Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Bess

“ W e’re not doing this,” I told him as soon as we stepped inside the cabin. “I’ll just… get changed.” My voice lacked conviction, but I’d made up my mind. As much as I enjoyed the jokes and his poorly disguised interest in my body, I had my limits. Prancing around in ugly swimsuits for Charlie Wilde was not an option.

I ran up the stairs. I couldn’t get changed in the loft as it had no privacy. Even the glass-walled bathroom felt too open to his prying eyes, but what choice did I have? I could fake an illness or cancel, but Charlie had practically announced my arrival and part of me felt stubborn enough to show up as I was to enjoy the hot water under the stars. Where could I experience that ever again?

I grabbed both swimsuits and my towel, and hurried back downstairs. Reaching for the bathroom door, I glanced over my shoulder and froze. Charlie stood by the bed in his underwear, holding a pair of swimming shorts. Earlier in the shop, he’d gifted me with the mental image of his perfect torso, and now his impeccably muscular legs caught my attention.

“Sorry,” I muttered, whipping around, and retreating into the bathroom.

“What are you sorry about?” he asked, his voice carrying through the glass door, clear and loud.

Couldn't they have soundproofed the bathroom a little bit?

“I… didn’t know you were changing down here,” I replied from behind the door, quickly peeling off my clothes and pulling on my black, two-piece suit.

Bracing myself, I turned towards the mirror. It was hung too high for me to see the full ensemble, but I could feel it didn’t fit. The bikini bottoms were originally a pair of modest briefs, but the elastic had given up completely, leaving saggy fabric around the crotch. There was enough loose material to smuggle a coconut. I couldn’t wear them. I simply couldn’t.

I took off the horrible briefs and wiggled myself into the lime-ruffled one-piece. The bottom part of it fit surprisingly well, but the rest was designed for a shorter torso. No matter how I pulled and stretched and adjusted the straps, I couldn’t properly cover up my breasts. The material ended right above my nipples, leaving the rest bulging out, my cleavage so on display I could have held all of Charlie’s credit cards in there. The ruffles that lined the plunging neckline only added to the effect. How had I not noticed this in the shop?

I stared into the mirror, willing myself not to cry.

“You okay in there?” Charlie called from behind the door.

On a whim, I took a breath and opened the door. “No.”

“Whoa!” His eyes went exactly where I knew they would, and I gave the suit another upwards yank, which turned into a wedgie at the other end.

“What’s wrong?” He’d already changed into his own swimming trunks and looked like a male model ready for the beach shoot.

“It doesn’t fit.” My voice wobbled. “And the other one… the bottoms are so loose they’ll flap on me.”

“Does that matter, though? They’ll be under water.”

I sighed. Maybe the ugly bottoms were the lesser of two evils. I closed the door and quickly wiggled myself back into my own two-piece. When I opened the door again, I found Charlie outside, smiling victoriously. “I was hoping for high heels, but all good.”

I squeezed my eyes closed, mortified. I was giving him the exact show I’d sworn I wouldn’t. In ill-fitting swimsuits, no less.

I picked at the loose material sitting on my lower belly and winced.

Charlie cocked his head, still staring at me so intensely my skin sizzled. “So… did you accidentally buy men’s trunks?”

I shook my head, an unexpected laugh bubbling in my chest. “They’re just stretched out of shape.”

“Let’s swap.” Charlie wedged a thumb under the waistband of his trunks and stretched the elastic. “You can wear these and I’ll wear your bottoms.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’ve got the goods to actually fill that front pouch of yours.”

I stared at the Patagonia logo on the hem of the turquoise trunks. Before I could form an intelligent response, he’d pulled them off right in front of me. I swiveled around, but not fast enough. Not before I registered the sight of his penis. Charlie’s penis. Why was I seeing Charlie’s penis? “What are you doing?”

“Sorry. I’m one-quarter Swedish.”

“How does that explain you stripping in front of me?” I asked, my voice cracking a bit. Were Swedes particularly well-hung, or was he also one-quarter horse?

“I don’t think nudity is such a big deal. I think it’s the sauna culture.” He tapped me on the shoulder. “You can turn around.”

He’d wrapped a towel around his waist and handed me the swimming trunks. They felt silky soft and looked beautiful.

