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“No, not too much. I mean . . . To be honest, I want more.” He looks at my hand. Looks at me. “Good,” he says, deadly serious, but his eyes are shining. “Because I do too. A lot more.” And then he fits his palm around my jaw, and presses his lips to mine.
Charlie kisses like he sings: sensuous and with conviction.
“I don’t want to make you miss your best friend’s wedding.” I can’t help laughing. He sounds so serious. I barely remember where we are, let alone what’s happening around us. “She got married hours ago.”
“Of course you are!! You deserve some good dick!!!!”
Ykw… hell yeah
My nakedness feels indecent against the suit’s fabric.
There’s that adage about big hands, big dick,
Thank god this is the kind of silly, too-cool hotel that puts condoms in its minibar.
wtf hotels are y’all staying at??… so I can stay FAR away from them ofc…
You might only get this once, I remind myself.
You’re right it’s time to lock in
When he gets there, he bites down on my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. It feels like a claim being staked: You are mine.
?
I know he doesn’t mean it, but I love the sensation all the same.
Okay
I want to reach out and touch him—to make sure that he’s as real as he was last night. But then he’ll wake up, and when he wakes up, there will probably be a conversation.
There’s something so simple about morning-after sex, when you’re both already naked and there’s nothing left to prove.
“Oh, I didn’t realize your flight was this early. You didn’t have to—” stay, I’m about to say, but Charlie just laughs. “I wanted to.” He sounds so . . . certain
Maybe this isn’t just a one-night thing after all? Maybe—maybe—
“You can have as much of me as you want, Maya,” he promises. It’s hard to imagine a better sentence.
Charlie’s promise from this morning echoes in my ears. You can have as much of me as you want. This weekend, I got off track and let myself believe maybe I could have him, and this too. Everything.
Then I sit down on the floor. I’ve held it together for as long as humanly possible, and it’s a relief to curl into a ball and let myself weep.
There’s real concern in his voice, and I want to curl up inside of it. To let myself be human, and hurt.
After hours, I engage in every mood-regulating, head-clearing activity that my therapist prescribed after the divorce: yoga, meditation, walks where I don’t look at my phone. I cut out alcohol and clean out my closet. I wipe down my countertops and drink lots of water. I’m a wellness influencer’s wet dream.
…I gotta lock in
Every time I have to repeat the lie that we had only just met—that it was friendly, that nothing happened—I feel like a child who misbehaved and is trying to hide it.
It’s exactly the kind of spring morning that makes you think winter can’t possibly have been as bad as you remember.
he looks as uncertain as I feel. What a relief. If he’d rolled up, cool and casual, my cracked heart might have actually broken.
I missed you. Or You’re the last thing I think about at night and the first thing I think about in the morning and probably the only thing swimming through my head when I’m asleep too.
I was impressed and inspired by her passion for universal basic income, which is a topic I also happen to care about deeply.”
Flipped it
all I can think about is how insanely hot Charlie is when he’s righteously pissed off, especially on my behalf.
you are excellent at your job.” He says that last part with so much conviction that it makes me suddenly and painfully aware of just how much self-doubt I’ve been harboring, a realization that brings me to the brink of tears.
“We’re friends,” is what I say out loud. “Friends who fucked.” “But just once!”
AAAAHHHH
“Does this mean I can flirt with him at dinner?”
I know what it’s like, being a woman in politics. I don’t want to see you make stupid mistakes. You have a lot of potential. You should live up to it.”
Can’t believe this means I can’t bang…
I don’t just have potential; I have success.
It must be so strange to always wonder if anyone has ever told you the truth about yourself.
A lot of people like their celebrities to . . . how does the saying go? Shut up and sing.
It’s like he’s in the room with me; I can imagine exactly how he’d sound,
The secret is, you’re perfect.
Seeing you is basically the only thing I’m looking forward to at this point.
I have no idea what his hookup habits are like these days,
You just can’t think abt that…
His phrasing is polite, but there’s a chance that he misses me like I miss him.
What are you up to right now?
Jerking it😏
that one morning when I could tuck myself under his arm and kiss the hollow of his throat. Press a palm against his stomach. Cause his breath to quicken for me.
I’m supposed to go to a party tonight. I don’t want to. Do you have to? It’s a work thing. I raise an eyebrow at my phone. Your work remains much more fun than mine.
God I have to party this weekend, THEN I have to party again next weekend😔
They’re still just words on a screen. But also all that I have right now.
“When the campaign ends, I will remember how to read a book.”
helicopter-bossing
I’d kill myself
But there he is. Charlie, sitting on a couch, his book in his lap.
😛
“Can’t we have just one drink first?”
“It would be better if we didn’t.”
he shakes his head ruefully. “I can’t say no to you, Maya.” “Don’t.”
“Thanks,” I say, when I can find my voice again. “That was . . . what I needed.”
Perioddd now babe your uber? It’s outside..
No, no, no. Stay. Tell me you see through me. That you want my problems to be your problems.
I consider calling Kate, but I know exactly what she’ll say—to trust my gut. Leave if I feel like leaving! Which is so Kate, so California,
