He looked her up and down, down then up, and then fixated on her throat. He wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze a little. His dick bricked just thinking about it. What was it about this girl that made him lose his discipline?”
“You real grown, Bird,” he agreed.
“I didn’t know this party was for your company. I don’t have time for this. I would have never come,” Charlie said, shaking her head as she shifted in her stilettos and looked away from him. Charlie stormed off, heading out of the ballroom and into the hallway, anywhere that was away from him. She needed some place where she could breathe because, in his presence, she just couldn’t quite inhale, all her breaths were leaving her.
“Yo, Charlie, give me a minute; let me talk to you,” he said as he followed her. Her entire being had thrown him off. Hers was the last face he had expected to see tonight, but it couldn’t be unseen. Twenty-two days of discipline, of erasing her texts, of watching the video she had sent him again and again justto get a fix, had all been flushed down the drain at one glance. She looked beautiful, not in the overdressed, stunt on these niggas type of way that every other woman present did... but in Charlie’s way. In a, I don’t give a fuck about nobody in this bitch so I’m going to wear whatever, fuck a dress code type of way. She was fucking beautiful.
“Oh, now you want to talk? Now you got some shit to say? You been silent for weeks but all of a sudden you an orator, my nigga?” she asked, a little louder than she intended, getting stares from the stragglers that lingered in the hallway.
“Aye, clear this shit out! Get the fuck in or out!” he barked on the guests that lingered in the hallway, desperate for a moment of privacy with Charlie. His temper flared as she kept walking. He knew he had no right to be mad but hell, she was mad, so he was mad too. They were mad as fuck together, because damn if Demi didn’t just want to do everything she did, wherever she did it, however she did it. He had no business in this hallway with this damn girl, pleading for a second of her time. Demi didn’t beg anyone. People normally begged him; women, especially women, normally begged to be in his presence, normally begged for dick, for money, for trips and he always declined. He had a woman at home, a good woman, but Charlie made him weak.
“Stop following me you fucking weirdo,” Charlie spat as she pushed into the women’s bathroom, the one place he couldn’t follow. Just as she suspected, he halted. Not because he wasn’t allowed there but because his OCD wouldn’t let him take another step. Public bathrooms disgusted him.
He had a feeling she knew that. It enraged him. Charlie and her fucking boldness, her disregard for his rules. He wanted to kick the damn door in but instead, he backpedaled to the bench across from the door and sat. He wanted to walk away, but he had pictured her in his mind too many times over the past fewweeks to let her get away. This couldn’t be a coincidence that they had crossed paths again.
When 15 minutes passed, he knew she was stalling him out. He pulled out his phone and sent her a text because while he had deleted the number, his obsession with her had committed it to memory. Self-preservation. It had to be. He knew he would need that number one day because no way should he know it, but his brain wouldn’t let him forget.
DEMI
Bring your shitty-ass out the bathroom.
CHARLIE
Bring your weird-ass in the bathroom.
He put his phone in his back pocket and grit his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He stood and walked into the bathroom, suffocating instantly. The banging of the door as it hit the wall startled Charlie as he crossed the room, pressing her back to the wall and bracing both hands around her body as he bowed his head. A struggle. Demi was having a mental battle. Against the fucking germs he was sure was in the air and now all over him, against his conscience, against the mental battle he desperately wanted to win against Charlie.
“You playing with me, Bird,” he said.
“The way you played with me?” she asked. “Get the fuck away from me, Demi. We don’t have shit to say to each other.”
Charlie tried to push by him, but he wasn’t budging.
“Move, Demi, before I scream,” she warned.
“If you were going to scream, you would have done that by now,” he said.
Charlie was so annoyed that she did the only thing she could think of. She mushed him, rubbing her hands all in his face like she was smashing a snowball. Demi lost control, wrapping onehand around her neck, and hemming her up. His face felt like battery acid had been poured all over it.
“You done lost your fucking mind,” he said sternly. His hold on her tightened as his nostrils flared and he stared into her eyes. Without warning, he let go, storming out of the restroom and leaving Charlie inside with tears in her eyes.
Chapter 9
It took Charlie half an hour to gather herself and even as she emerged from the bathroom her hands shook a little. Men who got physical with women terrified her and Demi had done more than a little yoking up. She could sense his danger. He was a live wire, one that would electrocute her if she touched it, and he both terrified and enthralled her. She opened the door to the ballroom of the hotel and searched the room for Stassi. She wouldn’t ruin her night. Her sister had worked hard for this. Pulling it off meant more business in the future; so although Charlie was over it and ready to leave, she couldn’t bail. She found Stassi in a booth, tucked away with Day whispering in her ear. Charlie made her way across the room. She slid in next to her sister, plastering on a fake smile.
“You okay?” Stassi asked, leaning over to whisper.
Charlie nodded.
“They’re about to start a showcase,” Stassi informed.
“A music showcase?” Charlie asked.
“Introducing the new artists we signed to the rest of the company,” Day said.
“You know Charlie sings...” Stassi said.
“Is that right?” Day asked.
