“If you say so.” I shrug once again, as if it doesn’t matter at all to me. “But either way, I wouldn’t dream of removing any of your clothing until you’re onboard with the idea. So we’re sharing the bed. And because I’m a gentleman, you can have the first turn in the bathroom.”
Silently, Charli gets up off the sofa. With a straight back and her head held high, she walks toward the bedroom.
Her cheeks are bright red now. She must be thinking about last night, because she looks a little hot and bothered.
Unfortunately, my dick notices, too, after we’re finally tucked into my extra-large bed. I shut off the light, and I’m all too aware of Charli nearby. And once again, the image of her crouched between my legs, her pink tongue running up and down my—
Nngh. Now I’m pitching a tent in my boxers and trying to ignore the scent of her minty shampoo from point-blank range.
Lying on my back, my hands folded on my chest, I let out a sigh. Two feet away, Charli lies in the same stoic position. The room is dark, and we’re both lying quietly, staring at the ceiling.
Last night I had my hands on her body. And my tongue. I must have started sobering up by the time we hit the sheets. Because although the wedding itself is a blur, I have flashes of memory for what came later.
Or to be more accurate, what almost came later.
“Neil,” Charli whispers.
“What?”
“Stop thinking about it.”
I smile in the dark. “How do you know what I’m thinking about?”
“You’re a man.”
The laugh escapes before I can stop it. “Really? You’re stereotyping me?”
“Am I wrong?”
“Um…” That shuts me up. “Okay. Good night.”
“’Night.”
Once again, I close my eyes. I try that meditation where you relax every part of your body in turn. But one part of my body is not relaxed, and I find myself wondering if there’s a meditation for killing a boner.
If Charli wasn’t here, I’d grab my phone and check.
No, that’s not true. If Charli wasn’t here, I’d take myself in hand and solve the problem the old-fashioned way.
Fuck.
A few more long minutes drag by. Maybe when Charli falls asleep, the sound of her deep breathing will calm me down.
But she’s not asleep yet. Eventually, I hear her let out a frustrated sigh. I’ll bet she’s feeling the same way I do right now.
At least, I hope she is.
“Hey,” I whisper. And I swear I was going to make a joke to lessen the tension. But instead, I hear myself ask, “Why didn’t you ever say you’re attracted to guys?”
“Because I knew it would get weird,” she says immediately.
I think that over for a second. “No way. It didn’t get weird until you pulled off my underwear and put my dick in your mouth.”
She groans. “What can I do to get you to stop bringing that up?”
“You could do it again.” Like a ninja I raise my arms just in time to fend off the projectile headed my way. Which turns out to be my favorite throw pillow. I tuck the pillow against my horny crotch and roll to get a better look at Charli. “Aren’t you a little curious, though? About how we’d be together?”
She rolls, too, but maintains a healthy distance between us. “Of course, I am. But it’s the same kind of curiosity I feel about car chases in movies. It’s dangerous, and I don’t need to try it to know it’s a bad idea.”
We blink at each other for a long beat. “Now, hang on,” I say, disagreeing, because I pride myself on being a decent guy. “I’m not dangerous.”
“Sure, you are,” she argues. “You’re dangerous in the way that Pringles are dangerous. One of them is fine, but before you know it, half the can is gone. I have to keep my distance or risk forming bad habits.”
I give her a cocky grin. “Did you just compare sex with me to a dehydrated potato snack?”
“Maybe I did. You’re both kind of cute and a bad idea.”
My laugh is loud in the quiet room. “So you are tempted. I knew it.”
“So what if I am?” she counters. “Temptation is everywhere. You’re an all-star athlete, Neil. Nobody has a lock on mind-over-matter more than you do.”
“Maybe.” I flop onto my back. “But thanks for admitting that I’m a temptation. My ego needed that. I didn’t want it to be all in my head. If you’re actually attracted to me, I’m perceptive instead of being a creep.”
She snorts. “Let me state for the record that I never thought of you as a creep. But either way, this thing between us is just something we’ll have to ignore.”
“Easy for you to say. I’m the one with the thing between us.” I gesture toward my erection. “I’ve got the hots for you and a dick that’s eager to prove himself after last night’s disasters.”
“Tell it to sit down.”
“Fine. You’re welcome to sit down on it.”
“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“But you know I’m right. This arrangement between us can’t function if you’re going to mope about sex and give me sad doggie eyes.”
“Oh, please. I don’t mope. And the only doggie you’d be getting from me is doggie style. But I’m a gentleman. So you’ll have to ask nicely.”
Charli laughs from her side of the bed. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“You sound pretty confident over there. But the evidence suggests that you can be as impulsive as I am.”
“Not often,” she insists. “That was your one big chance. Now you have to move on.”
I fold my hands on my chest. “Fine. I get it. Having you stay here was my idea, right? So I will suffer in silence.”
“This isn’t so bad. I could be home right now in my skanky apartment, trying to get my brother to leave and fending off advances from my creepiest cousin.” Her voice is flip, but I can tell those problems are weighing on her. “God, was this the longest day ever?”
“Yeah, it kind of was.” I reach across and hook her pinky finger in mine. I squeeze it, like the most low-contact hug.
She squeezes my pinky back. “What were we even thinking last night?”
“We were drunk,” I point out. “Drunkey drunk.”
“We were drinking from the cup of bad decisions. You’d just fought with Iris, and in your inebriation, you decided that I was going to be your rebound lay.”
“You still could be,” I whisper.
She ignores this. “Is this really it for Iris? Or are you going to go back to her as soon as we’re done scaring your family?”
“I’m never going back,” I insist. “I don’t know why she even showed up in Vegas. She hates both Vegas and hockey.”
“Why did you date her, anyway?” Charli presses. “I never understood you two as a couple.”
“I’ve known her since preschool,” I say by way of explanation. But the truth is we don’t make sense as a couple. It’s probably why we broke up no fewer than eight times in six years.