Charlene's Choice

by Tasha Hart

  “Fuck,” he hisses, as I run my hand up and down the length of him. “Charlene, I really need you.”

  “Stop talking.”

  He’s good at taking direction. Logan pushes my skirt up and tugs my panties to the side. We’re doing this. I wrap my legs around his hips, and he slides all the way into me, pinning me against the wall.

  I can’t breathe. He fills me up so deep, I can’t catch my breath. All I can do is hang on and ride into him as he digs me up against the wall.

  All this and he reads too? Goddamn right I’m hanging on to this one. I’m hanging onto him hard.

  Ten

  Logan

  Let me wake up like this every day. The sun is coming through the curtains just right, and this absolutely gorgeous woman is curled all along my body. I can feel every curve, and it keeps sending my mind back to last night.

  And, what a night! We made our way across this apartment like a tornado, and I’m actually a little impressed we ended up in the bed. The wall was nice, but so was the couch. And the floor. I’m holding out more than a little hope that we get to try out the shower this morning.

  She shifts a bit in her sleep, and I can see her face. This woman is beautiful. But, more than that, she’s ambitious. And smart. And really, really funny. I’ve got to be careful with her, because I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this for anyone before.

  Calm down, man. It’s way too early to start calling this thing love, or anything like that. Charlene may be the total package but take things easy. Start with breakfast.

  “Hey.” Her eyes have peered open, and she huddles up closer to me.

  “Good morning.” I let my hand run up and down her back, indulging in the curves, gently teasing her toward another round. She kisses my chest and rubs her own hand across my side and down onto my hip.

  “Holy shit!” She sits bolt upright like she’s been bitten by a snake.

  “What? Are you late for something…?” She spins on me, pulling the sheet up to her chest to hide that perfect body.

  “Did you wear a condom last night?” It’s somewhere between an accusation and pure panic.

  “No?” I’m stunned myself.

  “Oh, fuck! Oh, no.” She wraps the sheet around herself and sits on the edge of the bed facing away from me. “Goddammit, I swore I would never let this happen!”

  “What?” I’m trying to get close to her. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Like hell it will. Fuck!” Her shoulders are shaking, and it’s hard to tell whether she’s crying or not. I try to touch her, but she’s immovable. It’s nearly impossible to figure out what to do.

  “Hang on,” is the best I can manage. “I’ll be right back.”

  In the living room, I pull myself into my clothes and head for the door. Just inside, where we must have dropped them, I see Charlene’s keys. Those will probably help.

  Down on the street, I scan the block for a drug store. There’s a food cart on the corner, so that seems like as good a place to start as any. Everything looks better once you’ve got a little breakfast in you.

  “Hey, man.”

  “Can I help you sir?”

  “Yeah, listen, can I get one bacon, egg and cheese, and one sausage, egg and cheese.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Great. Look,” I say pulling out a twenty. “I’ve got to run down the block real quick. Is it okay if you just wrap them up for me? I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I thank him, and hustle down the block. Thankfully, there’s a pharmacy just a block and a half down. God, I love these New York neighborhoods. Heading straight back to where the Family Planning stuff is laid out, it only takes a second to find the Plan B pill.

  Man, I hope this doesn’t offend her. It seems like the best offer I can make at the moment to atone for not slipping on a condom. While I’m in the aisle, I also snag a box of condoms. If there’s a chance we can sleep together again, I’m not making the same mistake twice.

  Back at Charlene’s, her door clicks in place behind me, and I make a point of putting her keys on the table. The last thing I want to do is forget and end up with her locked out of her own place. The day is off to a rocky enough start, I’d hate to do anything to make it worse for her. Charlene deserves better than that.

  She’s not in her room. The bathroom door is slightly ajar, so I give it a knock before peering in.

  “You came back.” Charlene is sitting in a robe on the edge of the tub. It’s clear that she’s been crying.

  “What did you think I would do?” She shrugs in answer. I crouch down in front of her and put the sandwiches on the counter. “Listen, I…”

  “You brought breakfast?” There’s just enough of a smile in her eyes, that I get a sense we’re going to be okay. If I can just get through the next tricky part.

  “That’s not all.” Here goes nothing. I pull the Plan B box out and put it on her knees. She scrunches up her face and a couple more tears roll down her cheeks. Just when I think I might have really blown this she slides off the tub and wraps her arms around me.

  “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear, holding me tighter. “Thank you so much.”

  “Hey,” I rub her back, “It’s okay. This is all okay.” We sit there for a minute, just hanging onto each other.

  “I was so scared,” she says. “The last thing I want to do is end up like my momma. Just when I’ve got my degree and everything is looking good, to end up with a baby. No husband and a baby.”

  That last bit gets me. Husband and babies might not be so bad, I think, but I have to remind myself to keep it cool. Whatever this thing is between us, we’re just at the beginning. So, I just keep kneeling and let her breathe it out.

  “It’ll be alright. You just take this, and you don’t have to worry about it, okay? I got you.” She nods against my shoulder and pulls back to look at me.

