Those Who Wait

by Haley Cass

  A smile made its way onto her mouth as she nodded. “Even if I have to bring it to your squad car after I leave work.” She didn’t lift her hands from their buried position in her pockets for warmth to offer a wave, but gave quick kisses to their cheeks. “Have a nice dinner.”

  “You, too,” Caleb shot back, wiggling his eyebrows and this time she couldn’t help but huff out a laugh as she turned away, shaking her head.

  She didn’t bother correcting him – because tonight wasn’t about that – but it was better to leave it on that note than his girlfriend assertions. His completely off-base assertions, which were laughable, when she thought about it. Which she did, as she walked briskly toward Sutton’s apartment building.

  However Caleb wanted to misrepresent what she had going with Sutton, Charlotte was enjoying this. Enjoying the time they spent together, that she had someone who cared about her, who she cared about, but who she wasn’t beholden to beyond the bounds of friendship.

  It was perhaps unfamiliar to her, but it only meant something if she had intentions to let it mean something. If she had intentions of letting her endearment of Sutton and appreciation of their friendship develop further, that would mean something more.

  They were friends and they had literal rules written to protect that status. Charlotte liked that sort of order and had no intention of messing with it.

  With that in mind, she stepped into the building Sutton lived in, in a better mood than she’d been in throughout most of the day despite Naomi’s interview still clinging to the back of her mind.

  She slipped her hands out of her pockets, ridiculously thankful to be out of the cold air again as she unzipped her heavier winter coat and made her way down the hallway and toward the elevator.

  As the elevator doors opened she moved to step in, lifting her head to give a polite nod and smile to the woman walking out of them.

  However, when she got the same polite-stranger smile back and made eye contact, she paused. Eyes narrowing slightly as they trained on the face smiling back at her. Because that face . . . it was picking at something in her mind. She recognized that face, from somewhere.

  Charlotte rarely ever forgot a face; it was somewhat of a gift, given her chosen profession. It was entirely rare for Charlotte not to be able to recall someone she’d met, even if it had only been briefly.

  And this woman – young, with olive-toned skin and rich dark eyes – was attractive; someone she was fairly certain she would remember meeting. So, she deduced, that maybe they hadn’t actually met. But if they hadn’t met in person, Charlotte knew she’d seen her somewhere. There was something about her . . .

  Nagging enough in the back of her mind that she couldn’t let it go and she let the elevator doors close without getting in.

  Apparently, the feeling was mutual, given that the woman was tilting her head to the side in a speculative look that made Charlotte straighten her spine and set her jaw. It was a look that she didn’t like at all; she couldn’t place it immediately, but whatever it was about this woman made the faintest distaste run up the back of her throat.

  That feeling only intensified when those dark eyes took on a glint, an accompanying smirk sliding over her face, as she looked Charlotte up and down. “Oh.”

  It was that irritating smirk that gave her what she needed to place her face. This was the woman that she’d seen on Sutton’s phone. The one who had sought Sutton out on social media, who had given Sutton her number at speed dating. The woman who Charlotte likened to somewhat of a vulture, seeking out pretty girls who seemed out of their element.

  Alia Haddad. That name seemed burned into her brain for some reason.

  Alia Haddad, who now ran her eyes over Charlotte’s – Sutton’s – jacket, and lifted a knowing eyebrow. Of course, because Sutton had been wearing this very jacket that night that she’d gone to that speed dating event. The thought of it made her clench her jaw for a moment, before she very deliberately released it.

  “Coming to see our friend Sutton?” Alia positively drawled out, and Charlotte could not stand the excitement in her tone.

  She allowed a slow smile to slide onto her face, knowing it was sharp and a bit feral, but not nearly as much as she could have let it be. Just enough, because the way she placed an emphasis on our friend gave Charlotte the worst feeling in her stomach. As if Sutton was her friend in the same way she was Charlotte’s, which . . .

