Charlie's Web (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 30

Something was licking her face.

Charlie opened her eyes to find two big brown eyes staring into hers intently. "Woof," Peter said solemnly, realising he finally had her attention.

"Hey dude," she whispered, stroking his soft back, looking around and realising she was in Aaron's bed. So she hadn't imagined it. She'd been clinging on to the last throes of sleep, thinking she was dreaming and when she opened her eyes she would be in her own bed and none of this would have happened.

She pulled herself up to a sitting position and smiled when she saw a can of Coke sitting on the bedside table beside her. Obviously Aaron's doing, although she had no idea where he was.

After the boat had arrived back, a bunch of folk had came back to Aaron's flat, but Charlie had been knackered by 11 and he'd offered her his bed. She'd momentarily woken up when he'd carefully lowered himself under the covers a couple of hours later but he'd kissed her forehead and whispered "go back to sleep" and she'd drifted back off immediately. She hadn't heard him get up again.

She glanced around the room, at the shelves of books and DVDs, and smiled at the realisation that she was in Aaron Ward's bedroom. Finally.

"Woof." Peter was bored of being ignored. Charlie laughed and peeled herself out of bed, pulling the hem of the t-shirt of Aaron's she was wearing down, and picking up the can of Coke. "Come on boy, lead me to your human," she told the dog who obediently trotted down the corridor ahead of her.

Aaron was in the kitchen, stacking plates in the dishwasher, tunelessly humming along with the radio. Peter appeared by his side and he turned around to pet him; that's when he noticed Charlie.

"You're up," he said. Charlie drank in the sight of him, a contrast to his usual groomed self. Dressed in a faded t-shirt and trackie bottoms, his hair was mussed up, stubble was darkening his jaw and chin, and he was wearing his glasses and a shy smile.

He was irresistible.

"I am." She smiled back tentatively, hovering by the door.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Like a log. Hopefully I didn't snore."

"Nope, although I did sometimes wonder if you were still alive, I could barely hear you breathing," he replied. They both laughed and then silence briefly engulfed them.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous," she said honestly.

"I know why I am," he replied, pushing the dishwasher door shut and turning to face her fully, his expression sincere. "I've wanted this to happen for a long time, and I don't want to fuck it up before it's even properly began."

"You won't," she said simply. Touched by his words. "You can't."

"I had this plan in my head I would make you breakfast in bed and sort out, you know, this, before you saw me," he grimaced, indicating his clothes and face. "And I've already messed that up cos I got distracted trying to tidy up the kitchen. So it's not started off too well." He laughed ruefully.

She walked closer. "I don't care about breakfast in bed," she smiled. "And I don't mind the outfit, and I like the stubble and glasses. I like being here, with you, in your space. That's all I care about."

His eyes darkened. "I like you being here too," he said hoarsely, pulling her towards him and dropping his lips onto hers. Gentle at first but neither of them could resist for long and the kiss grew harder; he lifted her into one of the breakfast bar stools so they were face to face and she wrapped her legs around him.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat at the door. Kayla, of course. "Can you please save these sort of antics for the bedroom?" She winked at them and wandered away down the corridor, Peter rushing off to join her.