Wow, that was more honest than I had intended.
“Sure, some guys, I suppose,” he replies, never taking his eyes off of me. I can tell he is debating asking me about the relationship part of my spiel, but he plays nice and follows my rules instead. “Tell me about this friend who has dressed you up in the devil's clothes that can also calm your chaos?”
Smiling, I relax into the cushions, thankful that we won’t be talking about my one-night stand escapades any further. “That’s easy. She has been my best friend since we were kids. She once gave a girl a swirly for spreading lies about me to the basketball team. That’s just her though, she never let anyone mess with me. I’ve always been the odd man out, but she never once made me feel that way, even though she could have easily dumped me for the cool crowd as we got older. She’s my family.”
Charlie looks lost in thought, but he is smiling, and for once, I don’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter.
Never taking his eyes off of mine, he takes a deep gulp of his drink. “My family is chosen too,” he says cryptically, but since he agreed to my rules, I don’t push for more information.
“Why don’t you want to be here?” I blurt.
I watch as a lazy smirk covers his handsome face, “There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be than right here, with you, Angel.”
“But i-it was you on the elevator, right? You told me you didn’t want to be here either, how come?” I watch as something dark crosses his face and I feel myself recoil slightly. “There is an energy around him I can’t figure out. I don’t feel like he is dangerous, but there is a darkness to him.”
He shifts, visibly uncomfortable, and I wonder what’s bothering him.
“You truly have no filter when you’re uncomfortable, do you?” he asks, making me scrunch my nose in confusion. “You just told me I’m not dangerous, but there is a darkness to me,” he says almost sadly.
Pinching the inside of my thigh, I attempt to have some self-control. “Do you? Have a darkness?” I ask.
Squeezing my inner ankle, he shakes his head, “Not by nature, no.”
Again, he answers evasively.
“I thought we were playing by some rules here tonight, Angel? Have you forgotten so easily?” he asks, trying to ease the tension that settled around our table.
“Ah, the one-night standards you mean. It’s a song you know?” I question him.
“Angel, I’m a Southern boy. Don’t let this forced boarding school vocal training fool you, I am a country boy through and through. If I didn’t know an Ashely McBryde song, I’d have to turn in my Southerner card,” he tells me, winking.
Just like that, he has me relaxing into the booth cushions again.
“You never answered me, why don’t you want to be here?” I ask him again.
“Well, at first I didn’t want to be here because it’s work and not the kind of work I’d like to be doing. But now, my opinion has changed because there is an entirely new reason to love coming to work this week,” he says while signaling for the waiter.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“Could I have some bottles of water and a charcuterie board? I’ll also have another Macallan. Angel?” he says, directing the waiter to me.
“Oh, no, I’m all set, but thank you. Another drink and I’ll be on the bar dancing like a freshman in college.” I slap a hand over my mouth because even I know I just said that out loud.
Blushing, the waiter quickly retreats, and Charlie falls victim to a full-on belly laugh.
Finally, composing himself, he wipes a tear from his eye and puts his full attention on me. “As much as I would love to see you dancing on the bar top, your dress is far too short, and I'm too much of a selfish asshole to let that happen. If anyone sees those lacy pink panties your friend mentioned earlier, I want it to be me,” he growls.
In an instant, the mood has shifted again.
“Actually, because of this damn dress, I wasn’t able to wear any panties,” I say, shrugging as if it is no big deal that I just told a virtual stranger I’m going commando.
Charlie moves so fast I don’t even have time to squeal. He has pulled me even closer, so I am now sitting right up against his side. My feet that were in his lap now dangle between his legs. My dress has ridden up on my slide across the bench and he notices. Gently grabbing the hem, he pulls it down slightly. Not too much, but enough that I’m not giving any X-rated shows.
My breathing is rapid, the chaos is coming.
Placing a hand on my thigh, Charlie says, “Calm down, Angel. Relax.”
“Shockingly, I do.”
“I know,” he tells me, chuckling.
Motherfucking inner dialogue.
His arm that was resting on the back of the booth wraps securely around my shoulders. From this angle, I have no options but to lean into him as they deliver the charcuterie board.
“Tell me, Angel, what does your one-night stand look like?” he asks.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean, tell me how you envision your first one-night stand to go?” he whispers into my ear.
A nervous giggle escapes me, “Oh, I hadn’t really thought about that, I guess.”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, he says, “I don’t believe you. So, tell me, would it start with him running his finger along your collarbone and down your arm? Would he watch the goosebumps that fall into place as he slides along your body?”
I gulp as he does everything he is saying. I can only nod as my eyes get lost in his. “Your eyes are the most unique color I’ve ever seen.” I guess I can speak after all. “They’re like-whiskey and,”
“Fireflies,” he adds.
Shocked, I say, “Yes, how did you know that’s what I was thinking?”
“I don’t know, Angel, I just do. Dance with me.”
It isn’t a question, and I don’t have time to give an answer. Before I can speak, he has slid us out of the booth and is walking us toward a makeshift dance floor that has filled up as the ominous beat of The Chainsmokers, It Won’t Kill Ya begins to play.
Chapter 7
-Give Me Strength, Snow Patrol
Trevor
What the hell am I doing? Standing from the table, I intentionally leave my phone, hoping my shadow will use that time to make his move.
Marching through the hotel bar that has become crowded, I have to slow my gait, realizing Angel’s little legs are no match for my 6’3 frame. I usually hate to dance, but I had to think of something quickly. I was losing control with her sitting in my lap, and I can’t do that tonight. I wonder briefly if I’m putting her in danger by spending time with her, but push that thought aside as quickly as it came. I won’t see her again after tonight. I can’t.
Standing above her, I finally get a feel for her tiny frame. Even in her four-inch heels, I tower over her. If I was a dick, I would feel powerful, but instead, it makes me want to protect her. I want to dominate her, I realize, in the most carnal of ways.
“Charlie, I-I’m not really a dancer…” she starts, but I cut her off.