“What if I stretch them out of shape?”

“With that ass?” His gaze flicked down my body and my cheeks heated. “You won’t, but I will stretch yours, so let’s make a deal. No returns.”

“That’s not a fair deal for you.”

“I haven’t seen your employment contract, but I don’t think a pair of swimming trunks will tip the scales in your favor.”

His words landed like a soft punch to my middle. With no arguments, I took the shorts and stepped back into the bathroom. To my surprise, they fit me perfectly, elevating my black halter-neck swimming top to a whole new league. I opened the door, this time more confident.

Charlie whistled. “Perfect! Ten out of ten.”

I adjusted the halter-neck, cheeks burning. “They’re really comfortable.”

The look on his face caught me by surprise. Just like Jack. Unfocused and excited, his eyes all over me, struggling to stay on my face. The sudden thought brought up a twinge of pain and longing. Was it even possible Charlie Wilde was looking at me like that? Maybe I’d been alone for so long I was starting to hallucinate.

I handed him my awful bikini bottoms. “You’ll regret this.”

Charlie pulled them on underneath the towel. This time, I didn’t turn away, my gaze pinned at his waist, willing for that loosely folded towel to slide open. If he wasn’t bothered by his own nudity, I might as well enjoy it.

Finally, the towel dropped, revealing a pair of the most snug and ill-fitting trunks I’d ever seen. Charlie adjusted the crotch, desperately trying to capture his jewels inside the material that could neither contain nor support them.

“Well, the crotch doesn’t look so baggy anymore,” I said, biting back my laughter.

“I’ll be peeking out of these, but that’s okay.”

“You can’t wear those. I’ll get changed?—”

I was about to go back into the bathroom when he grabbed my arm. “Enough changing. Enough. Let’s go.”

He handed me a fluffy bathrobe and wrapped himself in another one, pulling me by the hand.

At the door, I halted. “Wait! What time is it? I should call Celia. What if she’s asleep by the time we come back?”

“It’s eight p.m.” Charlie released my arm. “Make the call. I’ll find us some drinks.”

I fetched my phone from its charger. I thought about going upstairs, but Charlie would have heard me anyway, so I just dialed. Mom answered on the first ring.

“Hey Bess! We’re about to have dinner.”

“I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to say good night. I’m heading off to test the hot tub.”

“The hot tub under the stars?” I could tell Charlie heard Mom’s loud excitement.

“Yep.”

Mom put Celia on the phone, and she babbled for a while about her day, who she’d played with and who’d been naughty. By the time I finished the call, I had tears in my eyes. Saying ‘hugs and kisses’ without being able to hug and kiss your child was a special form of torture.

“You okay?” Charlie’s voice was soft when I finally joined him at the door.

“I just miss her.”

“You’ll be back home soon.”

He was holding two Biased craft beers. An instant memory of photoshopping them for a billboard emerged.

I nodded at the bottle. “Do you actually like that stuff or is your own advertising so powerful you can’t help it?”

Charlie chuckled. “I have a lot of samples left. It’s drinkable.”

With towels under our arms and our feet in complimentary slippers, we made it down the steps and into the dark night. With the help of Charlie’s flashlight, we followed the signage around the main building and down a narrow path that turned into steep steps. And there it was—a huge pool of steaming water sitting outside a small cabin, partly shaded by small pines. The cabin porch had rows of fairy lights illuminating the view, but they hardly compared to the glow of the starry sky above. The crescent moon hung low, right above the tree line. And to my huge relief, there was nobody else around.

“This is so perfect,” I whispered.

“Worth all the wardrobe drama, right?”

I heard sounds from behind us. “Sure. But you might want to get into the tub before anyone else arrives.”

“Damn right.” Charlie hurried down the last steps, ditched his robe and towel on a nearby bench and climbed in, holding beer bottles in one hand and his crotch in the other.

I laughed. His willingness to humiliate himself made me like him more.

By the time I joined Charlie at the tub, the darkness spat out three women, including Miranda. We’d taken a long time changing in and out of horrible swimsuits. How had they taken this long?

That’s when I noticed the slight wobble in Miranda’s step. They must have been drinking.

I greeted them with a smile and quickly folded my robe next to Charlie’s. The cold was digging deep into my bones and all I could think of was getting in the tub. The water felt heavenly on my skin, momentarily pushing all thoughts out of my head. My deep sigh turned into a faint moan.

