Incinerate

Chapter 11

Charlie

A LOUD banging pulls me from my sleep. I wince when I open my eyes as the bright light pouring in the large side window blinds me. My head is pounding, the after effects of mixing too much beer and tequila, and I groan, wishing I’d said no to that last shot. In fact, I probably should’ve said no to the last three shots, but after Knox and Jace came back from their bar conversation, things were a little tense at the table. I did what I always do in uncomfortable situations—order tequila. I can barely remember Lexi dropping me off at Knox’s, and I’m beginning to wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

When I feel the bed shift beside me, my heart begins to race. Even though I was intoxicated, I know I didn’t bring anyone back with me, so there’s only one guess as to whose bed I’m in. Peeking under the covers, I’m relieved to find that I’m clothed, but that’s short-lived when I realize that I’m in a pair of his boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt, presumably also his.

I’m wearing his fucking clothes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, I think, trying to remember how I ended up in his clothes, but my mind’s drawing a blank. Turning towards him, I’m thankful to find that he’s still asleep, and although I know I need to get out of here, I can’t help but look at him.

Knox is lying on his back, his broken arm propped up on a pillow next to him. My eyes drift down to his body and I can see the outline of muscles on his lower abdomen as the sheet falls just below his belly button. His dog tags rise and fall with every breath. I want to reach out and touch them and then stroke the skin that they lie on. His face is beautiful and serene, and for the first time since I met him, he looks completely vulnerable. Something about it takes my breath away. He’s gorgeous when he’s awake, but right now it’s unnerving how breathtaking he is when he looks so peaceful. I can’t help but move a little closer to him, stopping just inches away.

My eyes fall on his left rib, where I’ve previously spotted a tattoo but haven’t ever been able to study it. Taking a closer look, I see the words “Perfer et obdura; Dolor hic tibi proderit olim.” I’m pretty sure that it’s Latin. Now I’m even more curious to know what it means and what caused him to get those words tattooed on his skin.

My hand takes on a mind of its own as my fingers reach out and graze the skin where the tattoo is. It goes on a quest, in search of every scar that covers his torso. I can see where shrapnel tore into his skin and feel the raised scar tissue underneath my touch. No matter how much he can drive me crazy, I can’t help but wonder how much pain and suffering he’s seen and had to endure. My heart aches at the thought of him lying on that road in Afghanistan, unconscious, bruised, broken, and burned. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and scarred, a strange sadness washes over me, and I wonder if his experiences of loss have played a role in the gruff exterior he likes to portray.

As my fingers trace the lines in his abs, a moment goes by and I swear I feel him tense beneath me, causing my fingers to freeze and my breath to catch. Terrified that he’s going to catch me, I’m holding it, my fingers still lightly touching him but no longer moving. A moment passes, and then another. Relief flows through me when he doesn’t wake and his breathing stays normal. I’m hoping it was just a fluke and that he didn’t actually feel me making my exploration.

My heart is still racing, and I don’t know if it’s from the fact that I was almost caught or if it’s from the close proximity to him. I’m completely confused at my reaction to him. I want to gouge his eyes out in one moment and then rip his clothes off in the next. He’s sweet, he’s an ass, he’s warm, he’s cold. He flirts, he scowls, he drives me absolutely crazy, but dammit if my heart doesn’t melt when he smiles. Not that it’s often, but I love that smile—the one he gives when he doesn’t think anyone’s really paying attention, when the smile actually reaches his eyes.

I don’t know what it is about Knox Wellington, but in this moment, I know that Lexi was right in her response when I told her I didn’t know what I was getting into. It’s going to be fun finding out, but I’m also scared out of my mind at the same time. I never felt this physically attracted to Drew, like there was a pull to him like I feel with Knox. Like I could stare at him for days, never looking away. Although he made my heart race in his own way, it was nothing like this, and it definitely didn’t happen this fast.

The banging, which I now identify as a loud knock at the door, resumes, tearing me out of my thoughts. I can see that Knox is beginning to stir, and I know I need to get the hell out of here. I slip out of bed in hopes that he doesn’t catch me. My memory of the night after that last shot is foggy, but I’m pretty sure he told me to raid his closet, get comfortable, and go to sleep. Nothing happened, and part of me feels disappointed. When I get to the door, I take one last look at him, and I have to fight the urge to return to the bed and kiss his inviting lips.

