Page 19 of Charming
Asher gets out of bed and walks toward me, and good god he’s naked. And he’s glorious. Once again, I’m distracted. My eyes roam all over his body and I feel breathless at the sight. He grasps my upper arms softly, “Ella?” My eyes find his and I’m lost in his gaze. “What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”
Without another word, I swallow hard, then turn my phone to him in order to show him the photo Katie sent me. His brow lowers and I stare at his face for a moment, dissecting every twitch and furrow. Holding up my other hand, I show him the silver ring I’m wearing, it’s glinting emphasizing the photo. I remember how after we had our brilliant idea to get married, we stopped at a vendor’s booth that sold jewelry and looked for matching rings and found a pair within minutes. Reaching for his hand, I grab it and hold it up for him to see. No words needed, the picture and our rings clear enough.
He looks at his ring, and I swear I see a twitch at his lips and something flash in his eyes that I can’t decipher. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again not knowing what else to say, and turning my head away not wanting to see the look on his face. I don’t know what else to say to him, anything else seems inadequate.
“You’re upset that we got married?”
My head spins around so fast my neck aches. “You remember?” He nods and this time, he does smile. “And you aren’t upset?” I ask, my voice rising at the question in disbelief and confusion.
He shrugs, “It was my idea. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. Remember?”
Staring at him, at the curve of his lips, the look in his eyes, the memory comes to me easily. We were walking through the streets, looking at all the little shops and clubs. Workers of each place were trying to get us to come inside their establishment, some being pushy, some using humor, and others both. Asher’s hand was in mine, steadying me as I hobbled on my feet a bit. He turned to me, his eyes full of question. “All night, you smile here,” he says fingers brushing my lips, “but at times I can see pain in here,” his thumb brushes the underside of each eye gently. “I see stress or sadness here,” he touches the lines between my brows next. “Tell me why. Tell me how I can make it go away.”
And I tell him. I tell him about my disastrous relationship, the back stabbing betrayal, my sham of an engagement, and the circus of a wedding. I tell him how Katie and I decided to run away and that in a way I feel guilty that I don’t feel worse. It’s like I had my cry, felt the rage, but then was able to let go. I remember him turning to me, laughter still on his face after I told him about punching Jeremy and even showed him the bruises still lacing my knuckles. His face lit up with his idea, “Well, we’ll just show him. How about you and I get married? Nothing says I’ve moved on better, right?”
I laughed and told him it was the best idea ever. We efficiently bought rings, found a little chapel open for just such occasions and said ‘I do’ in no time. We took all kinds of selfies, bought a picture package if I recall and came back here and had wild monkey sex. We didn’t waste any time consummating the marriage that’s for sure. Over and over, if memory serves. I could be embarrassed about that, but hell, who would blame me?
“It may have been your idea as a joke, but clearly I’m the one that posted pictures and told the world and oh god, that is totally your publicist or agent calling isn’t it? I bet they’re going to be so pissed. No doubt they are calling with ideas and instructions on how to get rid of me and the evidence of this insanity.” Okay yeah. I’m pretty sure I’ve just entered hysterical territory.
And Asher? Well he shocks me, because helaughs. “Princess, calm down. I remember every detail about last night. Every detail.” He says enunciating the last two words with such emphasis while looking me up and down lustfully. Chills break out over my body and I pull the comforter tighter around me as if that will help fight them off. “I could care less what my publicist or anyone else has to say about this, they don’t own me.” I stare at him open-mouthed not able to form words in the slightest. “They can keep calling all they want,” he grabs his phone and just as it starts vibrating again in his hand, he powers it off.
“You aren’t mad? How are you not mad?”
He shrugs, “I’m just not.”
“But, I can’t even imagine the kind of field day the press will have over this. It will screw up your career.”
He scoffs, “Says who?” He runs the tips of his fingers down my arms making me shudder. “Look it’s not a big deal. So we got drunk and decided to get married, oh well. You know what I remember about last night? I remember having fun – with you. The most fun I’ve had in…I don’t even know how long. Getting to know someone without pressure and expectations, acting spontaneously and genuinely enjoying myself? It’s been far too long.”
“Getting to know someone is one thing, but we’ve known one another all of five minutes and we’ve had sex and are married. Oh god, I’m like the world’s biggest whore.”
Humor fades from his face and his jaw tightens, “Stop that. No matter what happens, I won’t have you talking about yourself in that way. Not ever. Look,” his thumb traces my jaw and I get the feeling he likes touching me. “How much longer are you here again? Another week right?”
“Yes. Katie leaves tomorrow night. I’d like to spend some time with her before she goes, but I’m still here another week. Alone.”
He smiles, “Perfect. This week, let’s have fun together. I want to have more moments with you like we enjoyed last night. I want to know more about you, I want to do things with you like swim, snorkel, eat amazing food and get suntans, walk on the beach, and if I’m a lucky bastard make love to you again.” How I remain standing after that comment, I have no idea. “When this week is over, we’ll worry about the marriage thing, but for now, let’s just be Asher and Ella. Be mine for this week. Let’s just have fun together, please? Will you do that, Ella?”
He’s serious. The set of his jaw, the look in his eyes, and determination on his face tell me that much. But there’s more to it than that. From our talks last night and the earnestness with his question today, there’s something more. It’s the way he talks about last night, it’s almost wistful, and his words are full of longing and maybe a hint of desperation. I get the feeling if I say no, he’ll plead with me to change my mind. He says he wants to have fun, no pressure, but I think he’s also lonely. And I find myself amazed that someone with a life like his, a movie star, surrounded by people that cater to his every whim, money coming out his ears, could experience something such as loneliness. But isn’t that the thing? Sometimes it’s when you’re surrounded that you feel the most lost, the most alone. Especially when you’re surrounded with falseness and insincerity. I know what that’s like.
Last night, I had fun too. I never once thought about Jeremy until Asher asked about why I seem to be carrying stress. I never felt sad or ashamed or guilty like I shouldn’t be enjoying my time with him. And yes, I made one hell of a mistake in getting married, but that can be fixed. How many chances like this happen in a lifetime? None. Yeah, he may be Asher Charming, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that the thought of being with him doesn’t make me halfway delirious, but it’s more than that. It’s the chance to have fun, to forget. It’s the chance to let myself simply live and enjoy life with a gorgeous man by my side for a week. A week where our experiences will make memories, and gain me a friend, that will hopefully last a lifetime. We can just have fun, no pressure, no strings.
He runs his fingertips up and down my arms as he’s waiting for my answer. My phone is continuing to chime and I give it a glance and throw it on the bed. With a nod, I look into his eyes, “Can I ask one question first?”
“Of course.”
“Why? Why spend a week together?”
“I can read you, and I know that you feel whatever this is between us, just like I do. I also know that you had fun last night, just like me. More than fun. We have a connection, a real connection, and as if that’s not enough, you’re different. You treat me, like me. I’m a guy, incredibly attracted and intrigued by a girl and I’m not ready to let go of this feeling. Yeah, so we skipped a few steps,” I roll my eyes at his flippancy and he laughs. “Like I said, we can handle that later, if necessary, until then, let’s make the most of it. You’re real, and genuine, and it’s been one hell of a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time in the company of a woman with those attributes. And I find that I like it. I like you.”
“I like you too,” I reply honestly.
He smiles and it lights up his face. “So you agree? Let’s not worry about our uh, event last night, and just enjoy each other, okay?”
Nodding, I return his smile, “You know what? That sounds perfect.” Though I can’t help but think, even momentarily, of the ‘if necessary’ phrase he included in his passionate plea for us to just resume where we left off.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