“I told you she likes tubs,” I heard Charlie say.

I cracked my eyelids, just in time to see his arm slide over my shoulders. Ah, yes. The girlfriend act. At least I didn’t jump this time as he pulled me closer.

“Sorry to break up your party,” Miranda said, sliding into the pool.

The golden detailing of her bikini twinkled in the low light. The other two ladies introduced themselves as Angie and Kathryn. Within seconds, I heard male voices as Matthew and Harry arrived. The tub was at capacity.

Charlie scooted closer to me to make room for everyone else.

“Is this a six-person pool or eight?” Harry asked.

Matthew’s voice rose in concern. “Do you think we’re over capacity?”

“I’d offer to take Matthew in my lap to make more room, but he’s a big guy…” He rolled his eyes, casting a look at me and Charlie.

“Noted,” Charlie said, turning to me. “Come here, babe.”

He lifted me onto his lap and everyone else shuffled to take up more room. A collective sigh of relief traveled across the water.

“I’m sorry about the wooden seat,” he whispered into my ear as the rock-hard erection lodged between my butt cheeks.

What was I supposed to do now? A chilly breeze tickled my scalp. My bones were still warning up. I didn’t want to get out. Not now. Not ever.

I’d have to ignore that boner. It was just biology. It wasn’t about me. He was probably turned on by all the women around the pool, batting their eyelashes at him. And even if it was me, this was as far as we’d ever go. Wearing each other’s swimming suits and playing for an audience.

Charlie reached over the edge of the tub to grab the beer he’d set down a moment ago. As he moved under my butt, I grabbed the edge of the seat to keep from sliding off his lap. But as his legs spread wider, so did mine. Great. I was now straddling his thigh, and that erection rubbed against the apex of my thighs. “Here’s yours,” he said, offering me the other beer bottle.

My stomach tightened. “I… can’t drink beer.”

“What do you mean, can’t?”

I glanced around us to make sure nobody was actively listening. The others seemed to have fallen into a conversation about tomorrow’s wilderness excursion and the possibility of wildlife sightings this time of year.

I shifted on Charlie’s lap so that I could look at him over my shoulder, trying to ignore the fireworks in my core. “I can’t burp,” I whispered. “That’s why I can’t drink beer.”

“What?” His volume climbed up. “That’s not a thing. Is it?”

“It’s real. No burp syndrome.”

“No burb what?” asked Harry, leaning in. The bear and elk conversation must have run its course.

“It has a medical name, but I can’t remember. Retrograde something. I’ve had it my whole life. I’m okay if I avoid certain foods and drinks and don’t eat too late. Beer is the worst.”

“And your boyfriend didn’t know this about you?” Harry looked at me in disbelief. “Has he never shared his beer before?” He shot a dirty look at Charlie.

“I mean, I knew it, but I didn’t know it was like a medical thing,” Charlie improvised, softly grazing my cheek with the cold beer bottle. “I just thought you didn’t like beer.”

Harry stared at the two bottles he was still holding. “Why did you bring her a beer, then?”

“Yeah, why Charlie?” I raised my eyebrows at him, biting my lip. “You could have brought something I can drink, like white wine with no bubbles.” I turned back to Harry with a knowing look. “I think you called it. He wanted to drink two beers and not share.”

Harry laughed. Charlie didn’t.

“I have a wine bottle in the cabin. I’ll go get it.” He slid away from underneath me and launched towards the steps, but froze. “Except… I think I just lost my swimming trunks.”

My involuntary yelp caught everyone’s attention.

“What’s happening?” Miranda’s head whipped around.

“I think Charlie’s going commando,” Harry explained to Matthew, beaming with glee.

Everyone’s eyes widened. Charlie cast me a meaningful look before addressing them. “It’s true. I was wearing Bess’s bikini bottoms, on a dare, and let’s just say they’re now ripped in half and riding down my left leg. And did I mention I need to get out of the pool to fetch her a drink, because I’m still a gentleman.”

The entire party erupted in giggles.

“This is better than reality TV!” Harry guffawed.

“I don’t suppose you’d all agree to close your eyes for a few seconds so I could…” Charlie tried when the laughter fizzled out and was met by another bout of hysterical howls.