  “I think I wiped my nose on your shirt.”

  “Not a problem. I’ve got more.” She laughs. Good.

  “Did you go to the truck on the corner,” she asks, nodding to the sandwiches. I nod and she grins. “Good. Nico is the best.”

  Eleven

  Charlene

  “You scared the fuck out of me when you ducked out. You know that, right?”

  “What was I supposed to do?” His mouth is half full, and it’s weirdly cute.

  “You could have said something.”

  “I did!”

  “Oh, really?” After the emotional rollercoaster of the morning, it’s fun to wind him up a bit. For a lawyer, he’s not doing a great job of defending himself.

  “Yeah. I said I’d be right back.”

  I give him my best “are you kidding me” face. “So, let me get this straight.” Time to start building my case. “You take a girl out, get her all liquored up, then take her home, have sex with her, and when she wakes up freaking out, you just leave her crying on the edge of the bed and say, ‘I’ll be right back?’ You see the problem there, right?” In court, I’d have him tied up in so many knots, it’d take him a year to untie them. This would be an ugly conversation if we weren’t both giggling.

  “All right, I fucked up,” he raises his hands, palms out. “Guilty as charged. But, if I may submit evidence in my defense, I did come back.”

  “Yeah, you did.” I can’t help but smile. “With Nico’s sandwiches, too. Smart move.”

  He leans back looking all proud of himself and takes another big bite. “They are pretty good.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” He’s sitting there, looking all good with his shirt unbuttoned again. It makes my fingers want to get back at his chest. I wonder if there are scratches on his back from last night? Even with the craziness of the morning, I keep thinking about how insanely good the night was.

  “So,” he says. “What about that pill?”

  I stop chewing because there’s a weird lump in my throat that won’t let me swallow. For all my hysterics, I haven’t been able to bring m
yself to take it yet. I don’t know what it is, but the box is still just sitting on the sink in the bathroom. Along with a box of condoms the sneaky little bastard picked up. Confident, isn’t he?

  “I don’t know. It just seems so…” The words run out. It would be hard to explain, even if I had any idea where to begin. I blurted a whole bunch of stuff out in that bathroom, and it’s a little embarrassing to lay out all your mama issues in front of a guy you hardly know.

  There’s something about him that I trust. I can’t help it. It goes back to the first night at the club when he actually tried to shut down his buddy for saying all kinds of nasty shit. Yeah, it got a little complicated with all the money and notes and stuff, but Logan has pretty much made all the right moves.

  “Listen,” he says, “I’m going to be really honest. Don’t freak out, okay?”

  “Okay?” Where the hell is he going with this? Don’t blow this, man, I was just telling myself how much I liked you.

  “Alright. I’d actually like to have a baby with you.” My heart takes off running so hard, I feel like he should be able to see it through my chest. I’ve never been able to keep my face straight, and he says, “Take it easy. I’m just talking here.”

  “Okay.” I put my hands flat on the table on either side of my sandwich and take a breath. “You know that’s a big thing to say to me, though, right?”

  “Yeah, I know it. But, Charlene, I don’t know what it is. It’s something I can see. Just not right now, though.” He adds quickly. “I don’t think either of us are ready for that.”

  You got that right, Logan. We go on one date, we come back here for some wall pounding sex, and that’s all great. Better than great, actually. But, babies? Come on, man.

  “I just got my degree.”

  “Exactly.” I lean back in my chair and look at him. You gotta hand it to this white boy, he sure did just put his cards on the table. “I mean it, though. Babies with you are a thing I can absolutely see.”

  “That’s crazy. You don’t know me.”

  “I know enough about you to know that I really want to know more, know everything.”

  That may be the only thing he could say that would work. And it’s working really good. Because, even if I don’t want to admit it to myself, I can see babies with him, too. Just not right now. Not with so much just starting.

  “What are you thinking?”

  I’m thinking a lot of things, but they’re all pretty jumbled up. So, the best thing I can say right now is, “I’m thinking we should finish up breakfast before it gets cold.”

  “Yeah,” he laughs. “Lots of big talk this morning, huh?”

  My phone buzzes on the counter, and I wrap my robe tighter before grabbing it to see who it is—Reema. Oh, man, not this morning, please? There’s been enough drama already, and it’s not even nine.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Charlene. Mom’s not home.”

  “What?” I said that a bit louder than I meant to, and Logan looks like he’s about to come out of his chair. I wave to him that everything is fine and focus on the call. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.” Reema says, “I’m not sure she came home last night.” Man, all I want to do is get my hands on that woman and shake some sense into her.

  “What do you need, girl?”

  “It’s Monday. We have school.”

  “Goddammit. Okay, baby. You just sit tight, and I’ll figure something out, okay?”

  “’kay.”

  Reema hangs up, and I lean my hands against the counter and take in a deep breath. She’s my mama, and I love her, but that woman is working my very last nerve.

  Twelve

  Charlene

  “What’s going on?” Logan sits on the edge of his chair like a puppy, just eager to please.

  “What’s going on is you need to get out of here.”

