As had happened the last time, she refused to participate, while I lit up.
You see, Charis tasted … right. No, not just right-perfect. How had I resisted kissing her all these years?
After that first hungry taste, I began to put my skill to work. I explored her mouth, keeping her head still, teasing and nipping. At last I felt her tongue tentatively come forward.
Thrill! Charis Sloane, my completely platonic and clearly innocent best friend, was, very sweetly, kissing me back.
After that, there was no stopping me. I paid no attention to our observers and did my best to consume her. I kissed her like she had all the experience I did. I had no excuse. Except for the being a ruthless ass part.
After I-don't-know-how-long, I did make myself let her go. By then she was limp in my arms and my cock was in a full-blown rage, yelling, Good job, you've got her, now finish it, now, now, now.
Not exactly coolly, I assessed the situation. Aura was staring at us with horror. Karl's expression was one of utter incredulity.
And Charis … despite being flushed, out of breath, and having melted in my arms-that's actually Joel's term-he uses "the melt" to describe the way a woman looks when a kiss makes her leak her panties, and Char definitely had the "melted" look-she also looked livid.
Right, I might have fucked up again.
Karl scratched his eyebrow, twisted his head on his neck … sighed … and threw a punch. Just at my shoulder, where it spun me a quarter of the way around, so a token swat, but still.
The gratifying thing, though? Charis grabbed his arm and held him back. "No, don't hit him."
Defending me from her fiancé … I chose to take that as a good sign.
"I want you," I proclaimed loudly, rubbing my shoulder, and glanced down at Aura. "I want her. I finally realized you were right. All this time, it was Charis I wanted. I'm a despicable bastard. You can say good riddance to me now, Aura. I'm bad news."
Aura's face clouded up and, predictably, she burst into tears. Karl muttered something, came over and patted her back. Aura looked up at him with dazed, grieved eyes.
And Charis-she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. As she looked back and forth from me to Aura, I saw comprehension dawn. Saw when she realized, He's using me to give Aura the shaft.
Then that livid expression I mentioned before?
It was nothing to this. I'd never seen my best friend so enraged. She shoved me back so hard I stumbled into the street. Then she took off.
CHAPTER 13
Three Years Ago-Hinting
Charis: Birthday cake tastes good-why?
Asher: Taste buds. Neurotransmitters and hormones and shit. Dopamine, endorphins, serotonin …
Charis: No, no, I don't mean the physical stuff. I'm talking about the subjective experience. The intangibles. Why do we love cake? Especially lemon cake, mmm.
Asher: I hate lemon cake.
Charis: Traitor! And keep your focus, here.
Asher: Then say birthday cake, not lemon cake. Because lemon cake is vile.
Charis: Pluh. Whatever. We love birthday cake. Why? Why is it that we know, like, without question, that birthday cake tastes good? We can't prove it. It's like love. When you feel it, you have all these signs and symptoms, and you know it's there, you're positive you love someone, you even know some of the reasons, but when you try to pin it down, you can't.
Asher: Life is like that.
Charis: Don't be dismissive, it's really an interesting question.
Asher: No, I'm saying organic life is like that. When you try to define it by its properties, to distinguish it from non-life, you come up against a wall. No single set of criteria applies to all recognized life forms.
Charis: So it's like obscenity? You can't say what it is, you just know it when you see it?
Asher: Exactly.
Charis: Get out. Life isn't subjective, it has objective reality. You can define it. It's simple. If you can reproduce, you're totally alive.
Asher: Yeah, so crystals and viruses reproduce and they're not alive. Try again.
Charis: Well fuck me. I wonder if anyone's done a thesis.
Asher: Probably. Damn, talking with you makes me dizzy, Sloane. How did we get from birthday cake to the cosmic truths of life? And why are you thinking about love and birthday cake today of all days?
Charis: Well since you ask, it's my birthday. I was trying to hint. I've been hinting all week, you oaf. Obviously I'm way too subtle because nobody's wishing me happy birthday here.
