Page 11 of Shadowing Charlotte

Chapter eleven

Charlotte

" S till feeling sick?" Alexander asked as he popped open the soda. I shook my head, letting the fridge door fall closed. I was sure I'd thrown up my entire dinner and all of the drinks that had followed.

After standing in front of the chill of the fridge, my head was slowly clearing. I couldn't believe that I'd jumped him like that at the club and invited him inside the fucking house. I was insane; that was the only logical explanation.

"I'm fine." I still felt hot, the colors around me vibrant and melting together all at once. His blue eyes drew me in, sparkling at me like sapphires. Even as I sipped my drink, I couldn't look away.

"Is this going to become a regular occurrence? Me saving you from some fucked-up situation you've put yourself in?" He crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter.

"Probably," I shrugged and smiled at him. I'd developed a penchant for getting myself into trouble since my mother died. It was almost inevitable, like I'd lost my sense of self-control. Maybe that was why I'd never told anyone about him… "So, Alex… Can I call you Alex?"

"Lex, if you don't mind," he replied. I hopped up on the marble counter, the chilly surface soothing my warm skin.

"If I don't mind…" I repeated with a wry smirk, pulling the vape from my bag and taking a long inhale of the fruity mist. "So, you're a stalker and a gentleman?" I asked the very thing I'd been thinking since that night he had taken me home from the quarry.

He didn't reply, leaning back against the opposite counter, his blue eyes glued to my bare legs.

The way he watched me was intoxicating, sending a jolt of excitement through me.

Every inch of my body tingled as his eyes remained fixed.

I felt like I could do anything I wanted around him; be anything I wanted.

I didn't have to force a smile or act perfect; it all just came naturally.

Slowly, I spread my legs apart, leaning back on my hands and grinning at him like a cheshire cat. I knew he had a perfect view of my lacy thong, the material barely hiding what was underneath.

"For fuck's sake, Charlotte," he groaned, his frustration evident in the way his eyes fell closed, his face contorting like it was agony for him to see me in such a position.

"Come on, Alexander…" I teased playfully, spreading my thighs wider, my clingy dress hiking up around my hips. "You've been following me for years. Don't act like you don't want me."

"Lex…" he corrected, pushing himself away from the counter, dropping the soda can on the floor as he stalked toward me like a predator approaching its next meal. "And I want you princess, so badly it fucking kills me…" His gaze darkened as he closed in, standing in front of me, only inches away.

My breath hitched in anticipation, my heart leaping into my throat.

"But not like this…" His face was so close, only a breath away, those ocean eyes burning with desire.

I could feel his words ghost across my lips as he continued, "When I finally fuck you, I want you of sound mind.

I want you to take every inch of me, both of us completely certain that it was your choice… Not some fucking pill or drink…"

So close… so fucking close. I couldn't hold back my moan as he inched forward, his fingers trailing up my thigh, lips only centimeters from mine.

It didn't simply feel like he was touching me.

He was inside me, crawling beneath my skin and slithering through my veins.

Then he recoiled, as if touching me had scorched his skin.

"Goodnight, Charlotte."

I barely had time to blink before he was gone, storming out of the house with the front door slamming closed behind him, leaving my heart pounding and my pulse racing.

I woke with a throbbing headache, my mouth feeling dry and ashy.

Light filled the room, warm and bright, making my eyes burn.

Instinctively, I reached for my phone, but it wasn't on the bedside table.

With a long groan, I hauled myself up from bed, pinching the bridge of my nose to relieve the ache in my sinuses.

As I entered the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, I stepped in something sticky.

The soda can was still on the floor where Lex had dropped it, the liquid becoming a syrupy puddle overnight.

"Gross…" I muttered under my breath, opening the sink cupboard and wetting a rag.

I cleaned my foot first, before tossing the can into the trash and wiping the floor.

After a water bottle, two Tylenols, and thirty minutes, the throbbing behind my eyes had eased, but I still couldn't find my fucking phone.

Opening my laptop, I pulled up my phone location and sent a ping, the sound ringing through the house. It was under my bed; somehow it slipped between the mattress and the headboard. Sliding the lock open, I flicked through the tabs I'd used last night. Oh, my fucking God…

My Facebook messages were open. I'd messaged Alexander no less than fourteen times.

Found you.

Why did you leave?

Come back.

I really want to fuck you.

