The Charlotte Chronicles

by Jen Frederick

  I close my eyes, trying to shut out his possession, but it winds around me, trying to repair the frayed bonds. It’s chaotic in my head now, and he’s frenetic too. His thrusts become less rhythmic as his control is leaving him.

  “Oh no, baby,” I hear him say, “you’re coming with me.”

  His hard, big thumb finds my clit, circling it, pinching it until now I’m the one writhing in jerky motions. He’s wrenching my orgasm from me, ordering it. Maybe my body does belong to him because it’s building, low and small. It grows and grows until it is too big for me to contain. My feet arch and my fingernails dig into the headboard and I hear myself scream, long and loud. Above me he’s grunting and growling. I want him to follow me into bliss. His hips jack fiercely against me when suddenly he pulls out.

  “No,” I cry at the loss. Even though I’d come, I wanted him in my body still.

  “Look at me, Charlotte,” he commands in a dark voice.

  My eyes open in response, and I see him, thick and red in his hand. He pulls on himself, once, twice in motions so rough I fear that he’s hurting himself. But no. It’s what he wants, and his come spills all over me, striking my sex, my stomach and the valley between my breasts. It’s shockingly erotic.

  “You are mine since the day you were born and until the day we die together.” His eyes glitter at me, but when his large hand lands on my belly, I can’t look away. He rubs his sperm into me, over my lower lips, all across my stomach, and over my breasts. “You know this.” His free hand comes up to cup my chin. “You know this.”

  And then he kisses me, and I’m devastated all over again.

  * * *

  It is nearly dawn when I finally gather enough strength to leave the bed. He’s sleeping, sprawled across two-thirds of the bed, one large arm heavy across my chest and a leg entwined with mine. I wince at the soreness between my legs. My whole body aches as if I’ve just endured a heavy workout after a long period of idleness. Even though I’m slow and quiet, it only takes one movement to wake him. His head turns and he rolls onto his back, pulling me close to his body.

  “We’ve three more to go,” he says. He’s referring to the six orgasms he’s given me. He’d have probably fulfilled his stated goal if I hadn’t passed out on him a couple of hours ago.

  “I’m tired and sore.” Since he is awake, I make no attempts to be quiet. Instead I push away from him, relieved he lets me go without an argument.

  In the bathroom, I turn the water on and stare at the disheveled mess that is reflected in the mirror. My hair is a matted mess. There might be a family of birds in there, but I wouldn’t know because it’s so damned tangled. There isn’t an inch of me that wasn’t touched by him last night. I hardly know what to think of the ache in my heart. Is it because he’s back or because I wish he’d go away?

  I need my friends. I need Lainey, Reese, even Nick. I need perspective and time. I’m so confused. The shower helps. It’s hot and cleansing. I spend a long time under the water trying to figure out what to do. Reese is right. I’ve idolized Nate and, worse, romanticized our past to such a degree that I’ve been unable to move forward. Even if I was meant to be with Nate forever, I should have used our separation to meet other people.

  Last night I wondered if he was looking at the old Charlotte or the new one, but who is the new Charlotte? Her heart is stuck somewhere in her sixteen-year-old body. I’ve done myself a disservice. I don’t need to go out and have multiple one night stands, but I do need to be open to meeting new people—to finding a love that would make adult Charlotte happy no matter what teen Charlotte thinks. Draped in a hotel bathrobe, I take a deep breath and open the door.

  Nathan is still lying on the bed, staring at the bathroom door. His expression is one of satisfaction. Lazily, his eyes follow me. “Come back to bed, baby. Let’s cuddle.”

  His nonchalant attitude converts my unhappiness to anger. It’s as if he does believe that sex solved all of our problems. My panties are on the coffee table. I shudder and make a mental note to wipe that down with some sanitizer. I gather up the rest of my clothes and the two pieces of his clothing—T-shirt and cargo shorts. His clothes go on the chair and mine into the dirty laundry bag in the closet.

  “Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby.”

