Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (37 page)

C
harlie and I walked upstairs hand in hand. When we got to his door, he tugged me in.

“My room is down the hall,” I said quietly.

“No, your place is with me. You’re sleeping in my bed tonight,” he said pulling me into his arms. The smell of him soothed me, and although I had been yawning and ready to crawl into bed and fall asleep only a few minutes earlier, the smell of Charlie, the feel of Charlie, woke up certain areas of my body. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt that certain areas of
his
body were also wide awake.

“Charlie,” I cautioned. “We can’t… Everyone’s downstairs. Wide awake—” His lips crashed down on mine, silencing my remaining protests. My tongue darted out, no longer willing to partake in any resistance. His kiss was slow and tender claiming my mouth. His hands were careful and loving across my back, securing my body to his. I was amazed at how I could go from practically sleep walking to wickedly aroused by his touch and kiss.

“Shhh… I just want to sleep with you.”

“Sleep. Right,” I said sarcastically.

“Honest,” he said stepping back and holding up one hand, and drawing an X over his heart. “I promise. Cross my heart.”

Charlie closed the door softly, and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on his duffle. Then he dropped his jeans, leaving his boxers on, this pair a red plaid, and slid into bed. He propped himself on his side, his head resting on his hand. “Well, come on. I’m tired.” He patted the bed next him.

With a careful eye on him, I pushed my jeans over my hips and tossed them with his, leaving my t-shirt and undies on, and slid in next to him. He adjusted us so that I was tucked into him, and he was spooning me. He swept my hair aside and snaked the arm under him so that it was now under my neck and my head rested on his arm. His top arm rested over my waist, his hand gently cupping my breast and my hand instinctively covered his. I felt so safe. So respected. So loved.

“If you change your mind, I’ll help you be the best mother,” Charlie whispered from behind me.

The bubble popped and I couldn’t check my reaction. I stiffened. Panic ran through me. Did he want me to keep it? Was all that he said about adoption just a line? Like those lines from the show?

“Charlie, I—” I shook my head and tried to pull away. His grip tightened.

“Shhh…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said, his own voice expressing panic.

“Charlie, I’m not sure I…” I started, my voice trembling. “I’m not sure I ever want to be a mom. It may be that I’m only nineteen, but…Children aren’t on my radar.”

Charlie’s grip around me loosened in an uncomfortable way. He may as well have pulled his arms from me completely. I rolled over and faced Charlie. He seemed to relax when he could look into my eyes.

“Charlie…” I searched his eyes. I
needed
him to understand. “Like I said, I’m only nineteen,” I repeated. “I have no idea what I want my life to be. I only know that I want to learn to stand on my own two feet. I have dreams, Charlie, and I’m not ready to let them go,” I continued, hearing my mother’s words from just a month ago echo in my head.
Don’t get married too early. Live on your own. Be responsible for you… Stand on your own two feet. That’s something I never did… If you don’t learn to stand on your own two feet, you’ll become whoever the other person wants you to be, not who you are.

“I didn’t mean you should do what you don’t want to. Only that Carrie told me that when I was born, she wanted to keep me. At that moment in the delivery room, emotion hit her square in her heart, and she wanted to be my mother. But she’d made promises, and her parents were in no way going to support her and Dillon. And Dillon didn’t have a job that could support her and a baby. She said she’d had a change of heart. And I just wanted you to know, that no matter what you choose…”

“Okay. But, I look at how wonderful things turned out for you…and how could I not want the very best for this baby. I’m too young and I have too many things I want to do. I want to learn to stand on my own two feet. I want to know who I am. And what I really want out of life. And, I know it sounds terrible, but I really don’t need
any
reminders of Dickwad Danny.”

“I understand,” he said. His eyes searched mine and things clicked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He sighed and kissed the tip of my nose. “I can’t wait to see ‘who you are’ and where your dreams take you.” He leaned in and softly kissed my lips.

I searched his face and saw that he
did
understand. “Thank you,” I whispered, and kissed him back.

He pushed in, deepening the kiss, and I felt his excitement grow.

“Hey, you said sleep. You promised.”

“I can’t help what you do to me.”

“Well, help it. We have to wake up early.” I turned my back and re-spooned in his arms, smiling all the while. He snuggled up close to me.

“I love you. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, then planted a kiss on the back of my head.

“I love you, too, Charlie Dillinger Smith.” I took his hand and kissed it, then replaced it back on my breast. He gave me a squeeze, and sighed contentedly.

A few minutes later, I realized that his breathing had become regular, and his arm grew heavy. He had fallen asleep.

I woke to the early morning light, still spooned in Charlie’s arms. I stretched gently so I didn’t wake him, but I was surprised that he was already awake.

“Wanna go make more wishes before we head to the airport?” he asked, sounding like a kid on Christmas morning.

I hugged him tight, not wanting to climb out of our cocoon, I whined, “But all of my wishes are right here.” I kissed him gently, and then not so gently.

Charlie pulled back and looked at me sweetly. “There are always more wishes to be made. Besides,” he kissed the tip of my nose, and fingered my blonde hair, “you look amazing in the morning light.”