Making my way down the hall, I fix my ponytail and look down at my clothes. I’m athletic and not a stick figure, but I’m still swimming in them and I love the feel of it. Before I make it to the front door, I look down to make sure that I’m not showing off the chill in the air, and when I do, I catch the scent of his cologne that’s lingering on the shirt. My hands involuntarily bring the top of his t-shirt up to my face to inhale the scent. Closing my eyes, I savor it, reliving the moment I was pressed against his chest during the slow dance last night. Another loud bang jolts me out of the memory, and I’m mortified when I spot Jace and Lexi grinning at me through the glass window in the front door with grocery bags in their hands.

Crossing to the door, I pull the t-shirt back down and smooth it out as I let them in. Jace takes one look at my clothes and whistles, and Lexi grins knowingly at me as she hands me my car keys, having agreed to drop my car off this morning.

“I was going to say nice outfit, Charlie, but you already seem to be enjoying it,” she teases me as I take one of the bags from her. They follow me into the kitchen and we start unpacking them.

“Oh, that? It was nothing. I’ve got to pick up some more fabric softener when I head to the store later today, and I was trying to get a feel for what scent Knox usually prefers,” I say, knowing it’s a lame excuse.

Jace chuckles as he rummages through the cabinets and pulls out a frying pan. “Lately, it’s eau de can’t shower, but I’m sure you can find something better.”

Lexi playfully punches him in the arm at his comment. “Hey, that’s not fair. He can’t help it.”

A gruff, sleepy voice fills the room. “Can’t help what?” I freeze. It’s only been a couple of minutes since I left his bedroom, and when I turn to look at him, I can’t tell if he just woke up or if he’s faking the grogginess. I’m suddenly nervous at the liberties I took when I thought he was asleep, but now that he’s avoiding eye contact with me, I’m mentally freaking out that he wasn’t exactly in a deep slumber.

“Oh, Charlie here was just trying to figure out what kind of fabric softener you like,” Jace informs him.

He finally looks at me, and I can’t read his expression as he takes in the sight of me, looking me up and down as I stand here barefoot in his kitchen, wearing his clothes. It’s unnerving the way he’s watching me, and I still can’t believe that I agreed to move in with him. I’m kind of wishing we could have this morning to ourselves to actually talk this out without Jace to butt in, but at the same time, I’m grateful for the distraction.

Still looking at me, he simply shrugs. “I usually just get whatever’s on sale. I don’t care what it smells like. Just none of that girly shit,” he informs me, and the brisk note in his tone has me wanting to run out and buy the Gain Lavender & Vanilla detergent that I love so much.

Ignoring him, I set about making a list since I always do my shopping on Sundays and I’m not going to have much when I leave Lucy’s place. She’s going to freak out when she learns who my new roommate is. Leaving them in the kitchen, I wander around the house until I find the guest bathroom, the one I figure will be mine. It’s pretty bare, so I write down all the essentials I’ll need. I check under the cabinet for cleaning supplies, and when I stand up and turn around, I run into a warm, solid chest. I have to fight the urge not to lick him once the scent of sweat and the remnants of last night’s cologne washes over me. He grabs my arms to steady me, inadvertently pulling me close, causing my chest to be pressed up against his.

“Jace said to tell you that breakfast is ready.” He drops his hands to his sides and looks down at me, giving me a sexy smirk. “And here I was thinking I’d get homemade French toast. What’s up with that?”

Tapping my chin, I place my other hand on my hips. “I believe I said if you’re lucky. Guess there really is a first time for everything,” I say playfully. “But now that we’re going to be roomies, there’s plenty of time for you be introduced to the Davenport World Famous French Toast.”

“Roomies. Right. So you’re really going to rent a room from me?” he asks, looking surprised as he rubs his hand over the top of his head.

“Sure, why not? It’ll make this easier on both of us, especially once you have to start doing physical therapy multiple times a week. We can discuss rent and all that later on when they’re gone. Sound good?”

He nods and moves to walk out the door. Before he exits, he turns to look at me. “Hey, roomie?” he calls, pausing as I look at him. A cocky grin spreads over his face as he makes it clear that he’s checking me out. “I like you in my clothes.”

And with that, he’s gone, leaving me here to lean back against the sink, more confused than ever, wondering if this is really a good idea.