Coward…

On and on they went, until the last two were a jumbled mess that even I couldn't discern.

My heart fell into my stomach when I saw the tiny profile icon at the bottom.

Tapping on it, the little "seen" label appeared.

Lex hadn't bothered to reply. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger.

The fucker had been stalking me for years and he couldn't be bothered to reply to a single message? What an asshole.

Sorry.

I was really fucked up last night.

I hit send and then flipped to my home screen. Three missed calls from my father. Fuck… I pressed the green button and listened to the line ring.

"Everything alright, peapod?"

"Yes, everything is fine… Sorry Daddy. I was asleep when you called," I replied, nervously picking at the polish that had begun to chip off of my thumb nail.

"I just wanted to check on you. I guessed you might have gone out last night. I just wanted to make sure that you made it home safe…" he assured me.

"I did. I should have texted you."

"Are you having fun?"

"I'm not here to have fun, Daddy. I want to focus on my career." I leaned against the counter. It was a half-truth at best, but I imagined that a pleased smile stretched across his face .

"Is Adam going to drive up and see you?" he asked, changing the subject. I noted the displeasure in his tone. Daddy had never liked Adam. He had always been polite, but the moment Adam left, he was always reprimanding me, telling me that I could do better.

"I don't know, dad. You know we aren't all that serious," I replied, trying not to sound annoyed.

"Seemed pretty serious the night before you left…" he insisted. I swallowed, trying not to think about how my father had caught us dry humping on the couch. It had been uncomfortable and embarrassing when Daddy has instantly asked Adam to leave.

"I'm barely twenty-one, Daddy. I'm not looking to get married… or wind up pregnant," I told him, picking at the polish on my nail until it was clean.

"Good. Stick to that. I want to see you accomplish your dreams before you settle down," Daddy replied.

He started prattling, going on and on about how he and my mother got married so young.

I zoned out, thinking over the night before, humming in agreement.

I wasn't listening, though. "Well, I'll let you enjoy your Saturday. "

"I'll come visit you tomorrow." I told him.

"No need, sweetheart. Get settled in. You can come down next weekend."

"Okay, Daddy," I agreed, "Love you."

"Love you, too, sweet pea," he replied before disconnecting. My phone chimed again, and I flicked open the notification:

Stop getting fucked up.

Fourteen messages in an hour… What are you? Some kind of stalker?

My face felt hot as I watched the second bubble pop up.

You are such a dick!

I closed the app and dropped the phone on the counter, breathing hard. Fuck, why did I let him bother me so badly? Why did every conversation we had send my pulse racing? My phone pinged again, and I couldn't stop myself from glancing down at it.

Alexander Roberts accepted your friend request. I couldn't resist, opening the app and immediately delving into his photos.

He had two albums, only two: profile pictures and mobile uploads.

I combed through them, looking at his friends, the same two or three guys in every photo.

Tapping the arrow, I felt myself growing hot as I stared down at the picture of him with his arm wrapped around a girl.

He was dressed up, slacks and a tie, his hair slicked back out of his face.

Lex was smirking at the camera as the blonde stared up at him, smiling affectionately.

My entire body felt liked I'd been dropped in a lake of lava. I stared at the photo, jealousy writhing in my stomach like a living creature with a mind of its own.

I had no fucking self-control. Flicking back to our messages, I tapped the little phone icon and let it ring .

"You know, you should really get a hobby and stop obsessing over me," Lex said over the line, his tone teasing. I could imagine him wearing that fucking grin that made me want to smack him. Fuck, he was right. I was acting like… well, like him.

"Who is she?"

"Who?" he asked, sounding confused.

"The blonde girl…" I replied bluntly, flicking back to the picture.

"Blonde—" His question died, morphing into a cackle of amusement. "The girl in the red dress?" he clarified, still laughing.

"Yes," I glared down at the phone, my cheeks searingly hot.

"My friend's little sister," he finally answered.

I didn't say anything else, my blood boiling.

I felt stupid and psychotic, stalking his profile like an obsessed teen girl.

Why the fuck did I care, anyway? He wasn't my boyfriend.

He wasn't my, well… my anything . "Charlotte, look at the fucking date. " he chuckled.

I couldn't help but comply. June 13th, 2018. The photo was over two years old. "You're really fucking adorable, you know that?" he asked. My grip on the phone tightened, my hand shaking with anger and humiliation. Before he had a chance to tease me further, I hung up.