“I’ll close my eyes, promise,” Harry hiccupped, closing one eye.

I grabbed Charlie’s arm under water and tried to pull him back. “I don’t need a drink. Honestly.”

“I’m going to get you one.”

I scooted closer to whisper into his ear. “I’ll give you the pair I’m wearing, if you promise to bring them back.” I winced at the thought. It was the last thing I wanted to do but couldn’t let him go through with this.

Charlie’s eyes flashed. “No backsies, remember? I’ll get you that drink.”

He reached for the handrails and pulled himself out of the pool. I couldn’t tear my eyes off him, and neither could anybody else. Backlit by the fairy lights, with a soft moonlight bouncing off his buttocks, Charlie was a sight to behold. He landed softly on the ground and leapt to pick up his towel.

My foot touched something floating in the water. The broken bikini bottoms. I fished them out and tossed them at Charlie. I have a terrible aim, so I didn’t even worry about hitting anything. But as luck would have it, the wet piece of material slapped him square on the lower back and he jumped, dropping the towel.

“I’m so sorry,” I gasped.

The ladies cheered and Harry whistled. Charlie picked up the towel again, tied it around his waist and slowly turned around, giving us a bow. “Ladies and gentlemen.”

“Why do I never have dollar bills when I need them?” Harry moaned.

Charlie took it in his stride, smiling and blowing kisses. There was no embarrassing this guy. I would have been mortified if I’d lost my bottoms in the water. Hell, I’d been mortified by the thought of people seeing my bikini bottoms. He’d known it, too, and made sure it didn’t happen.

“I’ll be back soon, Bessie-Boo.”

He caught me by surprise, pulling my head back against the edge of the pool. Before I could react, his lips were on mine, hot and demanding. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it seized my body. For a moment, my lips weren’t mine. My mind evaporated into the night sky. All I could think was the absolute takeover. Charlie’s lips on mine. His breath on my face. His scent in my nostrils. It made no sense. His fist tightened against my scalp, teasing the nerve endings. And then it was over.

His rough stubble grazed my cheek as he pulled away, smiling. “I’ll miss you.”

I was grateful for the general darkness and the fact most of me was hiding in bubbly water.

“He’s a keeper,” Harry said with a dreamy smile as Charlie threw on his bathrobe and slippers and hurried up the steps, disappearing into the dark night. “How long have you guys been together?”

Miranda leaned in, her eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“It’s pretty new,” I said.

The closer to the truth I stayed, the easier this would be.

“How did you guys meet?” Miranda asked, leaning forward.

“At work.”

If I kept my answers short, I’d avoid saying anything incriminating.

“So, you work at Wilde Creative? What do you do?”

“Production.”

“Really? That’s how I started, years ago. It was so boring. Are you looking to move up to a creative role? Good to know someone on the inside.” She nodded at the direction Charlie had disappeared into.

I felt bile rising in my throat. Was she insinuating I was dating Charlie to advance my career?

A woman with a cloud of wild, blond curls, one who’d introduced herself as Angie, shifted closer. “I would marry Charlie for the family jet.” Her laughter sounded like tiny little bells.

I gave her a little smile. She looked younger than Miranda. More innocent. I’d heard about the jet, but I’d never seen it. Only Trevor had ever been invited on it, much to Teresa’s chagrin.

“I know Charlie from the awards,” Angie continued. “We get tickets through work every year, even though I’ve never been nominated. But I’ve seen Charlie on stage so many times. He bought us drinks once. Like, everyone at the after party.”

I could imagine Charlie there, waving his credit card, fighting off the girls. All those women gunning to become Mrs. Wilde. To live the easy life at his expense.

“He’s pretty generous,” I admitted.

“He is! Play your cards right and you won’t have to work at all. You can just fly around the world and organize parties.”

My body tensed. “I’d rather work. I have a daughter and I need to be independent, for her.” I couldn’t let them paint me as this gold-digging woman.

“Good for you.” Miranda patted my shoulder. “How old is your daughter?”

“Five.”

“Starting school soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I never imagined Charlie with a single mom. That’s so cool.” Angie sighed.

Oh, God. I’d have to tell Charlie he was officially dating a single mom. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t survive this interrogation without something slipping out. Where was Charlie? How long could it take to fetch one wine bottle?