  “You should go on the pill. That way we don’t have to do condoms.”

  “Why don’t you get snipped if you want to have sex without protection so badly? That procedure’s reversible.”

  He covers his groin as if I’m coming after him with a scissors to do outpatient surgery on the hotel room bed. “Fuck no.”

  “Then you’ll have to keep using condoms. Actually I don’t care what you use,” I say, pulling out my suitcase. I need to get out of here and into a different hotel room. Actually I need to get out of San Diego. “I’m not sleeping with you again. This was a mistake. Sex solves nothing. If sex was the answer, I would have slept with any number of guys. If anything, our marathon showed me I was starving for sex. I should have been having it for years, that way I wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to your physical advances.”

  “What?” he shouts and jackknifes off the bed. His smug look is gone. “This was us reconnecting.”

  “No, Nathan, this was about our bodies finding well needed released. Reconnecting would be you telling me why we had to reconnect. Since you don’t feel like it is necessary, why don’t you take yourself out of my hotel room. If I want to reconnect with you I’ll give you a call.”

  I pick up his clothes and throw them at him. Shock fills his eyes, followed by determination.

  Jerkily he pulls his clothes on. “I’ve got to get back to base, but I’m on two-week shore leave starting tomorrow. You can run, Charlotte, but there is nowhere on this goddamn earth I can’t find you.”

  “Creepy much? I’m pretty sure that comes right out of the stalker handbook.” I cross my arms and glare at him.

  “What the hell? We spent the night making love. You came six times. You love me, and I love you. We can work this out.”

  “You want to work this out? Then start talking.” I drop into one of the two upholstered chairs in the room and cross my arms, waiting.

  He starts pacing and I, the stupid twit that I am, follow his every move. I watch the muscles bunch under his tight T-shirt and the way the veins stand out on his thick forearms. I can feel myself softening inside because—goddamn—he is fine.

  “I know I don’t deserve you,” he begins. His voice is so low I can barely hear him. “That you’ve been with no one in the last nine years blows my mind. When some guys on the team get their Dear John letters or find out from a buddy back home that their girl is cheating on them, they go out and try to prove their virility by fucking everything that moves. Most of the time that’s paid flesh, but sometimes its other service women–nurses, supply convoy members, helo pilots. That is how they deal with loss. You could have done that, but you didn’t even though I’d cut you out of my life. I may pretend like it was fidelity that kept you away from other men, but that’s probably presumptuous of me. I don’t know why you were alone, but I’m not sorry.” He grimaces. “Maybe I am a creepy stalker because I should simply want you to be happy. You weren’t though, were you?”

  I glare at him because he didn’t deserve my fidelity even though he got it.

  “Say something,” he begs.

  I snort, a humorless, short laugh. “That’s what I said to you a million times in my mind. But you didn’t say anything, and now you’re waxing on and on about my state of revirginization. Why don’t we talk about your supposed abstinence? A man like you going without since you were seventeen? Do you actually think I believe anything that you’re saying?”

  “You should. It’s true.” He squeezes the back of his neck.

  I sit for a long time, waiting, but when he adds nothing, I rise. “If that’s all you have, I think you should go. I’ll think about it, and if I want to see you again, I’ll call.”

  He crosses the
carpet in two giant strides and pulls me against him. With his face in my neck, he pleads, “Charlotte, God, give me another chance. Let me love you again.”

  I stand motionless, doing everything I can to resist. He kisses my neck, the tender part behind my ear. He rubs my shoulders, but still I don’t move. His lips move to my forehead, and he traces the small constellation of freckles along my cheeks and the upper bridge of my nose. “I’ve never stopped loving you,” he whispers against my jaw.

  “And now, after all these years you’re ready to be a couple?” I finally say.

  “I want us to try, Charlotte baby, to be what it was we were born for.”

