He stood back and looked at me. His eyes were bright. I resisted the urge to melt back into him.
“I want to take you home,” he echoed, taking a deep breath. “But not like this. I want it to be different with me.”
I nodded wordlessly, feeling a swell of affection as I realized what he meant.
He reset the elevator button.
“Can I come over tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
He put his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I was struck by how strong his arms were. I reached up to kiss him one more time and told myself we’d figure the rest out later.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I woke up the next morning with my pillowcase soaked in sweat and the dress crumpled next to my bed.
My hair hurt.
The image of Charlie pulling up my dress flashed in my mind. I buried my face in the wet pillow.
My phone buzzed somewhere under the covers.
You OK this morning?
I scrolled up to read the last few texts we’d sent at 3 a.m.
Counting the minutes until tomorrow (today?),I’d texted from the cab.
You have no idea. Text me tomorrow when you want me to come over and I’ll be there.
Night .
My face was on fire rereading our texts in the cold light of Sunday morning.
I bit my lip and tried to compose a response neutral enough to see where Charlie’s head was.
I’d finally stopped thinking and let my instincts and desires take over. I had wanted Charlie. I knew it didn’t make sense. But I wanted to feel all of it again. Starting with the weight of his knee against mine.
I laid in bed and tried to process the fear and uncertainty and desire.
The intercom buzzed, and I jumped.
“One second,” I called out to no one, grabbing my robe from the bathroom and groaning at the smudged mascara looking back at me in the mirror.
I pressed the call button. “Yes?”
“Delivery from Ralph’s for Ms. Samantha,” a familiar accent from the corner deli downstairs floated back to me. Had I placed an order in my sleep? I grabbed a few dollars from my wallet while I waited for him to come up.
I set the bag on the counter and pulled out a bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll, along with greasy, oval-shaped hash browns, a large black coffee, and a note scribbled on the deli’s order pad:called in from Charlie B. for Samantha D.
I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Charlie showing up unannounced, even if so much of me wanted to see him again.
I took a picture of the food and texted it to him.
Much better now, thanks for asking.
I could see him typing immediately.