Asher: Well, whadya know? How old are you again? Oh, yeah. A decrepit old woman of twenty-three.
Charis: Listen, whippersnapper …
Asher: Here you go, little girl. Happy birthday. I wanted to throw you a big party, but Aura's got plans for some fashion benefit. Hey, treat it with respect. I spent ten minutes wrapping that thing.
Charis: Asher! Omigod, this is the most amazing hat I've ever seen!
Asher: It's definitely you.
Charis: Totally. I take back the oaf slur. I have just now fallen in love with you.
Asher: Such was my evil plan.
Asher
I CAUGHT UP TO CHARIS quickly but lagged behind to give her a chance to cool off. As a big, buff guy openly trailing a scrap of a young woman carving her way frantically through pedestrian traffic, I was being eyed suspiciously. If I'd had the bad-boy vibe Karl had going I'd fully have expected to hear sirens.
As it was, pics were probably hitting social media before I stopped her by grabbing her sleeve.
"Hold up, Charis!"
She whirled around, backing up. "Stay away from me, Asher."
I held up both hands but kept coming.
"I'm sorry," I said humbly. When she narrowed her eyes and kept retreating, I appealed to our witnesses, some of whom had come forward all badass. "Tell her I'm sorry, will you?"
I'm not ashamed to admit I can work a crowd. The militant looks vanished. Phones were held up. Record buttons were pressed. Our press of impromptu paparazzi chimed in as one, "He's sorry!"
"He's totally not," Charis countered. "He is unabashedly unapologetic, no matter what he says. He can, and will, sweet talk a street light into turning green and back to red when he's through-and then deny the whole thing." She flounced away.
Cool. I'd never seen her flounce before.
I darted after her.
"Sloane, listen to me, listen, dammit. I'm sorry I kissed you." I lowered my voice. "No, you're absolutely right, I'm not. I'm sorry I kissed you like that. No, no, okay. I'm not sorry for that. What I am is sorry I kissed you for that particular reason, all right?"
"Why?" Suddenly she was facing me again, and I nearly slammed into her. "Why would you do that to me? Why would you lie to your girlfriend like that? It was mean behavior and I've never known you to be a mean person, Asher Norrell."
I winced, but had no defense. All I could say was, "You know she's not my girlfriend."
"She acted like she was."
"She was mistaken about that. Her interpretation and my interpretation of what happened Sunday apparently suffered a disconnect."
"A disconnect. About your breakup. In which you ended a multi-year relationship potentially leading up to marriage. Huh. And so you thought-"
"I thought it would be a clean way to close the wound, let her know it was, indeed, a hundred percent over between us."
"By kissing me."
Shit. When she put it like that. "Correct."
"And pretending you had a secret passion for me? That there is your idea of closure?" She drew back her leg and thwacked me in the side of the knee with her boot.
My involuntary laugh turned turned into a cough as I became aware she wasn't being funny but was glaring at me with real rage. I sucked in a deep breath.
Might as well lay it on the line.
"Yes, because it's no pretense, Sloane. Not a word of what I said was an untruth. I finally figured that out, once the Platonic Shutter came up."
"What are you talking about? Platonic whutter?"
I looked at her steadily. I felt my hands get moist despite the cold and wiped them on my jacket. "Here's some news. I never really got over my thing for you, Charis Sloane."
Charis jerked back as if shot. As in, her whole body staggered backwards, right up against the brick wall of the New Highland Central Laundromat.
"Watch it!"
She rubbed the back of her head. "You never got over what?"
I have to admit I was pretty bemused by the strength of her reaction. It reassured me somewhat. Okay, I admit it. I was nervous as fuck. I'm no stammering nerd, not anymore, but you know, heart on sleeve and everything.
"My thing. Following you around. Puppy love." She looked blank, so I went straight to the heart of the matter. "The ice cream picnic? The trying to smash faces with you as a skinny-assed punk? The thing you pretended never happened, sweetness?"