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“I’m missing Dylan and he said he’d be home tonight.”
I’ve briefly met her friend once when we were at her place, and I’d like the opportunity to spend time with him. I also don’t want Charlize missing her people or her own space. “He could have dinner with us.”
Her eyes light up. “I’ll text him to see if he’s eaten yet.”
She confirms he hasn’t had dinner and that he’d like to eat with us. I order food on the way to her condo and once I’ve placed the order, she moves closer to me in the back of the car. “Thank you.”
“For ordering dinner?”
“No, for tonight. For coming to yoga with me, for having dinner with Dylan, for staying at my place. I know you’re busy with work, so I appreciate you taking the time for all this.”
“These aren’t things you thank me for doing, Charlize. These are things people do when they want to be with someone.”
“I know, and I agree, but I also think it’s important to acknowledge that I appreciate your choices. I always want you to know I’m not taking you for granted.”
What she says triggers something in my brain, but I can’t quite grasp it. It was something someone said to me recently, I think.
I let it go when she brings up the yoga class with me again. We fill the rest of the drive to her place with this conversation.
We talk about my yoga experience, her love of the classes she’s taken so far, the classes she wants to take, the yoga retreats she’s found to attend, the yoga pants she’s thinking of buying, and how great her body feels thanks to the yoga.
“You’re a fanatic after one week,” I say as we walk into her bedroom. “Is this a yoga thing or should I prepare for your fanaticism over many things?”
“Well,” she grins, “based on my fanaticism for your dick, it may be a problematic trait of mine. You should absolutely prepare yourself for this being a part of your future.”
I pull her close and kiss her. “Consider me prepared.”
She blinks. “Just like that?”
I keep my eyes firmly on hers. “Just like that.”
She stares at me. “Is this a problematic trait ofyours? Like, do you always just accept women who obsess over things, and who think about things far too much, and who talk your ear off about these things? I mean, I know you have your stalker tendencies, Owen, but maybe you might want to be more selective with who you choose to stalk.”
“I’m being extremely selective, Charlize. Trust me on that.”
She must hear something in my voice that she connects with, or perhaps it’s what I said, because she loops her hands around my neck, and says, “I would do so many inappropriate things to you right now if Dylan wasn’t about to arrive home.” She pauses before softly adding, “Also, I can’t believe I ever thought using you for sex for a year would be enough.”
She kisses me and then leaves to go into the bathroom.
I glance around her bedroom, noting the scattered clothes, the open books piled beside her bed, the make-up crowding her bureau, the shoes kicked off in random places, and the three outfits hanging in one corner.
I wouldn’t have Charlize any other way.
And if she ever thought I was only going to allow her to use me for sex for one year, she was very mistaken.
The last thing that catches my eye is the hotel key card from London sitting on her bureau.
I wasn’t aware she’d kept it.
Charlize was in deep denial over the one year of sex.
She’s been keeping memories of me since our first night together.
* * *
I arriveat the office at five a.m. the next day. I’ve come in early to run on the treadmill while going over my fund’s current positions. I’ve also come in to prepare for my meeting with Jill.
At seven-thirty, Ron walks in.
