Page 25 of The Rest is History

Elodie

W hen I see Charlie again, it’s at the end of the day.

He wanders into my classroom, hands in pockets, as I boot the last stragglers out with their parents.

The sight of him, and the knowledge that he’s seeking me out, makes my energy levels rise as if I haven’t just spent the past hour suffering through the dreaded Whigs and Tories.

‘How’s the wrist?’ I ask him as he stops in front of me, so close I’m able to reach out and brush my fingertips down the front of his shirt.

He laughs and holds up the offending joint, flexing it.

‘Tired. But its lunchtime workout was embarrassingly quick.’

I grin at him like an idiot. ‘And you use your left hand, I see.’

‘Not usually. But I don’t need a stress fracture in my writing hand just now.’

I wince. ‘Sounds vigorous.’

‘Needs must. How was your afternoon?’ He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture feels like a miracle.

‘Whigs and Tories. Brutal.’

‘Ugh. Too bad your esteemed colleague keeps the best century of them all for himself, isn’t it?’

He smirks at me. I really like this side of him. Maybe he should jack off at school more often.

‘My esteemed colleague is looking far too smug for my liking, and I can’t imagine what he thinks he’s achieved today for that to be the case.’

He’s so close to me now. His eyes linger on my lips, and he touches his fingertip to the corner of my mouth.

‘I had a dream come true a couple of hours ago. Something I’ve been hoping for for quite some time now.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s that, then?’

‘I was finally able to give Clara Parker a B for her essay.’

I burst out laughing, and he just stands there, watching me, like it’s the best sight he’s ever seen.

I want him so badly. In every way. I want to jump him right now and koala myself around him. I want him to take me home. Strip me naked. Take me to bed for hours and hours and hours.

‘So,’ I say when I’ve recovered from my giggles. ‘Remember how I mentioned that if you made a move on me as you , and not Henry, I’d be responsive?’

He frowns. ‘I’m pretty sure we proved that point at lunch.’

I hit him in the stomach. Gosh, it’s hard. And flat. And—oh, God. This man is positively irresistible.

‘I meant that now would be a good time for you to ask me out. You know, so we could actually spend time together outside of school like normal human beings. Not that I don’t appreciate all the sneaky orgasms in random rooms, because, you know, I really do. But maybe we could go on an actual date?’

His hand has moved to my neck, his fingers clamped down around the back while his thumb strokes down my jaw. He’s staring at his thumb. Good Lord. What is it with that man and my neck?

‘Charlie? Did you hear what I just said?’

Those eyes flick up from my neck to find my face, and, God, it’s intense being under their blue beam.

‘Come to mine for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll cook.’

My entire body breaks out in goosebumps. I was imagining a glass of wine in a quiet bar. Maybe dinner in a bistro. Not being alone with Charlie Vaughan in his man cave.

Which probably smells of him.

Where there is—presumably—a bed.

Oh my God.

I may not survive this.

CHARLIE

This was a bad idea.

I stand on the porch of my home ( Utopia , if you must know. I can never resist a Thomas More reference). The early evening sunlight picks out Elodie’s approaching figure across the driveway’s lengthening shadows as I take in the view.

And what a view. A flirty little sundress exposing those legs. Buttons from bust to waist. My fingers are already itching to undo them. Her glorious mane of hair, backlit against the golden light.

She’s staring at the house in astonishment. I may have some questions to answer later.

Thrilled as I am to see her, I maintain that this was a bad idea.

Because until now, my home has been my fortress. Some small reprieve from the woman who haunts my thoughts. And I’m about to let her infiltrate it.

From now on, I won’t be able to sit on the sofa or cook at the island or enjoy the view from the terrace across the lawn without knowing how much better it is with her by my side.

Not that it really makes a difference. I’m fucked anyway.

We behaved ourselves at school today. The anticipation of tonight’s date seemed to give her as much of a kick as it did me. But when Zara was out of the office, she came to me at my desk, and slid a hand under the collar of my shirt, and sighed as if having her skin on mine made her happy.

And me? I took the opportunity to run my hand up the back of her bare leg as I stared up at her in disbelief.

Now I smile as she wheels her bike across the gravel.

‘Nice pad, Vaughan.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So which is it—drug baron or crypto millionaire?’

My dogs choose that moment to tear out of the door in twin black streaks, having presumably heard an exciting new voice. Doesn’t happen much around here. They launch themselves at Elodie, barking and throwing themselves around in circles. Ridiculous creatures.

‘Oh my goodness!’

She kicks out the bike stand and stoops to greet them. Lucky fuckers.

‘Hi there! Look at you two! Aren’t you handsome? Aren’t you?’

I wince as Luke’s slobbering tongue catches her right on the cheek. Leia has meanwhile collapsed on her back, wriggling from side to side in delighted anticipation of a tummy rub.

‘Oi!’ I shout in my don’t fuck with me voice. ‘Down!’

‘Oh, he’s okay,’ Elodie says, catching Luke’s large head in her hands and giving him an ear rub. ‘Aren’t you? What’re their names?’

‘The lab is Luke.’ I point at the writhing blur of black on the ground. ‘And the crazy spaniel is Leia.’

‘Cute.’ She squats to rub Leia’s tummy and the dog spasms in delight.

‘And to answer your question, I run a thriving puppy fur business on the side, actually. I spared these two, and I have no idea why.’

‘You’re horrible.’ She coos at Leia. ‘He’s horrible, isn’t he, sweetie? Yes, he is. Yes, he is.’ Leia pants up at her in adoration.

Okay. I’ve now lost patience with my dogs hogging my beautiful visitor. I clap my hands. ‘Come on. Go.’

They clatter off to their next adventure, and I step off the porch and appraise my guest.