  “I can’t. I’ve already been stupid for nine years. I don’t want to be this stupid again. I couldn’t even look myself in the mirror this morning. You hurt me so much, Nathan. I can’t even begin to tell you how painful it was, particularly toward the end. I deserve better than what I got from you, and I don’t believe you are the man who can deliver that better for me. Not anymore.”

  My quietly spoken words stagger him. I feel him stumble and then right himself. “You don’t mean that,” he insists.

  “I don’t think I can trust you.”

  “Will you let me try to change your mind?”

  31

  Charlotte

  “You had sex with him, didn’t you?” Reese says with utter disgust. I should have never Skyped him when I got to my new hotel room.

  “How can you tell?”

  “You have that relaxed post-coital look to you. I can recognize it anywhere. Even strangers. It’s my gift.”

  “I don’t feel relaxed,” I complain. “I feel awful and super tense.”

  “Was it bad? Sometimes those good-looking guys are bad in bed. They hook up and never return for feedback, so they live in this blissful cloud of ignorance.” He waves a finger in a wide circle around his head which, I guess, is supposed to indicate a hovering cloud.

  “I wish. It was so good. Too good.” I groan.

  “Shit.”

  Exactly. “He said he hadn’t slept with another woman in nine years.”

  “Holy fuck. Nine years?” Reese’s eyes are wide doughnuts. Disbelief drips from every word.

  “I know. I couldn’t turn him down after he said that.”

  He nods in agreement. “Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know.” I want to believe him, but I’m afraid as well. If he has been true for all these years, pushing him away might be a mistake. I don’t tell Reese that Nate was insatiable and that he didn’t let me sleep more than an hour at a time before waking me with his fingers or his mouth somewhere on my body. “What do I do now? Can it be this good with someone else? I mean, I wish it had been awful. Then I could pat him on the back and say, ‘Gosh, I’m sorry you didn’t write to me for nine years, but hey I’m glad we’re friends again.’ Instead, it’s as if I’ve eaten the best thing ever and I need refills right away or I might die.”

  “You’re not going to die, honey. Here’s the problem: you care about him, which is affecting how you feel in the sack. I’m going to take back my prescriptions of meaningless sex. I think that will only make you feel worse. You need to start dating, and by that I mean, sign up on a website and start searching for guys that hit every mark you’ve ever wanted. Someone who is close to their family. Someone who is busy with their own career so that they don’t mind the time you spend on yours but also someone who wants to build a future with you. Someone who makes you laugh and can communicate with you.”

  “Like you only not gay.”

  “Right, although we all know that I really can’t stand my family. What about your LA guy? Who is he anyway?”

  “Colin Matthews.”

  He sucks in a breath and follows this with a yell, “You know Colin fucking Matthews?”

  I’m glad Reese is in his condo, although it’s possible that everyone in his complex heard him. I wait until he settles down before admitting, “We’ve been friends for years.”

  “Charlotte Randolph, you have been holding out on me. How do you know all these fine specimens?”

  “We were at the same treatment clinic in Switzerland as teenagers.”

  He looks at me with chagrin, and I shrug because that part of my life is over. I used to take a cocktail of drugs daily, but I’ve been declared clean of the malignant cells since I was sixteen. I have checkups every three months, but they’ve become so perfunctory that I almost forget the reason why I have them. Check my blood. Check my urine. Make sure my shunt is still draining properly.

  “I had forgotten he had cancer. Yes, go do him. He sounds perfect. And he looks perfect.” Reese’s eyes get a faraway look as if he’s imagining how perfect Colin Matthews might look without his clothes on. I’ve seen Colin in a swimsuit, and his abs are movie star perfect.

  “He’s pretty gorgeous and a super guy,” I admit.

  Reese shakes his head. “Why aren’t you on the phone with him right now? I’m disconnecting because you’re wasting time talking to me.” He blows me a kiss, and the screen goes blank.

  Dumbfounded, I stare at the black tablet screen. I can’t call Colin up and beg him to start dating me. I don’t even think I can ask him for a date. But I can call him and tell him I’ve fucked up. Later, though. I’m not ready for that conversation.

