Page 44 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

“Yes.”

She draws her legs up under her. She’s on the verge of doing something reckless, she can just tell. And yet, it’s almost like she’s outside of her own body, hearing herself talk. “Well, have you got evidence for it?”

“No. More... just a feeling.”

“Then it’s not really a theory, is it?” TJ challenges, remembering Simran telling her that. “A theory by definition has a strong base of solid evidence.”

“Side Opposition makes a good point.” Charlie shifts slightly on the couch to fully face her. Casually, he braces his hand onthe backrest beside her head. “A hypothesis, then.”

If she turned her head, her lips would brush against his knuckles. She inhales slowly, and his smell closes in, ironed linens that remind her of lazy Sunday mornings. She studies the waves of brown hair that cascade (carefully) over his forehead, that tie embellishing a throat she aches to touch. A button-down shirt that begs her to press her nose into it. A boy she’s spent her entire debating career trying to make tongue-tied, and well, maybe she’s been going about it the wrong way this whole time.

Her eyes travel back to his. She likes what she sees in his gaze. It’s not the way Liam ever looked at her, like he couldn’t help himself because she was hot. Charlie doesn’t look at her like he thinks she’s hot. He looks at her like he thinks she’s weird, and he likes it. A lot.

And god, does it feel good to make his breathing turn uneven. To lean closer and not have him lean away. It feels good to be wanted.

And the thing is, this ridiculous impulse she’s currently having couldwork. Zero complications or attachments, because after this weekend, they’re going their separate ways. She’s not going to Nationals; her last soccer tournament is that weekend, so she won’t even be present. This is their last debate together.

She brushes away the wave of sadness that comes with that thought. Now is the perfect time for a little experimentation. Just a kiss with a guy who’s attracted to her. Maybe it’ll be nice. Maybe it’ll be awful. Who cares? She can leave it behind, here in this posh Vancouver hotel, and never revisit it again.

Not only that, but this... this could be her rebuttal to the Liam argument. This could be the ace in the hole. All she has to do is close the distance.

“Do you want to hear the hypothesis?” Charlie asks quietly.

She doesn’t even remember what they were talking about. She’s just staring at his lips. Is she doing this? Wow, she’s totally doing this. “Shut up, Charlie.”

And then she bites the bullet and leans in all the way.

It’s an awkward fumble at first. She goes in too fast and he’s not quite ready and their lips don’t line up properly. And TJ thinks,Huh, it’s a good thing I can leave this behind.

But a few seconds in, he relaxes, tilts his head the extra degree they need to fit together, and everything falls into place. His hand drags off the couch next to her head and she doesn’t know where his hands are at all for a moment. Then she feels them both at once, sliding, cupping her jaw, making her shudder.

And TJ thinks,Oh no. I can’t leave this one behind.

Because they’re kissing properly now: the toe-curling, sweet kind, mouths meeting gently and parting. His lips are soft, and his touch even gentler. One hand slides down her neck to her shoulder, down her arm. He draws her closer and she reaches for him, too, bunching up the material of his shirt. He makes a sound low in his throat when she runs her fingers through his hair—so soft—and something scorching hot flares to life in her body.

Holy crap. She’s kissing Charlie Rosencrantz. Her heart speeds up giddily, leaving her brain and all her logicalreasoning behind. The banquet they’re missing doesn’t matter. Liam doesn’t matter. Her resolution doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but this.

They break for air. Charlie starts to say something. TJ doesn’t let him; she pulls him back in by the knot of his tie.

He doesn’t exactly protest. His hands slide down her sides, and he kisses her with the same singular focus he brings to every debate. The warmth in her belly liquefies to something molten and heavy, sinking lower, pressing against her insides, burning her from within.

Mindlessly, she puts her hands on his shoulders and rises up on her knees to get closer. She only half gets in his lap before he presses his mouth against her throat.Oh.Okay. He ghosts his hand up the back of her neck and winds her long hair around his wrist, tugging her head back.

Her head tips to the side like a rag doll, lulled by his lazy movements. She’s enjoying it, at least until one of her own long, dangling earrings taps against her jaw.

Her hair’s pulled out of her face like a ponytail. Exposing her earrings, but also... everything she was trying to hide. Her limbs lock up.

Ohno.

Charlie’s sensed her hesitation and has stopped. Now he’s just looking up at her, and she hates it, because they’re so up close and personal, he can see and feel how hairy she is. It’s not something you miss. How did she totally forget about this earlier when they were staring at each other?

Is he grossed out? Or has he not really registered it yet? It’sdark in here, after all. That must be it. She should pull away now before he realizes.

But. If she pulls away she’ll lose her internal debate. The resolutionThis House Believes That TJ Powar can be her hairy self and still be beautifulwould fall like a rock, because it would be proven beyond doubt that not even she believes her own argument.

She has to keep going. Resolution aside, TJwantsto keep going. Preferably in a private setting. She likes everything they’re doing, and wants more.

But then her brain supplies her with a horrible image: taking off her dress, showing her happy trail, and watching the distaste flicker through his eyes—