‘Hello.’

‘Hi.’ She steps forward shyly and I touch her arm, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. We lean her bike against the pillar—it’s perfectly safe there with the gates shutting behind her—and I gesture for her to head into the house.

I’m definitely checking out her gorgeous legs as she walks in front of me. Her head darts in every direction as we walk into the main reception area, taking in the high ceilings and the banks of huge glass doors.

‘Holy crap, Charlie. This is incredible.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Did you build it? It looks new.’

‘This way.’ I gently lead her out onto the terrace, where I have a bottle of white Burgundy chilling. ‘Yeah. My brother helped me plan it. We did it as a bit of an eco project.’

‘God.’ She stares out at the garden. The pool. ‘So, is that all heated environmentally, then?’

‘It’s mainly geothermal. The house, too. I have a few solar panels.’ I gesture at the roof. ‘And the pool has reed filtration technology, which means no chlorination is needed. I won’t bore you with all the detail, but the whole place has been designed to work with nature, rather than against it.’

‘It’s amazing.’ She turns to me, smiling. ‘Like a dream. And I’d like to hear all about it. I want a full tour later.’

I swallow hard at the thought of showing her around upstairs. At the mere idea of Elodie in my bedroom.

Sweet Jesus.

I’m more nervous than I thought. My past few encounters with her, I’ve been driven by physical need so great that it’s blinded me to common sense and numbed any nerves. But now, she’s standing on my terrace, looking more beautiful than I could have thought possible.

She’s really here.

And I’m in absolute pieces.

‘Of course,’ I say. ‘Er—wine?’

‘Lovely, thank you.’

I pour her a glass and we clink in silence.

‘Let’s sit.’ I point at the huge modular sofa on the terrace. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen asleep on that thing with a book and a glass of wine.

I clear my throat, my gaze sweeping over the exposed, glossy skin of her thighs as she sits down.

She’s spectacular. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’s actually sitting on my sofa.

In my home. It’s blowing my mind, but I’m so fucking tense I could vomit.

‘I have some salads in the fridge,’ I say woodenly.

‘And—I’m planning on putting a sea-bass on the barbecue. ’

‘Sounds incredible. Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ I rake a hand through my hair and exhale. Fucking hell. I’m sweating. It pricks my skin in a light layer. Just breathe. One. Two. Three. Four.

‘Charlie. Are you all right?’

I glance up. She’s staring at me with concern, her glass suspended in midair.

‘Yeah. I’m fine.’ I grit the words out. And exhale.

One. Two. Three. Four. My stomach is churning with nerves.

It’s the most horrible feeling. Jesus Christ, mate.

Get it together. I rack my brains for something to say.

She’s going to think I’m a fucking loon.

‘So… how is your sister? And your niece?’

‘You’re scaring me.’ She puts a hand on my knee. ‘You don’t look well.’

‘God.’ I wipe my palm across my forehead. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just—it’s a lot, to be honest. Having you here.’ Fuck. That came out so wrong.

Her eyes widen. ‘Do you want me to go? I can—leave?’

‘Definitely not. Just give me a second.’ I widen my knees, lower my head, trying to pull myself the fuck together before I blow this fledgling thing with the woman I want more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.

‘Honestly. Maybe I should go—I shouldn’t have bullied you into having me over. I totally railroaded you into a date, and I shouldn’t have. I’ll just make sure you’re okay, and then I’ll leave you to your evening, all right?’

I look up at her. There’s distress in her eyes. Concern. I snag her wrist.

‘Listen to me, Elodie. I have never once been in your presence and wanted you to walk away from me. Not one single time, not since I first met you.’ I take a breath. I need her to know this. ‘In fact, every time you leave a room, my world turns a little darker. Do you understand?’

She watches my face, comprehension dawning at what I’m telling her, and nods.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I tell her. ‘I’m so embarrassed. God . I just…’ I bow my head. ‘I’ve wanted this—us—for a very long time, and now you’re here, and I think I’ve got myself a little wound up over it all.’

Her hand moves over my thigh. Stroking. Soothing. ‘But,’ she says carefully, ‘we’ve been together already, and you definitely didn’t seem… nervous. You seemed pretty damn confident, if anything.’

I chuckle without mirth. ‘Yeah. You could say that. But that was in the heat of the moment. It was spontaneous. Physical. I was very turned on. Now I have you here for a proper date, and it feels like the stakes are higher. I want to make it special for you, but instead I’m falling apart.’

‘Hey.’

She tilts my face up to hers with her fingers. Jesus, she’s beautiful. I can’t not touch her. I smooth a hand over her hair.

‘You are not falling apart. And if you are, that’s fine too, because I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to.’ Her expression turns mischievous. ‘And the stakes aren’t high, because I’m a sure thing tonight.’

Jesus Christ. My eyes drift briefly closed.

I wonder if that’s part of the problem—knowing I’ll likely get to make love to Elodie tonight.

My circumstances haven’t changed. I no more deserve her now than I did when she started at Hampton Park.

And yet, I’m hurtling down this path and pulling her with me.

Maybe I have performance anxiety. Perhaps that’s what it is.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ I mutter, my hand moving in her hair. One. Two. Three. Four.

‘Come on. Yes, you do.’ She pauses. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

She stares at my mouth. ‘Do you think maybe you’ve just bigged this evening up a little too much in your mind?’

‘Entirely likely.’

‘But when we’re… physically intimate, there’s no issue. Like, you’re just in the moment, because’—her mouth twists—‘it’s so good between us.’

I smile at her. ‘You could definitely say that.’

‘Then maybe we should do tonight backwards.’ Her hand goes to the top of her dress, and my mouth goes dry as she slips the top button out of its buttonhole. ‘Maybe we should get physical first.’