  “What? Why?” And now he’s a puppy who just got kicked. I’m the one who’s been put through the wringer, but he gets to sit there being all fragile. What must it be like?

  “That was my sister, Reema. She’s got to go to school, and mom’s not home.”

  “Where is she?”

  “That’s what I’ve got to find out. So, listen, you got to scoot. I need to jump in a shower, get myself together and go find her.”

  “Not a chance.” He shakes his head in denial. This guy, right here. “I’m not going to leave you to deal with all this yourself. Not on top of everything else.”

  “You don’t have a choice. She’s my mama, it’s my problem.” I can hear how stubborn I sound, but I don’t care. My mom is wearing me down to the bone. The last thing I want is for this guy—who told me he wants to have babies with me—watching what’s going to happen when I get my hands on her.

  He’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his arms folded across his chest. With all the people in my life who dig their heels in, the last thing I need is one more. It would be infuriating if he weren’t so unbelievably cute.

  “Come on, Logan.” I start to laugh as I try to push him to the door. “Get out of here, I need to take a shower.”

  “But who’s going to wash your back?” That makes me stop.

  “What did you just say?” He looks down directly into my eyes and says it again, real slow.

  “I said, who is going to wash your back?”

  That warm feeling pools in the base of my stomach. This motherfucker right here. I drop that robe, and he pulls me to him in a crushing embrace, taking my earlobe between his lips.

  “Don’t get too excited,” I whisper, “we only have time for a quick shower.”

  “I don’t do anything quick,” he breathes. Brother, don’t I know it. I pretty well rip the clothes off him.

  I like my showers hot, but goddamn. This puts another meaning to the term. He’s working a warm lather across my body, and I’m running my soapy hands along his long, thick shaft. It’s even bigger than I remembered. Or, maybe he’s just super swollen with wanting me. His hands sure are doing their work. If we don’t wrap this up, I’m in real danger of letting this shower take a lot longer.

  “Rinse off, Logan. We really need to get dressed and get out there.”

  “The next time I get you in a shower, I’m going to make it something to remember.”

  “I’ll take that as a promise,” I say letting the hot water wash away the suds. “But I’m gonna remember this one just fine.”

  We get ourselves dressed, and head down the flights of stairs to the street. Finding mom on foot is going to take forever. There are a couple of places I know to look first, but they’re still blocks away from each other.

  Beep Beep. Logan is holding up his key fob, and the locks pop on his BMW just a few spaces up the street. Between this and the shower, I’m glad I let him stick around to help. He’s going to deserve one hell of a reward later, and I’ve got just the thing.

  “Where to?” He pulls his door closed.

  “Head to the corner and go North. Garrett’s is as good a place to start as any.”

  “What’s Garrett’s?” We make the turn.

  “Some shithole that’s open all night.”

  “All-night bars are illegal in the city.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Tell that to Garrett.”

  It’s locked up when we get there, so there’s no chance mom could be inside. Jogging back to his car, I think of where to head next.

  “Take a right at the second stop. We’ll try Hedgerow House.”

  “Another all-night place?” He quirks a brow.

  “Yup.” We ride for a second in silence, and I feel a stab of embarrassment that I’ve got this rich lawyer helping me hunt for my alcoholic mom in his flashy car. Still, if he wants all that baby stuff he was talking about, he’d better get a clear picture of what he’s buying into. Family is family.

  “How many all-night places are there in this part of town,” he says at last.

  “Plenty, if you know where to look,” I scan the str
eet as we go. “And Benita Johnson knows all the places to look.”

  Son of a bitch, it looks like she didn’t make it to The ‘Row. Nearly two blocks away from the bar, mom is sitting on a stoop, rocked forward. I signal Logan and we stop.

  “Mama?” She rolls back, those boozy eyes trying hard to focus on me. I was wrong. She made it to Hedgerow alright, she was simply too drunk to make it home again. I can’t believe Logan is seeing this.

  “Hey, baby!” Mom breaks into a wide, reeking smile, the greeting of a drunk.

  “What are you doing out here, mom?”

  “Oh, I was just sitting down, taking myself a rest. My legs were tired from walking.”

  “I bet.” If Logan weren’t here, I’d be sorely tempted to slap the hell out of this woman for leaving my sisters alone all night. Who knows how long she’s been sitting on this stoop? Anything could have happened, and then I’d be left with Reema and Layla. They’re already pretty much my responsibility, but I’m not ready to have kids living in my place.

  “Is she okay?” Logan is at my shoulder, looking down with genuine concern. If he’s judging this whole situation, he’s doing a damn find job of hiding it.

  “She’ll be fine,” I look up at him. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this.” What I don’t add is “this week.”

  Thirteen

  Logan

  Charlene’s mother looks rough, and Charlene keeps glancing up and down the block to see if anyone is watching. Part of me feels uneasy about being here, seeing her like this, but I’d rather be able to lend a hand than imagine these two out here dealing with this on their own.

  Well, one person dealing with the drama. Left to her own devices, Charlene’s mother probably would have stayed on that stoop all morning.