  Sutton was a great friend. She’d seen that with Regan, and a bit with her friend Emma in the very limited time she’d met the other woman a couple weeks ago. But they didn’t give her this feeling that – that she didn’t want to name, but she didn’t enjoy it.

  Instead, she hummed in confirmation. “Yes, here to see my friend, Sutton,” she found it necessary to repeat, before feigning ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

  “Alia. Haddad.” She didn’t offer her hand, for which Charlotte was grateful because etiquette demanded she would have to shake it, but she had no desire to do so. She tilted her head to the side, though, appraising Charlotte for a few moments before her smirk widened into a delighted smile. “I’ve seen your ads, Miss Thompson. Very impressive; I’ll be voting for you.”

  Those were words that should have felt like a compliment. She should be flattered and thrilled that her name was getting out there, that she was gaining voters. It should have felt like an opening to discuss her campaign, or at the very least to thank her, sincerely.

  Since she’d announced her campaign, that was exactly the response that comments like that she’d received so far had inspired.

  Instead of the other times she’d heard similar words, this time they felt loaded. Loaded, because Alia must have been the friend Sutton had mentioned in her text that she’d watched Naomi’s interview with, because apparently they’d been hanging out. And in a ludicrous feeling that Charlotte didn’t enjoy in the least, she suddenly wished that she’d been the one to watch the interview with Sutton.

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Thank you. Do you have an interest in politics, then?”

  Alia shrugged, that damnably easygoing smile staying secure on her face. “Not really, actually. But I have a friend or two who are interested, so I keep current.”

  Yes, Charlotte would just bet that she had a friend who was interested in politics. A friend who lived in this very building, who had told Charlotte that the only reason she had such a vested interest in this current election was because Charlotte was running.

  It was something that shouldn’t matter at all but at this moment, faced with Alia Haddad, it did.

  Because even if Sutton was wonderfully and beautifully naïve about some things, including her own charm, Charlotte certainly wasn’t. And she’d pegged Alia’s interest even before she’d had this face-to-face with her.

  “I’m glad you have some friends who are so current, then – it’s good for me and my business. I hope it makes you feel better knowing that you’re giving your vote to a candidate who truly cares about invested constituents.” She lifted her eyebrow and hoped that her meaning was clear. Her meaning that Sutton was her business, and that should any such vulture come sniffing around, Charlotte – who was likely more experienced and was even more protective than she’d thought she would be – would be there.

  It didn’t make Alia falter and that in and of itself set Charlotte on edge even more. “Oh, I do feel better about that, believe me. I also find myself invested in some of your constituents.” She quirked her eyebrow. “Speaking of, Sutton’s waiting for you upstairs, and I’m running a little late. Got a little caught up hanging out upstairs; you know how that can be. Lost track of time and all.”

  The heavy, dark feeling that sluiced through her and settled thickly in the pit of her stomach was unmistakable as jealousy. Despite the fact that her brushes with the feeling in terms of her personal life were very limited, she would be ignorant to let herself believe anything else.

  She refused to focus on it as she made sure the sm
ile remained on her face, as unstrained as it could possibly be. Silently, she thanked her ability to maintain composure in any situation. “Absolutely, I don’t want to make you run late, nor do I want to keep Sutton waiting. Have a good night.”

  “Oh, you too,” Alia shot back, before she glided by Charlotte, who watched her for a moment with narrowed eyes before jamming her finger at the elevator button again, unintentionally a little too hard.

  The ride up and walk down Sutton’s hallway was altogether too fast as her mind processed this uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling. It wasn’t as though she had the right to tell Sutton who to talk to or be friends with – or even that she wanted to! Sutton was a grown woman – a grown, intelligent woman who had her own agency and her own decisions to make, at that.

  But – Alia. Charlotte couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that Alia wanted Sutton the exact same way she did. And who wouldn’t? Sutton was gorgeous, smart, and inspired feelings of endearment and affection effortlessly.

