Sweet as a Strawberry

36 ~ Sour as the Grinch

Fucking Lottie. Jesus Christ.

"Tell me what you want," I said, staring at her. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she looked away.

"I want to finish making this chicken pie," she said primly.

That just pissed me off even more. "Tell me what you want, Lottie," I said in a quieter voice. I saw panic in her expression, and I frowned. I had just told her my entire life story. I thought she'd understand that I couldn't handle any more abandonment. I thought she'd understand that what I wanted was her.

"I want to finish making this chicken pie," she repeated, not meeting my eyes.

I blew out in frustration. "Lottie," I said, just short of a plea. Could she hear my underlying message?

Did she want me? Or did she want me to leave her?

She bit her lip. "I want you to go wherever makes you happier," she said quietly. 

I watched carefully as she gathered up the peeled potatoes and dumped them into a pot of boiling water, and then as she grabbed a box of puff pastry from the fridge. I looked at my hands and swore under my breath. She affected me so much, and she didn't even realise it.

Lottie looked so small standing near the stove with her shoulders hunched like that, and it made me deflate. "Ask me what I want," I dared loudly.

She paused. "What?"

"You told me to do what made me happy, but you never asked me what I want." I walked towards her as I spoke.

Her shoulders slumped even more. "Look, Ben, I know I'm not that great, but that's kind of a mean thing to ask me to do, you know?"

I took her by the shoulders and gently turned her around. "Ask me," I said.

She sighed, and it took her longer than normal to cover up the sad look on her face. I didn't like that I'd put that sadness there. "Ben, what do you want?"

Instead of answering, I moved my hands to cup her face, and I bent down, kissing her. She stilled for a moment, and then I moved one hand to her curly hair and she melted. Her hands held tightly onto my hips, and I felt the spatula she'd been holding press into my skin.

I moved her away from the stove and pushed her against the island counter, wrapping my arms around her back and pulling her closer. She squeaked into my mouth, and every sane thought flew out of my head and I lost it, and all I knew was that I was kissing Charlotte Carter. I could feel her heart rocketing around in her chest just like mine, and it made me happy because I wasn't the only one affected.

"I love you," I mumbled in between kisses, but it was faint and garbled and I didn't think she heard me.

She finally broke it off and rested her head against my chest. I heard her heavy breathing, and the sound made me smile smugly.

"I don't want to go," I whispered. "And you should've known that."

I felt her shake in my arms, and I tightened my grip. "I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm sorry, please, just go, I know you want to!"

I leant my chin on her head and internally cringed at her behaviour. She shouldn't have said she was in love with me? Was she serious? "I don't want to," I said flatly. "I literally just told you that, so stop questioning me."

"But it's such a good opportunity," she said. "And your dad-"

"I don't give two shits. He'll get over it. I'm starting to think you don't want me around." I frowned. I hoped she wasn't just trying to get rid of me in the nicest way possible. It was Charlotte, after all, letting down men in a way that they couldn't even tell.