by Anne Conley
“Friend-zoned, huh?”
He snorted, “Yeah, I’m the King of the Friend-zone. It’s definitely my very own territory.”
She was about to tell him something she knew she would regret. It would only give him hope, so she tempered it with a caveat. “I think you’re pretty hot, Les. I’ll help you find a girl who’s perfect for you as soon as I make a girlfriend to introduce you to.”
He smiled ruefully. “No thanks, Charlie. I’m good. I’ve sort of resigned myself to lurking in the wings, lusting after the unattainable.”
Resisting the urge to plant herself in his lap and run her fingers through his unruly mop of hair, she turned back to her small pile of clothes on the bed. She was running her hands over a pair of dress slacks she’d brought to wear to the auction, listening to Les strum on the guitar when her phone rang. Her blood pressure skyrocketed. Even though he hadn’t called in the last couple of days, she still knew.
“Hi, Justin.”
“Where are you now, Babe?”
“I’m in a hotel room in Santa Barbara. Les is playing at a wedding tonight, and I’m his date.”
She heard his quick inhale and could almost hear his knuckles cracking through the phone. His voice was deceptively quiet though. “You’re what?”
She sighed, exhausted with this. “Okay, I’m not answering the phone to you anymore, Justin. I don’t know how else to tell you, this isn’t working. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Goodbye.” She pushed the button to end the call, and then turned her phone off to keep him from calling back. Tossing it onto the bed, she looked at Les, who had a suddenly hopeful look on his face.
“Don’t you start, too.” He shuttered his eyes, but a satisfied smirk remained on his mouth. Her eyes were glued to the feature as she continued. “I’m going shopping. I need something new, and I’m buying it myself. I’ll be back in a little while.” Grabbing her purse, she was out the door.
Thrift stores in Santa Barbara weren’t anything like thrift stores in Serendipity. Where Serendipity had tons of t-shirts, sweatpants, old bridesmaids’ dresses and flip flops that had been donated, Charlie actually found a cute little black dress with the tags still on it and a pair of strappy stilettos. For a steal. She stopped at the corner drugstore and bought Maybelline for her face and walked back to the hotel with her purchases.
When she got back to the room, Les was pacing and she had to contain her shock.
“Holy shit, you clean up well.” She managed, barely stopping herself from jumping him. He was dressed in black slacks that draped from his slim hips and a black dress shirt that made his shoulders look even wider than before. His hair was wet, or gelled, and the curls were contained, barely. One wayward curl escaped over his forehead, and she longed to twirl it in her fingers, to see if it was as silky as it looked.
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re back. Did you get everything you needed?” His eyes held tension in the wrinkles around the edges and his mouth was a stern line across his face.
Charlie held up her bags. “Yeah, I got some great stuff at the thrift shop down the street. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little case of nerves. This isn’t the Gin here.”
Unable to stop herself, Charlie stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around Les. “You’ll do great.” She squeezed and was rewarded by the feel of his long steely arms wrapping around her.
His head rested on her shoulder, fitting her perfectly. Charlie had never known this sensation before, the feeling of fitting with someone. Together, they were one unit. His solid torso pressed against hers and she pushed herself flush against his body, feeling him tense. His heart pounded against her chest and she could hear him take a deep breath.
“Thanks for that. I needed a hug.” The husky murmur against her earlobe made her insides tingle, and Charlie swore her panties were smoking. She sure could use a lot more than a hug.
But not now. And definitely not with Les.
She could feel stirring in his pants against her hip, and longed to grind against him and pull him onto the bed, six inches away.
But she knew better. Les would want more. She would only break his heart, and he was so broken already, she might just push him over the edge.
Too soon, he pushed her away, gently. “I’m going down to the bar for a drink. That might help. Meet me there when you’re ready?”
Suddenly feeling empty at the lack of Les in her arms, she stammered her agreement as she watched him walk out the door.
An hour later, she was showered, makeup applied, hair blow-dried, and had dressed in the little black dress and heels she’d bought. Proud of her transformation, she rode the elevator down to the lobby and entered the bar area. She found Les leaning on the corner of the bar, smiling and talking to a man in a tux.
She sauntered over, ignoring the feeling in her gut that had blossomed at seeing his teeth flashing.
His drink was halfway to his lips when he saw her and froze for a second before smiling at her.
“Charlie! And you said I clean up nice…” He embraced her and she could smell the whiskey on his breath mingling with the sandalwood aftershave. It was a heady combination, and she suddenly understood the meaning of the word swoon. “Meet Lance, the reason I’m here.” He released her from the all-too brief hug, but kept his hand on the small of her back. The tingles running from his hand through the thin fabric of the dress caused a distracting warmth to run up her spine.
Lance was a tall man, imposing in his tux, but his smile was gracious and warm. He extended his hand. “So nice to meet you. I’ve been hearing all about your adventures the last couple of days. Looks like you’re the hero of the hour, huh?” He turned back to Les, winking as he did. “You guys have a couple of drinks on me, but don’t be late, okay?”
With one last glance at Charlie, he swept out of the bar, tossing back a wave.