  As she pursed her lips in thought, she gave a brisk knock on the door. Alia Haddad, regardless of how much Charlotte inherently didn’t trust or like her, wasn’t the problem here. Other people were always going to find Sutton attractive or want to be with her. That was fine; great.

  The problem was that Charlotte didn’t enjoy this feeling, not just the jealousy but the little part of her brain that wondered –

  Her thoughts cut off as the door swung open and she was facing the woman in question. The woman who was wearing jeans with one of the long, comfortable sweaters Charlotte had come to learn Sutton favored in the winter.

  She wore bright yellow socks and the sight of them made Charlotte’s mood inexplicably brighten, just a bit, before she tracked her eyes back up Sutton’s body. Her hair was tossed into a quick and messy bun, some strands falling out, but it was the smile that slid across Sutton’s face – bright and instant – that warmed Charlotte right down to her toes.

  “Hey! Come in.” Sutton quickly stepped back, eyes sparkling in amusement that Charlotte couldn’t overlook even despite that feeling in her stomach that was like a lead weight. “Two coats, lightweight?”

  Still, the smile on her face wasn’t forced like it had been earlier with Alia, because she couldn’t resist the surge of genuine fondness that she felt with Sutton. “Funny,” she allowed, teasingly.

  Sutton’s laugh was light as she turned on her socked heel and started walking down the hall, leading their way into the kitchen. “So, I made a pot roast for dinner a little while ago. I have some leftovers. Regan’s working late tonight, so there’s some for her, but there’s more than enough for you. It’s good to warm you up,” she added earnestly.

  She was just so . . . sweet. Charlotte registered that as she shut the door behind her and followed Sutton into the kitchen. She took in the slow sway of Sutton’s hips as she made her way into the kitchen, her eyes watching just a moment too long for their just friends night.

  Sutton had made dinner for herself and Alia, most likely. She pursed her lips at the idea. “Maybe in a little while; I’m not feeling too hungry right now, darling.”

  She had been hungry earlier, she realized with a bit of surprise. She’d been hungry even while she’d been entrenched in watching Naomi’s interview. Even when she’d been in her earlier thoughtful and suspicious mood, she would have gratefully taken any of the delicious food she’d come to expect when Sutton cooked.

  But that run-in with Alia was enough to take away her appetite.

  Sutton’s eyebrows drew together as she turned to give Charlotte a concerned look. “Really? I assumed you hadn’t eaten since lunch. Are – the interview,” she surmised, shaking her head at herself. “Such an idiot. I’m sorry.”

  Charlotte would have laughed if she felt like delving into detail about what was going on in her mind. If she thought she could – or should – explain to Sutton what she was feeling.

  Then again, that was one of the things Sutton had said to her in the past. That she didn’t want Charlotte to hide her thoughts, so with a deep breath, she started to speak slowly. Deliberately. “I ran into Alia in the lobby. I didn’t know you two were . . . friends.”

  She didn’t know that she’d ever have another reason beyond work to use her Politician Voice. The tone that she’d perfectly crafted over the years to sound perfectly normal and unaffected, where only her family could hear the subtle difference – if any – between it and her casual voice.

  Yet, here she was. Glad to be able to disguise her . . . damn it, her ridiculous jealousy. That was the only word she could find for it at this point. That angrily hot and sinking feeling in her stomach and the matching gripping at the back of her throat at that stupid, knowing smirk on Alia’s face. She was jealous.

  Because Alia wanted Sutton – whether or not Sutton knew it, though Charlotte was fairly certain that Alia wasn’t the type to keep her motives a secret.

  Sutton’s eyes widened, her words coming out in a rushed ramble, “Well, we’re not really that good of friends yet, but we met for coffee a few days ago – remember, the day I texted you about the place near your work? And then we just started talking. She’s nice, though. Funny, and –” Sutton abruptly cut herself off, her cheeks flushing deeply. “I guess, I mean. Yeah. We’re friends.”