Knox

ONCE JACE and Lexi finally left, Charlie was quick to follow behind them, claiming that she wanted to go ahead and get some stuff from Lucy’s, even though she has a week until she has to move out. I offered to help her, but she waved me off, telling me she was just going to grab a few changes of clothes and essentials. I made her promise to let me help her later on this week, and she consented, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the girl was crossing her fingers behind her back. I’m reminded of the other day when I tried to help with the groceries, and I’ll be shocked if she’ll actually lets me help. But what she doesn’t seem to realize is I can be just as stubborn as she is.

Charlie was so quick to get out of here that she didn’t help put my brace on, and I’m more thank thankful for it. I decide to take advantage of the freedom and enjoy a long, hot shower. Walking into the bathroom, I turn the water on before heading back to my room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I lift my hips slowly and push my fingers into the waistband of my shorts, sliding them down over my ass. I sit back down and kick them off, and I can’t help but be fucking proud that I’m finally finding ways to figure this shit out on my own. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll let Charlie slowly undress me every single day, but I’d rather her do it as she lowers herself to her knees to take me into her mouth rather than for me just to be able to shower.

The thought of Charlie’s perfect lips around my cock is such a fucking turn-on, and my dick rises to the occasion. After my surgery, I could barely get hard, even when I tried to, and I fucking panicked for a while there until the doc told me that pain medication was probably the cause of it and it would only be temporary. Despite her professional medical opinion, I was still skeptical. It wasn’t until Charlie smiled up at me in the bar that I felt it stirring to life. Even then, by the time I got home, I was soft again, and as much as I tried to jack off, I couldn’t do it. For the first time in my life, I felt like less of a man.

All of these things—the injuries, the side effects from the medicine, the feelings of helplessness—are piling up on me, and I feel like I can’t breathe at times. It doesn’t help that all I have time to do is think. To dwell. And it’s burning up inside of me.

When I left Belle Meade, I swore that I’d never be weak again. I swore that I’d always take care of those around me, no matter the cost, and when I took that Army Oath, I swore to protect my brothers. And here I am, almost eleven years later. Weak. Alone. A failure. I haven’t felt like this since I was an eighteen-year-old kid who thought he’d already met the love of his life, only to have her rip him to shreds. And I swore to myself that I’d never let anyone back in again who could make me feel that way. It’s been easy, too. Until now. Until Charlie.

When I enter the bathroom, I realize that I still have to cover my arm. After a couple of minutes of trying to do it one-handed, I figure it’s the best I’m going to do and hope I don’t get my cast too wet. I open the shower door, recalling the moment that I opened it up on her the other night. The way her eyes were taking in my cock like it was the most delicious piece of meat she’s ever seen made my dick throb like nothing I’ve ever felt before. If there was ever a time for me to finally get off, that would’ve been it, but knowing that she was right outside waiting for me had me hurrying instead.

Making quick work of washing my hair, I rinse off and grab the body wash Charlie replaced the other night. Soaping up, I rub my chest and abdomen, and I’m immediately reminded of this morning.

Groaning, I rinse off and lean my head back against the tile. She thought I was asleep, but I’d actually woken up a few moments before I felt her shift beside me. It was hard to suppress the grin that was struggling to surface when I felt her lift the covers, because I knew what she was doing. She had been pretty damn intoxicated when Lexi had dropped us off at my place, and I was going to walk her to the guest bedroom, but she was determined to follow me to mine and help me remove my clothes, grumbling something about being the best not-nurse I’ve ever had. After she took my shorts off, she jumped on the bed and proceeded to help me out of my t-shirt. Her eyes grew soft when she saw my dog tags for the first time, and she got on her knees on the bed in front of me and grabbed hold of them.

“I don’t know how you do it. You’re so brave,” she slurred, inspecting each tag with squinted eyes.

I pulled her up so she was eye level with me. A sexy look crossed her face as she gazed at me with hooded eyes. “Not brave, sweetheart. Just doing my job,” I told her, and she just smiled at me—that same smile she had been giving Jace and Kale. My heart constricted, happy to finally earn one of those grins. I didn’t care that she was only doing it because of the alcohol.

“Why do you always call me sweetheart?” she asked as she twirled the chain of my tags.

To be honest, I started it to be annoying, and then it just kind of stuck. I like it. It’s so her, yet it’s so not. When I answered her, I didn’t know what to say. “I have no idea, sweetheart. It just works.”