“He seems nice. College buddy?”
“Yeah, we were roommates at Texas State Technical College. He’s a pretty good guy.”
“Doesn’t seem nervous at all. I would be if I was getting married in a couple of hours.”
“Well, it’s not his first rodeo. I think this is number three for him. What do you want to drink?”
“I’ll have what you’re having.” He waved down the bartender, placing their order. “If at first you don’t succeed…” Her parents, for all their many many flaws, had at least managed to stay married to each other. She never could understand their commitment to one another when they couldn’t even commit to a child. They were like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde, except for instead of robbing banks, they abused and sold their daughter for sex.
When the drink came, she drank it fast to drown her suddenly morbid thoughts. She hadn’t been to a wedding in a while, and hadn’t thought it would bring these emotions to the surface. She’d better get prepared to start stomping them down, like that whack-a-mole game–each one that popped up, would be hammered back below the surface.
“You look really nice, Charlie.” Les sat down on the bar stool next to hers, and she could feel the heat of his thigh as it rested against hers. She might as well get prepared for that, too. Going to a wedding with a man who was shopping around for a bride to settle with probably wasn’t the best idea she’d had. But as she looked at the earnest expression on his face, and saw his eyes laced with yearning, the trepidation in her belly turned to a blossoming heat, a curling desire that shot tendrils of her own need up through her core.
“Thank you.” Her own voice came out barely more than a whisper. Les’s fingertip caressed her bare arm, and they both watched the goose bumps as they popped up in the finger’s wake.
“I’m really glad we met up on this trip. I’ve enjoyed myself more than I thought I would.” His voice was low and husky, and Charlie stifled every desire she had.
“Me too.” His eyes were glazing over, and Charlie felt the need to set him straight. “Um, Les?” His gaze snapped up to her eyes, regaining focus. “I really need you t
o understand you can’t start anything with me.” She watched the light die out of his eyes, and something inside her broke knowing she was doing this to him. “I mean, I really like you, and you’re very attractive…” Understatement of the century. She felt more for Les than just friendship, and that scared the hell out of her, and she found him way more than attractive. But she was too damaged, and that was why she lied to him next. “But we can’t be more than friends. Honestly. I can’t do anything more with you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” He’d stopped touching her, and she felt the absence as a palpable entity at the bar.
“Can’t. I’m incapable of more than friendship or sex. I’m not wired that way. I’m sorry.” She had to clear the air before the wedding, where listening to other people pledge their undying love to one another would give him ideas.
He leaned back in his bar stool, crossing one ankle over the other knee, pursing his lips in thought, and rubbing his chin. She watched him warily as he decided what to say next. His eyes raked over her body, and she allowed it, almost feeling his gaze as warmth washed over her.
“What if all I want is sex?” How many drinks did he have before she got here? This side of Les was one she hadn’t seen much on the trip. She’d been used to his double-entendres on the phone with the business, and his completely filthy side during his late-night phone calls totally turned her on. But seeing him now, in the delicious flesh saying the word sex was doing her in. When sex rolled off his tongue, it sounded like a sinful dessert, like something she could lounge in all day. Like something she wanted so badly she could taste it.
She found her gaze traveling over his body, imagining the possibilities, before snapping back up to his face. He’d said it himself. His anthem was fool for love.
“You don’t, though, Les. You want the whole package, and you’d only get hurt in the process.”
His face became a mask of blankness as he sat up and finished his drink. “Okay. You win this round.” Motioning for two more drinks, he looked at her again, pain in his eyes, but the rest of his face controlled. “But I’m not finished with you, yet.”
The next round of drinks came, and they drank them in awkward silence. Charlie resisted the urge to further explain her position in an attempt to make him stop trying. She wasn’t sure how long she could resist him if he turned on the charm full blast, and she knew his heart, as well as hers, was in danger.
The wedding was nice, as only a wedding full of strangers could be. She and Les were seated on the groom’s side, and Charlie looked around, seeing a sea full of strangers. The ceremony was blessedly short, and Charlie tried not to think about it much, preferring to sing hip-hop songs in her head. If her mind went down that morbid road, she was liable to have another breakdown, and she couldn’t do that. Les would probably leave her here and take a plane home.
And that thought distressed her more than she cared to admit.
The reception was held at the hotel where they were staying, and Les and Charlie found a table near the stage where Les would play after the DJ was finished for the evening. The sat through the standards—the first dance, the garter toss, the bouquet toss—all the stuff that made Charlie’s stomach roil. Leaning closer to Les, she asked, “Is this her first wedding?”
“Yeah, I think so. That’s why all the rigmarole. Lance seems to really love this one though. He’s enjoying himself.”
She looked, and sure enough Les seemed right. Lance was cradling the bride in her enormous poufy gown on the dance floor looking adoringly into her eyes. A shiver went through Charlie, and she didn’t know why. Rapper’s Delight started up in her head just as a group of men sat at their table, laughing and slapping each other’s backs. The one sitting next to Charlie was blond and instantly reminded her of Justin. He flashed an arrogant, dimply smile at her that at one time would have made her grab his hand and drag him off to a deserted room. But not tonight. She tossed him a thin-lipped smile back, trying to discourage attention, but not wanting to be rude.
