9. Charlie

Chapter 9

Charlie

I wake up with a jolt, finding myself in Ben’s unbelievably comfortable embrace. We are in my bed, the covers half-assedly thrown over us. He’s softly snoring. His face is peacefully beautiful, and I can’t help but press my lips to his nose for a quick peck.

I can’t believe I passed out. He fucked me so thoroughly I couldn’t think or do anything but let him have his way with me like I’d wanted to. It’s like he can just read my body, doing everything in such a way that maximizes my pleasure.

I stifle down a groan, my body singing. And the way he was so excited watching me play before we even got to the sex? Fuck, why is he so perfect?

“Why are you frowning, Charlie?” he says suddenly, cracking one green eye open. It shimmers with amusement. “You channeling your inner troll?”

I snort, swatting his hand away when he pinches my cheek. “You’re the troll. I’m an elf, if anything.”

He hums, flexing his triceps. “Ok, agreed. Though I think I’m more of an orc than a troll. So, what’s with the scowl?”

Why, nothing, Ben. I’m just having a hard time remembering I don’t believe in dating and love and that this is just sex.

As if I can say that.

“I’m hungry,” I tell him instead, sitting up and realizing he’s cleaned me up and put a pair of comfy boxers on me.

Fuck. Him. Grr.

Hopping up, he stretches. My eyes track the flex of his muscles, my fingers itching to touch them. “Me, too. You got any stuff in the fridge? I can whip up something. Unless you prefer takeout?”

I stare at him. I haven’t had homemade food in ages. I can make basic stuff, but I’m too lazy, plus shit tastes better when I order it. “There should be some meat in the freezer. And veggies in the fridge.”

He walks over to me, kissing my forehead. “I’ll make something. Go have a shower.”

Blinking, I watch him leave the room. My heart races fast and I fist the bedsheets to keep myself grounded. Don’t get carried away, Charlie . Remember, this is just sex. Besides, he’s probably a terrible cook.

Update: Ben is definitely not a bad cook. He’s made chicken and potato bake with white sauce. It tastes divine.

“Why can you actually cook?” I ask, moaning around a forkful of flavorful meat. “God, this is so fucking good.”

He shrugs. “I used to mostly eat out. But I got bored of how greasy and heavy everything was, so I started cooking my own food. Plus, it’s kind of fun experimenting.” He grins, swiping a bit of sauce off the corner of my lip. “Or having someone enjoy my meal so openly.”

I guess that makes sense. Trish and Greg stop by with homemade stuff once in a while, so I do get a break from takeouts. But I can see how you could get fed up with only restaurant food.

“You want to go catch a movie?” Ben asks after we eat in silence for a few minutes. He picks up his empty plate and eyes mine. “Are you done, or do you want seconds? I made enough so you have leftovers for tomorrow.”

My jaw goes slack as I stare at his fond smile. Why is he so fucking nice? I bet it looks like I’m doing hearty eyes at him… which wouldn’t be far from the truth. My ex didn’t cook for me, let alone care to make enough so I have food for the next day.

I wanna scream. But also hug Ben. And shake some sense into myself for getting so carried away. But he makes it so fucking easy, for no reason. Like, seriously, who does this kind of shit for a hookup? Or… Is he just being friendly? Friend-zoning me because he’s come to his senses and decided he wants nothing to do with his best friend’s little brother?

I fist the edge of the tablecloth, trying not to scowl. “I’m done, thanks. It was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” He picks up my plate as well and then washes both.

Oh my god, please stop. This is way too domestic for my frantic heart.

“I, uh,” he says sheepishly, opening the fridge and producing two of my small mason jars that are now filled with something brown. “I found one of those chocolate pudding sachets and you had some milk, so I made dessert, too.” He plops it in front of me, another bout of wonder and nerves and contentment surging through me. “Didn’t have much to garnish it with, but I improvised. If we do that movie, we can grab more ice cream or something.”

God have mercy. Or better yet—just kill me already and end my delightful misery. Ben’s used crushed peanuts or cashews—I do remember having a packet lying about—to draw the insignia of One , my favorite General-Commander from RS.

I swallow a big scoop of chocolate goodness and close my eyes. My chest feels too tight, my skin tingling with pleasure. It’s not the sexual kind; it’s the one that you get when an important person shows they care about you in exactly the way you needed them to.

And I just can’t have that. Maybe old Charlie could—the one who believed in fairytale love and charming princes—but new Charlie? He needs to put a stop to this pronto , because his resolve to be badass and need no man is wearing really thin.

“Listen,” I start, chewing the inside of my cheek as I try to organize my thoughts.

I need to end this. I was a fool to think I can just be friends-with-benefits with Ben. My crush is majorly resurfacing, and worse yet, his behavior is only fueling it further. Mr. Perfect needs to go back to wherever he crawled out from before I completely fall for his irresistible charm and end up with a broken heart when he ultimately decides he’s done pretending he’s interested in me.

His thick brows slant, the green of his eyes stirring with a hint of concern. “Or we can stay in, if you prefer? I just thought the alien invasion horror movie that just came out might be to your liking. If I remember correctly, you used to love that stuff.” He sits back in the chair across from me, lacing his hands on top of the table. “But I can probably find it online…”

My heart pounds in my ears. Shit, he remembers even that? I’m dead.

“Um, actually, I think it’s not a good idea for us to hang—”

My phone rings, startling me so hard I jump from the chair. I usually have it on silent, for this exact reason, but I left the volume on because I might or might not have wanted to make sure I didn’t miss Ben’s call so I could buzz the door to the building open for him.

I look at the screen. It’s Trish.