  It was in the way her cheeks flushed that made Charlotte’s stomach clench tightly again, and with it an unmistakable and sudden urge to touch Sutton. Which was – it was illogical. It wasn’t as though Charlotte couldn’t control herself and her wants and needs.

  But it was the fact that Sutton was blushing when she mentioned Alia almost in the way that she did when Charlotte flirted with her sometimes or when Charlotte winked at her or when Charlotte bit at the spot under her ear that gave her this wanting.

  The need to push every thought of Alia Haddad out of Sutton’s beautiful mind and replace it with herself. To put Sutton in the frame of mind where she was gasping out Charlotte’s name the way she did right before she made her come.

  “Um, why?” Sutton asked, her hands coming out in front of her and twisting together.

  Charlotte didn’t want to think too much about the fact that while Sutton was exploring sex, she wanted her to be just exploring with her. But it was absolutely the truth.

  It hadn’t occurred to her until that moment that her brother had used the word exclusive for them. And even though that had never been a word that Charlotte had applied to herself in terms of romantic or sexual liaisons, she realized that she hadn’t even thought twice about it at the time. Because a part of her had assumed, when Sutton had been so adamant that she be the one to “show her the ropes,” that she would be the only one.

  She hadn’t known until this moment how much she liked that idea. How much she’d been enjoying being the only one in Sutton’s life in that capacity – for now – the way Sutton was the only one in hers.

  She’d never been known to not go after what she wanted. Within proper parameters, naturally, which was what made her draw in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. She’d hoped it would give her a bit of clarity of mind, but instead all she was still thinking about was Sutton backed against the wall and melting under her hands.

  It didn’t work, and she felt the desire pool low in her stomach before she cleared her throat. “Sutton . . . do you still have that list of rules?”

  Sutton gave her a confused look. “What –” before she cut herself off, blushing again as she nodded. “Uh, yeah. In my bedroom. Do you want it? Or to change something?” Her voice slowed and lowered as she asked. And she was so easy to read that Charlotte could essentially read the way doubts formed in her mind.

  Instead of answering directly though, she stepped closer, slipping out of her heels as she did. She slipped the jackets off of her shoulders too and enjoyed the way Sutton’s eyes watched the motion. “You could say that.”

  She lifted an eyebrow, before she reached up to her own hair, running her hand through the curls to shake them o
ut. She then dragged her fingertips deliberately over her throat and collarbone before dropping them back to her side.

  And Sutton watched her, taking in the motion as Charlotte could see her thickly swallow and a flush spread over her neck and cheeks. Satisfaction teamed up with the desire she felt striking through her.

  She dropped her hands to Sutton’s hips, and they walked a step back until Sutton was pressed against the wall. Deftly, she dipped her hands under the hem of Sutton’s sweater, running them up so that her thumbs could swipe over the soft skin of Sutton’s waist. She could feel Sutton’s goosebumps; she smirked as she leaned in a little closer, moving her nose along Sutton’s neck and taking a moment to enjoy the scent of her lotion.

  Feeling Sutton shiver, she dropped her mouth in a light kiss against the soft, warm skin. “I think –” She placed another kiss, this time her mouth open and letting herself enjoy the taste of Sutton’s skin for a few seconds. “– we should –” She moved up, nipping her teeth at Sutton’s earlobe. “– add a rule.”

  It was in the easy way that Sutton melted back against the wall that sent another, deeper thrill through her. The need to take Sutton, to make sure that she was the only one to do this . . . it was all she could think of now.

  But she wanted Sutton to think of this with a clear head, so she pulled back, scratching her nails down Sutton’s sides for a moment before she made herself stop.

  Big blue eyes were dark and they blinked at her slowly. A flush of arousal moved over her cheeks as Charlotte could feel her chest starting to heave with deep, heavy breaths, their chests brushing through their clothes. “Uh – I’m . . . um, what rule?”

  “That for as long as we’re sleeping together, we’re the only ones. I won’t sleep with anyone else, and neither will you,” she clarified, her fingers itching to touch all of that soft, smooth skin again.