She snorted. Yeah, she fucking snorted. “Oh god. When I was a kid, my dad used to call me Sweet Tart. I guess I could be sweet or sour at the drop of a hat. He’d always tell me that he never knew which Charlie he was going to get.” She giggled and then stumbled on the bed, causing her giggle even more. The idea of tickling her crossed my mind, but I knew if I got my hands on her I wouldn’t have been able to stop at innocent touching.

“All right, enough talk. Go raid my closet for some clothes to change into and let’s get some sleep.”

As soon as she changed into a pair of my boxers and one of my t-shirts, she promptly passed out on the bed next to me. She looked gorgeous, her brown hair fanned out on my usual favorite pillow, and even though I have trouble sleeping without it, I decided to let her keep it for the night.

This morning when she woke up, I realized that she probably wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. I was about to turn over and reassure her that it was all innocent, and I was so ready to tease her and call her Sweet Tart, but before I could move, I felt her fingers lightly touching my skin. I froze at her touch, not wanting her to stop. Willing myself to lie as still as possible, I could barely keep my cool as her hand roamed my chest, and I could tell when she was exploring the tattoo on my rib. It wasn’t until she made her way down to my abs that I finally had an involuntary reaction. I was afraid I was caught when I felt her finger pause, no longer making its exploration. Her index finger traced every ab muscle, even exploring my oblique muscles. I couldn’t help the way my muscles tensed, probably a reaction to the rock-hard morning wood I was sporting. I was half praying that she’d lift the sheet—and half praying she wouldn’t discover it.

I was able to calm myself down so that my breathing remained normal until I felt her shift off of the bed and then finally leave the room. I exhaled deeply and knew right then and there that I was in trouble, because those few moments of her hands on me made me want her more than I’ve wanted anyone in the longest time.

Now in the shower, my hand matches the way her fingers traced my skin, but I move farther down, imagining that she had taken a peek under the sheet. My hand moves down and grips the base of my cock, and I can feel Charlie’s hand there instead of mine. I make one strong stroke, from root to tip, and it feels so goddamn fucking good. To be honest, I haven’t jacked off in the shower since I was about fifteen, but I’m hard now and I can’t get this girl’s vision out of my mind. I’m taking advantage while I can—and if I can. I’ve been slowly lowering the dose of medicine, so I’m praying that I can keep going long enough to get off.

Since my left arm is out of commission, I can’t steady myself, so I back up against the wall. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes as I continue to stroke my cock up and down, imagining that Charlie is in here doing it for me. Remembering the way she sucked that lime after a tequila shot last night, I envision her lips wrapped around my cock, sucking hard until all the juice is down her throat. I pump hard into my fist, and I know I need to slow down before I accidentally tweak something in my back. But I can’t help it when my left hand grips the top of the glass door as I squeeze tightly, moving my hand from top to bottom, wishing I was sliding into Charlie instead of my fist. Rocking my hips, I can almost feel her body making contact with mine—her hard nipples poking into my chest as she grinds up against me, her sexy brown eyes gazing into mine as she rides my dick. Fuck, I want this girl so bad, and my cock is about to explode just at the thought of her.

The thought of her fingers all over me one last time is all I need to finally groan out my release, and I swear I hear myself say her fucking name as my cock pumps out over and over until I’m finally empty.

Still holding on to the top of the door, I’m panting, catching my breath, slightly winded from finally being able to stay hard long enough to finish the job. A slow smile spreads over my face as I go to wash the evidence off my hand. I know I shouldn’t think it, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to really have Charlie with me in the shower, naked, wet, and more importantly, willing. Sighing, I know it’s wishful thinking and a thought I need to get out of my mind if I’m going to stand any chance living with her and sticking to the whole strictly roommates thing.

The problem, though, is that the more I’m around her, the more I think I don’t want that. I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s purely a physical attraction, but I’m beginning to realize that I might just be lying to myself. I don’t know how to process these feelings—this need, this want—to get to know her.

Turning off the water, I get out of the shower and decide to forget about it for now. I can celebrate the small victory—well, not small—I just had and figure everything out later. It’s not like she’s going anywhere anytime soon. At least I hope not. I need to find a way to get this girl off my mind or I’m going to drive myself crazy.