Charlie is a mess, but so is Dev, and he can’t believe they found each other on this ridiculous show about fairy-tale love.
* * *
“So…” She smirks over her mug of coffee. “How was it?”
“Shush,” he hisses. His eyes dart to Jules’s closed bedroom door. “Don’t be gross, Parisa.”
“I’m not being gross. I’m being supportive.” Parisa props a hip against the counter and reaches for a muffin. “I tell you about all my hookups.”
“I never asked you to be so forthcoming and would actually prefer you stop.”
Parisa has the decency to at least lower her voice. “I’m not asking for all the gory details here. Just—did you have sex?”
He sips his tea and tries not to blush at the memory. “I mean, we, um—but not that.”
Parisa punches his arm. “Oh my God, Charles, work my pussy out.”
He chokes on his lemon ginger. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry. You’re not quite there yet.” She dials it back. “I just mean I’m proud of you. I’m sure it took a lot of courage to let yourself be vulnerable like that with someone.”
Charlie studies her across the kitchen and thinks about what Dev said last night, about already seeing him. He realizes Parisa already sees him, too. “Thank you.”
“So why didn’t you have penetrative sex? Do you need me to draw you a diagram of where things go, or—？”
“I seriously hate you.”
“You love me.”
“I’m sending you home now.”
“But then who will help coordinate your special surprise for your boyfr—Good morning!”
Charlie is kicking Parisa’s shin when Dev walks into the kitchen. Somehow, just the sight of him in black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower, is enough to send a shiver across Charlie’s bare arms. He can almost feel Dev’s hands on his hipbones, keeping him pinned to the bed as he—
Charlie clears his throat. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Dev grumbles as he moves toward the French press without making eye contact.
Parisa just can’t help herself. “Sleep well, Dev?”
He startles as he attempts to pour the coffee. He darts his eyes between Parisa’s smug grin and Charlie’s telling blush. “Slept okay, thanks.”
Parisa rolls her eyes, clearly disappointed by her inability to fluster Dev. “Fine. I’ll just go see if Jules is ready.”
As soon as she’s gone, Dev steps closer. “So, she knows—”
“Everything,” Charlie blurts, biting his bottom lip. “She knows everything. I’m sorry.”
Dev scrubs a hand across his freshly shaved face. “And she doesn’t care?”
“No,” Charlie says. “She doesn’t think it’s a big deal.”
A sullen look flashes across Dev’s face, and Charlie hears what he said. “Not like that.” He reaches out for Dev’s waist, pulls them together. “Parisa just wants me to be happy.”
Charlie kisses Dev, tastes the first sip of morning coffee on his tongue. Dev deepens it, runs his fingers through Charlie’s hair, until Charlie’s on his tiptoes, and they’re pressed against the hotel refrigerator, and Charlie is two seconds away from saying fuck it to today’s Group Quest and the six women and this entire show because all he wants is to drag Dev back to their bed and get lost in his perfect body, and he didn’t know, had no idea, it was possible to feel this way about another person.