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His fingertips dig into my hips, pulling me firmly against him. “Any chance that outfit from last night makes another appearance?”

I cast a surreptitious look back at the party, confirm that we’re alone, and then drop my hand between his legs. Feeling the hardness there, I push the heel of my hand down the length of him, stroking him over his pants.

“There might be something even better under this dress.”

His eyes are hungry and his kiss even more so as he devours me, pulling me against him. He claims every part of my heart and soul with that kiss.

“Charlie, someone said you were -- oh, I’m so sorry!”

We break apart like teenagers caught by our parents. Charlie turns around, very obviously pretending to look over the balcony to fix his pants as if the newcomer hadn't said his name.

The new arrival is a petite woman with natural blonde hair, pulled up and away from her face in a low ponytail. Her short light pink dress has straps that cross several times on her ample cleavage. I’m not sure if it’s the coloring of her dress and hair or the flush of the cold that gives a rosy sheen to her pale cheeks. I don’t know how she can stand to be outside for even one minute in the cold. Charlie turns around finally to face this woman.

“Yeah?” I feel his body go completely still behind me and I wish I could see his face. “Ains,” he breathes her name almost like a prayer that escapes his lips.

That one syllable tells me everything I need to know, and it simultaneously pulls all of my insecurities to the front. She’s gorgeous with her full lips, parted gently in confusion, and green eyes that are trained on Charlie. I feel inadequate just being in the same vicinity as her.

“I’m sorry. Jack just mentioned that you were out here. I thought you were alone.” She sounds disappointed, her conviction to find Charlie wavering. “I wanted to talk to you.”

The symbolism of how I stand between them now, an obstacle to them being together, burns away the feeling of that kiss.

“I’m Elia,” I say, reaching out my hand. I hope the wavering in my voice can be explained away by the cold, while wishing that speaking up changes something. Charlie is frozen with the spell of Ainsley cast over him.

“Ainsley,” she confirms, shaking my hand. There is a question in her eyes, wondering who I am and exactly what she interrupted. I take another step away from Charlie, aching when he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’ll let you two talk.” I force a steel rod behind my words, trying to lend them a strength I don’t feel. Charlie’s eyes find mine, having woken from the daze of Ainsley’s presence. I give him a nod, letting him know it’s okay as I leave my boyfriend with his ex-fiancée. My head is held high, totally cool, totally unbothered.

Vivian and Jack’s bedroom is off limits, but I discreetly ask her if I can use her master bathroom, citing a line at the other. She squeezes my arm with a nod.

The bathroom is smaller than Charlie’s but held enough space for us to get our hair and make-up done earlier. The mirror is long, the same tiling covers the floor and the walls in the Japanese style for the ease of cleaning. I drift to her side of the double sink, marked by her various lotions and creams around it. The silver nob twists in my hand, cold water gushing from the spout. I focus on that, the feel of the water in my hands and the feel of it on my face as I splash it up, not caring about my make-up. I force a shaky breath out, trying not to think about what they’re talking about outside or how he reacted to seeing her. I stare into my own green eyes, focusing on how far I have come and how far I have yet to go.

“You are smart and beautiful and college-educated. You were probably fine before Charlie showed up in your life and you will be fine if things end. You have endured storms worse than a breakup and you have weathered them with grace. You have come out better for every challenge. He has not broken up with you yet. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

I let my insecurity burrow deep inside me, letting it take root for too long. Seeing how they look at each other, that history of love, that history between them is difficult to deny. I try to use these words of affirmation, to assure myself, to try to bolster my own self-confidence.

I hear a throat clearing and jump as I see Jack leaning against the door frame. Anger rises in me, seeing him so nonchalant and relaxed.

“You did this on purpose.” I turn to face him, drying my face off with a towel.

“I did,” he confirms.

“Why? What did I do to you?” I ask. I throw the towel down on the counter, bracing a hand on it.

“It’s what you did to Vivian. I won’t let a manipulative backstabber back into her life and I want you out of Charlie’s.”

I have to admire his devotion to them, but he’s so wrong about me. He’s not interested in letting me prove myself to him.

“Do you actually hear yourself? The blatant hypocrisy?You’remanipulating the situation.”

Jack’s face doesn’t show any reaction to my words. He stays where he is, unmovable. I push past him to get back to the party.

“I’ll do whatever I have to to protect them,'' he warns as I walk back into the party. I’m flustered when I enter the main room, angry and embarrassed by this whole night. Vivian, still radiant, spies me, walks over, and grabs my hand. Seeing Jack behind me, she smiles, completely unaware of the tension between the two of us.

“Oh good, he found you.”

I turn to look at Jack, then back at Vivian, swallowing my anger.

“I told her that Charlie left. She was just coming to find you and say bye.” Jack’s blatant lie shocks me, but I’m not going to call him out for it and ruin Vivian’s night.


Tags: Nicole Sanchez Romance