“Dance with me?” Les was asking, the earnest expression back on his face. He looked like a puppy dog begging for a walk.
She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Les.”
“Come on. It’s a dance; I’m not going to make a pass.”
Not wanting to cause a scene or hurt his feelings, she didn’t mention that a dance was a pass, in her mind. Besides, she sort of wanted to feel his arms around her again, but didn’t want to think about the implications of that desire.
He led her to the dance floor and encircled her in his arms. The feeling of belonging came back, and Charlie inhaled deeply as she settled her head on his shoulder. His hands on her waist and his sandalwood scent brought her an infinite peace she was unfamiliar with. She’d never had this with anyone, and knew exactly what it would lead to—expectations she couldn’t fulfill.
The song was a slow one, and Les hummed in her ear in his soothing voice, low and smooth, as he expertly led her around the floor. She succumbed to the emotions that were warring inside her, telling herself this was it. After this dance, she wouldn’t touch him again. His heart beat against her chest, reminding her of the fragility of men’s emotions. Justin was an example of that. She couldn’t let Les get to that point with her.
Adam had been it—her one true love, and she’d messed that up. Charlie had only done what The Man and her own parents had taught her. She’d been selfish with Adam’s attention, even after the baby had come. Adam had married her because he’d felt trapped into it, and then when she’d had their son, she’d only demanded more and more of his attention until he’d snapped and left her alone.
Charlie didn’t know the first thing about relationships. And she couldn’t break Les the way she’d broken Adam.
“I think I’m up next,” Les murmured in her ear, the warmth of his breath caressing her goodbye as he squeezed her hips and released her. She nodded, her voice gone, before returning to their table.
The blond was grinning at her wickedly, and she silently returned to her seat next to him while Les carried his guitar lovingly as he strode confidently to the mic that had been set up for him. Charlie settled in for a night of listening to Les sing and play, eager for the distraction.
He was really good, playing for an audience. Charlie realized he had a presence on stage that she hadn’t previously seen. Before, he’d just been messing around, maybe even trying to impress her. But now, he was performing, and there was a huge difference. His voice was clearer, his fingers more purposeful. He had a charisma that shone from his little chair on the stage. He was marvelous.
Les started out with his standards while the audience watched appreciatively, smiles on their faces. Then he started to mix it up a bit, throwing in a few newer songs, songs that he’d obviously arranged himself from a full band accompaniment to a single acoustic guitar. And he did it effectively. Charlie was impressed, almost spellbound as his voice washed over her. Everyone else disappeared into the background, and she could pretend this was a private concert, just for her.
The group of men sharing her table, though, were getting increasingly drunker and more boisterous, pulling her attention away from her fantasies of a private performance with their snowballing rowdiness. The blond’s gaze raked over her arms, leaving a trail of slime in their wake.
“Nice sleeves. You look like the kind of girl who likes a good time.” She shrugged, trying to refocus her attention on Les, but his finger on her thigh jerked her attention back to him. “What’s this one?”
She slapped his hand away. The “RE” of her “Les is More” tattoo was peeking out, and she wasn’t about to raise her skirt to show him the rest. Asshole. Thankfully, they left, judging by the cloud surrounding their return, to smoke expensive cigars and hit something harder than champagne. Charlie did her best to ignore them.
Eventually, people got tired of just watching and went back onto the dance floor while Les played. Charlie watched the various couples dancing to Les’s m
usic, trying not to get maudlin. Coming to this had been a mistake. Her glance landed on Les, and he winked at her before sliding into his next piece, a slow familiar melody with no words he’d played before.
The blond walked in front of her, blocking her view of Les.
“Hey, babe.” His clipped words made babe sound like beb and she smiled to herself. He was wearing a shiny suit that may have been in style in Santa Barbara, but in Serendipity, it would look like plastic on a used car salesman.
“Hey.”
“Wanna dance?” He was standing in front of her, feet planted wide apart, hands on his hips, as if not taking no for an answer. After the night she’d had, Charlie was up for the challenge.
She smiled. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“Come on, just one?” he wheedled.
A firmer, “No thank you.”
“Too good for me? You look at me and make a judgment like that? Who do you think you are?” Mumbling drunkenly, “Thinks she’s a badass with all those fucking tats…”
Her eyes flicked past him to see Les watching them intently, still softly strumming. She gave him a reassuring nod. “I’m here with someone else and you’re being rude.” He was being an asshole, but she didn’t know anybody here. This could be Lance’s brother for all she knew.
A sneer transformed the man’s face. “Rude?” He reached down, and before she’d realized it, he’d yanked her up against him. Charlie’s body filled with panic at the sudden loss of control of the situation. Her heart pounded, and a sweat instantaneously broke out on her skin. “I’m just here to have a good time,” he snarled.
“Let go of me…” Her voice was a whimper the man either didn’t hear or chose to ignore. She was suddenly in a different place.
Come on sweetheart. Let’s have a good time.