“Well, I’m off,” Angie stood up, wading towards the steps. “But before I go, please tell me how you snatched Charlie Wilde? I mean… give me a hint? Did you go to work in a see-through shirt or something?”

Oh, the horror.

“No. We just… worked late.”

She cocked her head as if trying to picture it. “But who initiated it?”

“Charlie.” My response was instant because it was true. I would have never made a move on Charlie. I couldn’t even imagine us hooking up in his office, no matter how hard I tried.

“Really?” Miranda sounded surprised.

She probably didn’t believe me, but there was nothing I could do about it. The more I told them, the less believable it sounded. I needed to shut up, right now.

“Well, I’m off as well. I have a massage appointment.” She followed Angie out of the pool.

Kathryn joined them, giving me a smile. The ladies evidently moved as a pack.

“I have one tomorrow!” Harry exclaimed. “Can’t wait.”

I stretched my achy neck, wondering if I’d ever be able to spend money on that sort of thing. I was getting a little overheated, so I climbed up to sit on the edge of the pool. The guys seemed to have a similar reaction since they got out, too.

Harry and Matthew were still toweling themselves by the tub when Charlie reappeared, holding a bottle of wine and a huge wine glass. “Are you all leaving?”

“Enjoy the privacy.” Harry winked, edging past him towards the stairs.

Matthew followed him, leaving me alone with Charlie. Feeling the chill on my skin, I slid back into the water, sighing from relief. No more questions and mind games. I wasn’t cut out for this fake dating.

A glass of white wine appeared next to my head. “Here you go, darling.”

“Thank you.” I took a sip, enjoying the sensation of hot water against my skin and cold drink traveling down my throat. “But you can drop the act now. We’re alone.”

Charlie peeled off his robe, revealing a pair of boxer shorts. “What act?” He joined me in the tub, sitting right next to me. “This is not an act. This is me being a gentleman.”

“Very gentlemanly, thank you.” I sipped the wine. It was so good I had to wonder how much it might have cost. “But you shouldn’t have left me here on my own. I was interrogated!”

“Really? About what?”

I huffed. “About us. They’re all fascinated by the idea of you going out with someone like me.”

He gave me an odd look, tilting his beer bottle to his lips. “Someone like… what? You’re beautiful and age appropriate.”

I took a deep breath, dismissing the word ‘beautiful’. “I’m a single mom. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told them. I just couldn’t handle them hinting I was sleeping my way to the top.”

Mid-drink, he spat out his beer. “Hinting what?”

I didn’t feel like repeating it, so I waited for the words to sink in. He shook his head. “Well, that’s stupid. And what does that have to do with you being a mom?”

“I don’t know. I guess I wanted to make the point that I want to be independent for the sake of my daughter. I would never rely on a man like that.”

It’s not safe.

“That’s admirable. But don’t you think if you… fell in love and had someone in your life who really wanted to take care of you… don’t you think that could be nice?”

“Sure, but how can I know it will last? My girl’s already lost one father. I can’t put her through that again. Hypothetically.” I added the last word in a rush.

He wasn’t talking about us, or him. All this pretending was messing with my head.

“Hypothetically?”

“Well, I don’t date, so it’s not something I have to worry about.”

“Right.” Charlie tilted his head all the way to one side, regarding me with bemused interest. “But what if someone still falls in love with you?”

“You mean like my garbage man or the landlord?”

“Yeah, totally. You might throw out beautiful artwork and the garbage man sees it in the trash and falls head over heels.”

I laughed. “Yeah, seems plausible. Probable, even.”

“Talking about art… what did you think of the Thriver campaign? You prepped that first presentation for us, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “It looked great.”

“But…”

Could I tell him? He’d never understand. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “It sounded preachy and annoying.”

“Preachy and annoying?” He jerked back, hit by my words.

“Yeah, sort of.” I already regretted these words. “It’s peddling the idea that you can fix any financial issues by getting better at budgeting. That if you just plug the holes, the coffers will fill up again and everything will be fine.”

“And… it’s not true?” His question hung in the air, challenging me.

