23. Charlie

CHAPTER 23

CHARLIE

I 'm at the stove flipping the omelets when I hear Marissa's footsteps on the stairs. Immediately, a smile pulls at my lips.

"Good morning." Sliding her omelet onto a plate, I turn to face her as she enters the kitchen.

She actually looks sheepish — like she's just locked eyes with her crush for the first time. Seeing her this way makes heat spread through me, and I have to fight the urge not to jump over the table and attack her with my mouth.

"Good morning." She gives me a quick kiss on the lips. "Sorry, I slept in."

"Don't be. You looked like an angel." I put her plate on the table for her and drink her in.

She's wearing the dress she left here last week after wearing some of my clothes home, and I'm proud of myself for taking it to the dry cleaner's. It's crisp and fresh on her, and with her hair pulled up into a messy bun, she looks good enough to eat.

"What?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I just can't get enough of you, that's what."

"Smooth talker," she teases, but there's a sparkle in her eye.

"I can't help it." Shuffling closer, I take her by the hips and duck my face to look in her eyes. "Can you blame me?"

She splays her palms across my chest. "I suppose not," she says. "But then again, I'm heavily biased."

I laugh, and the sound fills the room. "Oh? Biased in whose favor?"

Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me down till our faces are inches apart. "You'd have to guess."

Before I can offer a cheeky retort, she kisses me lightly on the lips. Her touch is as intoxicating as the first time we kissed, and I savor the moment like an aged whiskey.

"I need to get to work," she murmurs against my lips.

"Too bad." I pull away and point at her breakfast. "Will you at least eat?"

"Can I get it to go?" Her face scrunches up in apology.

"Of course." I transfer the omelet into a bento box that I dig out of the cupboard, then kiss her again. "Come back tonight."

Her gaze sinks into mine. "You know it."

Then she's off, sashaying out the door, me staring after her like a lovesick puppy.

This girl… this incredible woman has stirred feelings in me that I didn't think I was capable of experiencing.

It's almost terrifying, but I'm also along for the ride. I'm here for whatever comes next.

I wave at her through the window as she leaves the driveway, then I head back to the kitchen. Another long day stretches out ahead of me, but I have my routine to fill it with.

There's breakfast. A workout. My shift at the charity Marissa set me up to volunteer with. Grabbing groceries for dinner.

And then there's Marissa, who will be back in my arms soon.

As I sit down to eat, my phone buzzes with a text. It's from Tim, but when I open it up, there are no words. It's just a link to an article.

My stomach clenches tight. Usually, this isn't a good sign. It could mean someone is writing shit about me.

Holding my breath, I click on the link. It's an article about me and Marissa, but a quick glance tells me it's all positive.

The author talks about how "in love" I am with my girlfriend/agent, and there are pictures of us kissing on the dance floor last night to prove it.

I grin at just how good we look together. Like we were made to be in each other's arms.

Honestly, I don't understand how Marissa could have been worried. Anyone who looks at these photos will draw positive conclusions. The team reps will see that I really am living a new life, and Isaac will believe that Marissa and I are playing our roles well.

Everyone will be happy. Especially me and Marissa.

Knowing that, I dig into my breakfast, eager to greet the day ahead.