  As I sink into my work, a text message alert sounds. I read the bubble before I register the name.

  I’ve spent nine years running from you and your sweetness. Biggest mistake of my life. If it takes nine more years to convince you that I’m worth a second chance, I’ll consider those nine years well spent. I will do whatever it takes to get you back. Fair warning.

  My heart stutters and may even briefly stop. I call Colin immediately because otherwise? I’d be driving to Nate’s base and throwing myself at his feet.

  “Hey Charlie.”

  I can hear traffic on the street. He must be going somewhere.

  “Are you going surfing?”

  “Are you following me?” he asks with laughing suspicion. My heartache eases a little bit hearing his voice.

  “No, I guessed. It sounds like you’re driving, and since it’s fairly early in the morning, I thought you might be on the way to the beach to catch some waves.”

  “You are a champion guesser because that’s exactly what I’m doing. In fact I’m pulling into the parking lot.” The traffic sounds dim as he exits the road and parks his vehicle in the quiet of the sandy beach. I’ve been with him a couple of times. I don’t surf, but I’m really great at lying under an umbrella reading a book while he catches waves.

  “I’m in San Diego, and I’d love to visit you. I’m finishing up a project, and I thought I’d drive up,” I say.

  “Actually I’d love an excuse to get out of LA right now,” he admits. He’s out of the car now. I hear the door open and close.

  “Is it becoming stifling?” Colin flits from one flower to another, never settling. At one time, I thought he’d fallen in love. He’d called me and wanted me to come out and meet her, but before I could make the arrangements he had texted me that it was over and he was coming to Chicago to see me. It was during that visit he’d made his first pass at me.

  “Yes, someone said the L word to me the other day. I want you to know that I didn’t jump up immediately and flee but waited until the next morning like a good boy.”

  “Wow, so generous of you.”

  “It took everything I had to stay. I literally was counting the seconds. If there is a purgatory, I deserve to reduce my time there based on last night alone.”

  I laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Incorrigible? Are you reading the dictionary?”

  “Fuck you, Colin.”

  “I’ve been trying to get in your pants for nearly a decade, so, yes, I accept this invitation.” When I don’t immediately lob back a joking refusal as is my habit, he strikes. “Charlie, are you actually giving me a green light?”

  “You know that o
ne girl you dated?” I duck his question.

  He sighs. “Which one? There were so many.”

  “The actress. Gen? I felt like she was the one for you.”

  There are several beats of silence before Colin replies. “She broke my rule. The no publicity one. It’s the only one I have.”

  “I know, honey.” I can still hear the hurt even though he tries to pretend he is over it. “How can you be sure though?”

  “She admitted it.”

  “Did she ever call you or try to reach out?”

  “Who knows? I flew to Chicago to see you if you recall.”

  “She seemed so real, so genuine. It’s hard to believe she leaked anything to the paps.”

  “Why are we talking about this? Gen is old news.”

  “I just wish one of us was happy.” Colin is a great guy, and it pains me that he was hurt so badly by a girl who’d seemed perfect for him.

  “I thought you were happy, Charlotte? In fact, the last time I saw you I suggested we see how far our friendship could extend, and you replied that you didn’t want to ruin anything because you were happy the way things were. And now you’re not happy?” He sounds amused instead of angry.

  “Happiness is an elusive emotion. Maybe we shouldn’t pursue it. Maybe the thing we should run after is contentment.” I rub my head because this whole conversation is giving me a headache.

  “Why did you call me?” he asks softly. “Did something happen?”

  Then what I’m doing hits me. I’m trying to use my dear friend Colin to chase away my need for Nathan. How could I behave like this? Colin doesn’t deserve this. No one does. I stiffen my spine. “I’m calling you because you are one of my oldest friends. I was feeling blue and needed to talk to someone I cared about. I wish we could love each other in a deeper, more physical way, but I think we both know that we’re better off friends than lovers.”

  “I guess this means no, you’re not going to drive up and give me the night of my life.”