I bit my lip, wondering if I’d gone too far. It was because of Jack that I knew anything about economic theories on poverty and everything I knew about rich guys told me this was a bad idea. I took a deep breath. Jack deserved to be understood, even if it was posthumously. “Did you ever see that Ted Talk about guaranteed basic income?”

He shook his head, staring at me, riveted. The quote popped into my head like a dusty old memory I’d accidentally dug up from the back of the storage. “Poverty is not a lack of character. It’s a lack of cash.”

I expected him to disagree, to challenge me, or call me a communist. But his face split into a grin. “Well, you tell me you’re broke and you definitely don’t lack character.”

Buoyed by his encouragement, I continued, keeping my eyes on the wineglass. “It was a fascinating talk. There was an example of farmers who made all their money during harvest, so they were rich around that time and then poor for the rest of the year. And their IQ went up 14 points when they got money.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Poverty can make you stupid.”

I felt his gaze on my skin. “You’re not stupid.”

“I could be smarter. And more creative.” The corner of my mouth twitched. My belly felt warm and fuzzy. “Actually, I feel like my brain’s been slowly turning on this week. It’s so different to my real life. All the amazing food and freedom to think. No running around. I feel so guilty to sit here and relax, but I also feel like I’m getting back something I lost. Maybe it’s IQ points.” I covered my face with my hands, to stop myself from continuing.

He was the boss’s son. What was I doing?

“Bess, that’s amazing.” His voice was so soft and excited it drew me out.

My hands dropped and I met his eyes. Those beautiful, glistening eyes that followed me, searching. He’d been looking at me, constantly, making me feel far more interesting than I really was.

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he said. “This fake dating… It never needed to go that far. I have no excuse, other than…” He bit his lower lip, looking simultaneously sheepish, incorrigible and unbearably hot.

“Apology accepted,” I said quickly.

Change the subject. Stop thinking about that kiss.

I tilted my glass, watching the fairy lights reflected on it.

We sat in silence, looking up at the starry sky. “Other than… what?” I finally asked. I couldn’t let it go.

Some deep, damaged part of me wanted the confirmation. I needed to hear that I wasn’t the only one feeling this utterly misguided desire, currently fueled by wine, warm water and the entire Milky Way stretching over our heads.

“Curiosity?” I guessed when he didn’t reply.

“No.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t curious.”

“No?” I tried to neutralize my face, to not show my hurt.

“No. I knew it’d be hot.” He grinned.

“So what’s your excuse?”

His eyes sparkled, reflecting the fairy lights. “Honestly… I was just thinking with my dick. Sorry about that.”

Wine sprayed out of my mouth, and a little from my nose. “Seriously? That’s your answer?”

“Do you not appreciate honesty?”

Something loosened in my belly and a shaky laughter erupted.

“Oh, Charlie.” The words escaped with my out-breath, but they didn’t hold the usual tone. More like acceptance.

I felt happy and wanted. I had to enjoy this feeling—it would go away so quickly; I knew it. Memories would twist out of shape, fade, and take on new meaning. Nothing would last. But if I held on tight, I could feel something sweet and delicious here, right now, hiding away from my daily life. Maybe the essence of it would linger like the faint smell of pine and chlorine. And wine.

I drank my wine, maybe a little too quickly, desperate to stay in that bubble.

“I do appreciate honesty,” I said. “And I didn’t mind the kiss. It crossed a line, but it didn’t leave a bad taste.”

“Did it taste like this beer? Because it’s actually very nice.” Charlie took a swig from his bottle. “Maybe that’s a way for you to taste beer without getting any bubbles down your throat?” He grinned, and my stomach responded by releasing a batch of hibernating butterflies. So old and frail they could barely fly, blindly bumping into each other.

I leaned in, ever so slightly, suddenly wanting nothing but to taste the beer from Charlie’s lips. It was all wrong, but the alcohol had entered my bloodstream, turning off my higher functioning, leaving hormones in charge. And according to them, I wanted to suck him like a popsicle. My gaze settled on the soft curve of his upper lip, following the shape of that slightly protruding lower lip. So perfectly pouty. He wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, he looked concerned.

“What is it?” I asked as my mind slowly registered the shift in his mood.

“I want to kiss you again, but I think we have a problem.”

“What problem?” I asked like an idiot. There were a thousand problems with me kissing Charlie.

“You dislike me, Bess.”