But then I realize, they’ll always be team Charlotte, and that’s how it should be. Women supporting women. Fuck, I wish more women would understand that.
“I understand, ladies. And believe me, I want to know what’s going on here just as much as you do. I just need Charlotte to talk to me.”
“Outside. Now.” I wave goodbye to the girls as Charlotte drags me by the hand to the front entrance and then around the corner to a narrow alley between the restaurant and the next building over. “Damien? What the actual fuck?”
“Well, hello to you too.”
“No. Don’t try to be all coy with me.” She shakes a finger at me. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Why am I here? Because you never called like you said you would, and you won’t answer my calls and texts. What the fuck was I supposed to do, Charlotte?”
“God, what do you want, Damien?”
“I want to talk to you…about what happened the other night.”
“Fine. Let’s talk,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why did you run away?” I ask, not wasting any more time.
“Because I had just come on your tongue and I ditched my friends and needed to get back to them.”
“Was your orgasm not satisfactory enough?”
“No. It was freaking amazing, Damien. But that’s what we agreed to before it happened—that it was just an orgasm.”
“Well, what if I want more?” I take a step toward her as her back hits the wall behind her.
“Why are you doing this, Damien?” Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath.
I run a finger down her cheek and then tug on her bottom lip with my thumb. Fuck if I know what the hell I’m doing, but all I know is that needing to have more of Charlotte feels a lot like the need to breathe right now. “Why are you fighting it, Char?”
Her eyes pop open. “Because it’s us, and it’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be. We’re already in a fake relationship, so why not enjoy the benefits of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean orgasms, sweet pea, and lots of them. And maybe…a date, or two?” Perhaps if I make it seem like not that big of a deal, she’ll agree. I just want to see her, talk to her, be around her as much as I can right now. And I don’t exactly know why, but I don’t need all of the answers at this moment. I just need her to say yes.
“Orgasms and dates?”
