Everything else faded away as I felt the skin of his palm press against me. My breath was shaky as I gulped down cold mountain air and thought, Ohmygod.
A car pulled into the lot, but I barely noticed because I was flustered by the intimacy of Charlie’s hand. The slide of his big fingers around mine, the heat of his skin; it felt far more risqué than just holding hands.
This was Charlie, and this was pretend, but the racing of my heart and the butterflies in my stomach meant a tiny part of my body had apparently missed the message.
“This is a little jarring, don’t you think?” I asked, looking up into his brown eyes under the golden glow of the streetlight. “It feels like I should be smacking your hand and telling you to knock it off.”
“Totally.” He laughed, and I liked the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned down at me, like we were the only two people in the world sharing this absurd joke. “I kind of thought you might junk-punch me out of habit.”
“I’ve never junk-punched you,” I said around a smile.
“I’ve never tried holding your hand before, though, so…”
“Fair,” I agreed, and it occurred to me at that moment that I wasn’t emotionally prepared for this… electricity. My head knew we were going to be pretending all weekend, but I hadn’t anticipated the sparks that would go off when he smiled at me like that.
This would take some getting used to.
“So what exactly did your mom say?” he asked.
Move on, Bay—this is Charlie.
“She was pretty heated.” I told him what she said, but instead of driving around, we decided to walk to the cute coffee shop we’d seen when we pulled into town. We grabbed our jackets out of the back seat and strolled, and even though it was a little chilly, it was one of those perfect autumn nights where as long as you were moving, it was comfortable.
“I’m starving,” Charlie said as we sat down at a table. “Maybe we should get food before we head back.”
“No. My mom said after they booked the trip that the kitchen would be fully stocked and we can make whatever we want.” I took off the lid to let my mocha cool and said, “I don’t need to do something else to piss her off, so let’s just eat their food when we’re allowed to return.”
He wrapped his big hands around his cup and muttered, “Okay.”
“You’re not stressed about Scott, are you?” I asked. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once the shock wears off.”
“I’m not worried,” he said, unzipping his coat. “I just hope he’s not the level of asshole who ruins your mom’s vacation by being a pouty dick.”
“See, that’s what really stresses me out about our plan.” I slid the cup sleeve down as I tried coming to terms with the fact that there was really no way for us to disturb Scott without it affecting my mother’s trip too. “I don’t want my mom to be unhappy, and if my plans work, she’ll be unhappy in the short-term.”
“But,” he said, lifting his cup off the table and giving me a serious look, “if she’s happy, you’re not. Look out for number one, Glasses.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound like a mobster.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a compliment.”
“Says you.” He took a gulp of his coffee, set down his cup, and said, “Let’s talk about our fake dating.”
“Yeah, I suppose we should,” I said, nerves fluttering in my stomach at the prospect. I sipped at my drink and asked, “Do you have a plan?”
“Not a plan, per se,” he said, “but an idea.”
He leaned closer, and it occurred to me that Enthusiastic Charlie was one of my favorite versions of him. His eyes were practically dancing as he said, “Here’s what I’m thinking. When Scott accepts that I’m here, we return to the condo. Shortly thereafter, when he’s dealing with the unfortunate existence of my presence, we hold hands. That will send up all the what-the-fuck flags, and that’s probably good for tonight.”
I was horrified, and terrified, but he somehow managed to make me cough out a laugh as I pictured Scott’s reaction. “I kind of feel bad for poor Scott.”
“Poor Scott indeed,” he agreed, his mouth in a big grin. “Unless—do you think we should do more?”
“More?” I asked, my laugh settling into a smile as I let my eyes drink in Happy Charlie.
“More,” he said, his eyes locking into mine, his mischievous smile morphing into something more intense, “than hand-holding.”
I don’t know what got into me, but I lifted my chin and asked, “What kind of more are you thinking?”
“Bailey Rose,” he said, his voice lowering to a hot rumble as his mouth stayed in a sexy smirk. “Are you asking me to list the types of PDA we can throw at Scotty?”
My phone buzzed, making my heart leap in my chest. Dear God, what in flirtation was that? I pulled it out of my pocket and yes—it was my mom.
I talked to Scott, and he’s okay with Charlie being here IN CONCEPT, but we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules.
Relief rolled through me, relief that they weren’t going to make Charlie drive back alone or stay at a motel by himself for the weekend.
“Look,” I said, holding out the phone, trying to read his mind as he read the text. He didn’t look like anything other than normal Charlie, so perhaps the moment I’d imagined was just him clinically considering our next steps, PDA-wise.
“I almost feel sorry for them,” he said, the smile returning to his face. “They think we’re only friends, but they still need to guarantee—because they’re responsible adults—that we’re painfully aware that we can’t sneak into each other’s bed and bang one out in the Rockies.”
“Oh my God.” I laughed, horrified as always by the shocking pictures Charlie liked to paint.
He was a damned artist that way.
He continued, grinning like a fool. “They’ll lay down those rules, we’ll agree, and they’ll feel great about themselves. And then… dun dun dunnnnn—they’ll witness us holding hands and snuggling on the couch. They’re going to lose their shit.”
I laughed, but snuggling on the couch? The thought of that made my palms sweaty and my stomach light. Charlie’s hands on me? My body curled against his body?
Gah—snuggling with Charlie Sampson seemed dangerous, like an activity I should avoid at all costs.
But that was just me—I wasn’t cut out for fake dating. I was the kind of person who didn’t even like hugging family members, so how on earth was I going to snuggle with Charlie?
“Right?” he asked, looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I realized I’d drifted away into my own thoughts, so I gave a tiny nod and said, “Yes. Right.”
He smirked like he knew what I’d been thinking, which was impossible. He couldn’t have known, yet the glimmer in his eye made me wonder if he’d been thinking about couch snuggling as well.
“Grab your coat, then,” he said, and I realized he must’ve asked me if I was ready to go.