“Hey, what’s up?” I say, shaking my head when Ben makes to stand up and give me some space.

There is a pause. Trish doesn’t do pauses, so the uncharacteristic start to our conversation immediately puts me on alert. “Trish? Is everything okay? Please don’t tell me something happened to Greg, and he ended up in a coma.”

“Jesus, Charlie. You’ve got some wild imagination! I’m fine!” Greg shouts into the phone from somewhere in the background, a trace of amusement palpable in his voice. But there is also a slight note of concern, which only serves to make the worry within me spike.

“Then what is it? Just spill it out. This is flaring my anxiety.”

Trish sighs. “Okay, so. But don’t freak out, okay?”

“Okay…”

She sucks in a deep breath, as if whatever news she is about to tell me can be worse than one of my two best friends ending up in a hospital. The suspense is killing me.

“Trish. Just spit it out!”

“Okay. I guess you haven’t seen it yet…” She sighs again. “There’s been another post and… It’s not good.”

“Another post?” I blanch, my brain working overtime to catch up. Chills run down my spine, forcing a sudden alertness through my entire body. Ben seems to catch onto it, his pretty eyes narrowing in concern. “Do you mean by… Andy?”

“Yes. It’s, uh, the video from that one time you got completely smashed.”

I cringe. I don’t remember much from that party, but I’ve watched the video before I personally deleted it from Andy’s phone. It really doesn’t paint me in a good light. It’s mostly me screaming, shouting and going around butt-naked like some lunatic who’s gotten too high.

“But I deleted it!” I argue in terror.

While I don’t particularly care what people think about me, it’s important that I maintain an inoffensive image. I have sponsors and a growing fanbase, so getting stuff dug up that I’d like to keep buried is the last thing I need. It was also a onetime occurrence, something that happened to me because Andy dragged me to a stupid party and forced me to drink with his dumb chad friends.

“I guess he must’ve kept a copy… That asshole!” Trish groans, annoyance and rage deepening her voice. “We are working to get it taken off, but people have seen it already. I can’t believe that asshole did something like this!”

I growl, banging my fist into the table. “He’s fucking dead. He crossed a line he shouldn’t have.”

“Please, don’t do anything reckless! Greg and I are coming over! Wait for us.”

I groan like a dying beast. “Fine! Just get here quickly. This ass needs to pay!”

I hang up and throw my phone at the couch. It bounces off the backrest and falls to the seat. I might be angry and murderous, but I am not one of those idiots who go around breaking keyboards, phones, or screens because they can’t reel it in.

“Charlie, what happened?” Ben pleads, coming over to me and cradling my face. He holds it up, his thumbs stroking my cheeks as his pretty eyes study me cautiously. “Talk to me. I want to help.”

God, this man will be the end of me. I should push him away and kick him out and be done with him. I don’t need more future drama in my life. But I don’t do that. I wrap my arms around his stomach and pull him close, absorbing his heat and his steady, calming presence as I bury my face in his chest.

Shit. It feels amazing, his solidity a grounding beacon that keeps me tethered so I don’t run off and strangle that asshole Andy with my bare hands.

“It’s my shitty ex. Fuck, I can’t believe I dated that piece of shit. We broke up weeks ago, but he’s been pestering me to get back together. I told him we are done. So now he’s leaking private videos and photos online!”

Ben sucks in a sharp breath, his body vibrating. He’s angry, I can tell. For me . I squeeze him tighter. His hands move to my back and rub soothing patterns that actually help me shake off some of the haze my rage is causing.

Exhaling deeply, I launch into an explanation, needing to get everything off my chest. He listens, cursing here and there and hugging me close. I revel in the contact, warmth and uninvited affection blooming in my chest along with the seething need for revenge.

“Tell me where he lives,” Ben growls, his voice agitated and sexy.

I push off a little so I can look at him. His face is contorted in distaste, anger on my behalf giving him a wild look that goes straight to my cock. I moan a little and rub against him. I’ve never had anyone so worked up over me. It’s impossibly hot.

When he notices my very indiscrete attempt to dry-hump him, he chuckles. “Did you get horny, babe?”

I flash him a flirty smile, the rage in me contained by a rush of arousal. “A little? You got all angry for my sake and it’s really doing it for me.”

“Yeah?” he muses, snaking a hand inside my pants. His fingers tease my slit, pressing and rubbing. “Fuck, you are leaking.”

I hum in pleasure, shifting my hips so I can guide his hand lower. My own coils around my erection. “Finger me.”

He pulls on his lip, his pre-cum smeared finger teasing my hole. “Yeah? You want that, babe? Aren’t your friends coming here?”

“They are, but just a bit,” I whine, trying to impale myself on his digit. “To take the edge off?”

He slips it in and captures my mouth in a heated kiss. A second finger joins as his tongue dances with mine, his hunger white-hot and deranging. It’s like he’s kissing me for the first time even though we fucked not that long ago. His hard dick brushes against me, untouched and begging for attention. But he ignores it, focusing only on me and my pleasure until I’m a gasping, moaning mess as he makes me come in my pants.

“That’s so hot,” he whispers against my ear, his mouth raining soft kisses wherever it can.

“Want me to return the favor?” I ask, hazy and blissed-out and panting as he holds me so I don’t crumple to the floor.

He kisses my forehead. “Nah. Don’t think we have time. Go shower and change. Your friends will be here soon.” He grins then, and it looks evil. “We’ve got a revenge to plan.”

I blink at him, stars and fire exploding within me. I’m done for. I don’t think I can win against him. He’s just too fucking perfect, and when he smiles at me so openly, hope blooms in me that maybe I was wrong about love after all.