"Thank you for having me over," I said as we stepped through the front door of Chuck's house. Chuck owned a small home in Huntington Beach. It wasn't too far from the cafe, which explained his frequent visits.
"Of course," he said. "Welcome!" The home was brightly lit and well decorated with beautiful curtains and furniture with bright and bold colors. It had a very vintage, mid-century feel to the decor and color choices. I was surprised to find things so well decorated and not so bachelor pad like.
"I love your furniture, it's so pretty in here," I said. Chuck shrugged.
"I didn't really pick it. My ex did but she didn't want the house so I got everything," he said, scratching the back of his head.
"Oh... well I still like it," I said. Chuck smiled at me.
"How does pasta sound for dinner?"
"That sounds amazing," I said. I followed Chuck into the kitchen to find ingredients measured out and spread over the counter. A cookbook was propped up and opened to the recipe he was following. Chuck walked over to a cabinet and pulled out two wine glasses and filled them with a red wine before handing one to me.
"Thank you for coming over," he said, holding his glass up to me. I smiled and clinked mine against his.
"And thank you for hopefully not murdering me tonight," I teased. Chuck laughed, nearly having to spit his sip of wine out so he wouldn't choke. I couldn't help the wide smile across my face.
I sat down at the kitchen island as Chuck cooked, chatting with him aimlessly about everything and anything. He seemed to know the recipe pretty well, only glancing at the cookbook a couple times to reference cook times.
Once dinner was ready, we both sat down at his large wooden dining table to eat. The pasta and sauce he made was delicious and I helped myself to seconds.
"I'm so glad to have you here," Chuck said as we cleaned up dinner.
"Really?" I asked him. He nodded, rinsing dishes in the sink before loading them into the dish washer.
"It just feels nice to not have to be on edge," he said. "In class it's so hard not to focus on you... and when we're out I'm worried we'll run into someone from school."
"I know," I said, chewing my lip as I thought. "This is nice..." I brought a couple more dishes to the sink for Chuck.
"What would you like to do?" He asked me.
"Well," I said. "How about you show me around the house?"
"Sure, and after that?"
"We'll see where the night takes us." Chuck looked up at my response. I smiled at him and gave him a small wink. He turned back to the dishes, clearing his throat.
"Would you, uh, like more wine?" He asked me. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips at his nervousness.
"Sure," I said. Chuck finished up loading the dishwasher and dried his hands. He opened a new bottle of wine, us having finished the first one, and poured me a glass. I took a long sip from the wine, savoring the sweetness. I licked my lips clean as Chuck stared at me, his eyes darker than before. I smiled.
"So, tour?" I asked him. He nodded. Chuck grabbed my hand gently, his warm calloused skin pressed into my soft cold hand. He lead me down a hallway. A set of stairs were off to the left, and a bedroom and bathroom were to the right.
"That's the guest bathroom and bedroom, there's nothing exciting in there," he said quickly, before tugging me along up the stairs. Three more bedrooms were upstairs. I suddenly realized how large this house was for just him, it looked much smaller from the outside.
"That room is empty," Chuck said, pointing at the first door. "I don't know what I want to do with it still.... There's another bathroom here..." he pointed to the second door. He moved towards the third door, and opened it.
"This is my studio," he said as we stepped inside. Paintings littered the floor in piles, and multiple easels were set up next to different tables, each covered with their own pallet and arrangement of paints. In the corner was a huge roll of canvas propped up, presumably for new canvases to be stretched. I walked up to each painting, observing the different scenes Chuck had painted. The first was of what looked like the Huntington Beach pier at night. The second, the smallest of the three, was a beautiful scene of coral and fish.
The third was the largest. A circular canvas was filled with a swirl of different greens and blues. Chuck had taken either clay or paper maché and built tendrils coming in and out of the canvas. I was mesmerized by the painting.
"This is incredible," I said. Chuck walked over to where I was standing.
"It's what I saw when I went scuba diving last summer," he said. "I'm trying something new."
"It has such an ethereal sensation to it," I said. "It's absolutely beautiful." I looked over at Chuck and he was staring at me. He smiled at me and I smiled back. He took a step closer to me, closing the space between us. I clenched the half full wine glass to my chest. He gently caressed my cheek before running his thumb across my lips. I shivered at his touch and he gave me a sly smile.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" He asked. I nodded, speechless. Chuck took my hand in his again and led me out of his studio and away from his paintings. He opened the last door at the end of the hall, and revealed his bedroom.
The slanted ceiling was paneled with white wood that made the ceiling feel even taller. The wall behind his bed was painted a deep navy and his large bed had a tall upholstered grey frame and navy comforter to match. A media center with book shelves and a tv lined the wall across from his bed. An archway led to his bathroom where I could catch glimpses of white and black tile from the entrance of his room.
"This is my room," Chuck said, his voice low and sultry. He pulled my hand gently and I followed him into the room. I took a long sip from my wine glass again, glancing around the room. Large photos of underwater scenery were framed around the room. The windows across from his bed were open and a cool ocean breeze wafted in, blowing through the orange patterned curtains. I smiled, the colors of his room were beautiful and inspiring.
I looked over at Chuck who was watching me intently. I set down my wine glass on his nightstand and stepped closer to him.
"You have a really beautiful home," I said. He smiled.
"Thank you," he said softly. I stepped closer to him again, and Chuck's eyes flickered from my lips to my eyes. I smiled.
"Winona," he said. "I hope you know I didn't invite you here for sex." I shook my head.
"I know," I said, taking another step towards him. There was now barely any space between us. I could smell his cologne, the musty light scent enveloping me, making my toes curl.
"Are you okay?" He asked me. I nodded. The liquid courage I had been drinking was taking over. I reached out and touched Chuck's chest, slowly running my hands up and to his shoulders. I pulled myself closer to him, pressing our chests together, and kissed him.
Chuck groaned against my lips, and after a moment, wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me into him tighter, pressing our bodies together until there was no space between us. He bit my lip softly and I gasped. Chuck slipped his tongue into my mouth and I moaned, our tongues dancing together. I ran my hands down his shoulders and chest. He let out another groan at my touch and I smiled against his lips.
Suddenly, Chuck pulled away from me. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His now dark eyes met mine.
"What's wrong?" I asked him. He shook his head.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked. I nodded. "How much did you have to drink?"
"Like three glasses," I said. "I'm fine, Chuck."
"I want to make sure you're comfortable," he said. He started pulling away from me. I grabbed him and pulled him back.
"I am, why won't you believe me?"
"I just don't want this to be something you regret," he said. I shook my head again.
"It's not something I'll regret, but if you want to wait longer I understand," I said with a sigh. I released my hold on Chuck's arm and he stepped away from me, putting some space between us. Tears pricked my eyes and I chewed the inside of my lip to stop them from spilling over.
"Winona," Chuck said. He wrapped his arms around me in a hug. "It's not that I don't want to. I just want to take things slow, and make sure you're not going to regret doing something." I sniffed, resisting the urge to cry. I know the wine was making me teary, but I couldn't help but feel like Chuck didn't want me. Maybe I was coming off too strong.
"It's okay," I said, pulling myself out of his hug. "I'm sorry."
"No, you don't need to apologize."
"I... I should probably go," I said. Chuck shook his head.
"I'd rather you stayed. It's still early and I don't want you driving just yet - you had 3 glasses of wine."