So, we dressed quickly and crept past Shannon’s bedroom door, out to the gazebo. Our gazebo. Charlie was right. There were so many wishes I still wanted to make. I wished for a good home for this baby. I wished for understanding from my mom. I wished that things with Charlie and I would still be good when we got back to New York, and he became ‘Chase’ again.

I
loved wishing on morning glories, and this morning it seemed especially important that I get out there and wish, and wish and wish.

I wished for my mom’s treatment to continue doing what it was designed to do, kill the fucking cancer, and the doctor was certain that it was. I wished that when Phoebe and I got back to New York, that I would still be Charlie, and not the fake Chase that I always became when I was away from home. And I wished that Phoebe would let me take care of her, no matter what her end decision was with this baby.

Nothing had made me feel as important as I felt when I was with her. She seemed to make my world balanced. She was genuine. She was complex. She was perfect. I only I hoped that I would be enough for her. That my work wouldn’t get in the way. Michael hadn’t been able to work me off all of the projects I was lined up to do while I went back to school, and it was those film shoots that I was worried about. I’d be away for long periods of time. The film shoot in India would be the hardest. I’d be gone for six weeks. There was the film festival in France. Maybe she’d come with? And there were still some publicity slots on talk programs I had to honor. I knew I’d use every opportunity to let the world know that a new Chase was in effect. Maybe I’d even start using Charlie Smith. Sean-Puff Daddy-Diddy-P.-Diddy-Combs did it. Yeah, I wasn’t a rock star, but…nine programs, five of which were in syndication, and four films with a new release coming had to count for something?

W
e drove to the airport hand in hand, not saying much, but we didn’t have to. We flew home, in First Class seats, which was good because they served a rather decent breakfast. Since we’d left the farm so early, we’d only had time for toast, juice and coffee, although Charlie tutted me about the cup of Joe.

On the plane, I tried to divert my thoughts from the upcoming meeting with my mom, by reading. I opened my Kindle app on my iPad mini and opened the book I was reading.
Better Than Me
by a new Indie author on the scene, Emme Burton. It was a steamy story about college co-eds. I realized that I was a lot like the female lead, Biz, and that her leading man, Davis, was in some ways like Charlie. The scene I was at was a smokin’ hot sex scene and I started to squirm in my seat.

“Whoa, hot!” he whispered, reading over my shoulder. “Let’s go join the Mile High Club.” He started to get out of his seat, and leaned over to say, “Meet me in the lav in a minute.”

I pulled him back down to his seat, looking at the older couple sitting across the aisle from us. “We will not!” I hissed, and slunk down into my seat, as red as a steamed lobster.

After that, I couldn’t focus and the flight felt super short. Maybe because I was horny as fuck over Charlie, and nervous as hell over the discussion I had to have with my mom. I had to find a doctor. I had to find an adoption agency. I started to feel so overwhelmed. You know what they say, “Time flies when you’re having fun”? Yeah, well it also flies when you don’t want to face something.

When we landed and deplaned, Charlie and I walked down the corridor. I desperately wanted to hold his hand down the corridor at JFK Airport, to have some sort of stability, but Chase insisted on carrying both of our bags. He didn’t want me to over-extend myself. It didn’t take long before we were surrounded by paparazzi snapping photos of us. God, I hadn’t missed them while we were in Georgia.

They were shouting all sorts of questions, and crowding in on Chase, pushing me out of the circle. At first the questions were all about his hair. “Chase! What happened to your hair? Did you lose another bet?” and, “Did they make you cut your hair in rehab?” and, “Did you cut your hair for a new role, Chase?” Omigod. I somehow had gotten used to his nearly bald head and had forgotten that he’d have a lot of fallout from his totally amazing show of support to his mother.

Charlie took it in stride and opened the long sleeved button down covering to show off the “Save the Ta-Ta’s” shirt underneath. He’d thought of everything. Like he knew he’d be questioned about this as soon as the cameras caught him. “Just supporting the amazing women who go bald, not by choice,” he said, flashing his signature, paparazzi smile.

Once that was laid to rest, the camera guys and their lackeys moved onto questions they’d already had in mind, instead of Charlie’s surprise head of hair or lack thereof. Some were asking about the rumors of him backing out of projects, some asking about his rumored move to New York, and some asking about me. One guy with a TMZ camera cornered Charlie with a truly bizarre question. “Chase, Sydney Young said that if she were to have a baby with anyone, it would be with you. Would you have a baby with Sydney?”

I cringed two-fold. One, Charlie…Chase…had been in an off-again-on-again relationship for years with fellow actress, Sydney Young, forever spotted at charity events, premieres, and awards shows. It was rumored that at one point Chase and Sydney were engaged. Secondly, the talk about a baby. Paranoia setting in, I thought somehow the paparazzi had gotten wind of my pregnancy and misconstrued something somewhere and that they
thought
Sydney was actually pregnant and just saying that Sydney ‘said’…but I was the real preggers, and would they put that all together next? And think that Chase…Charlie…was the father. Oh, this whole situation had disaster all over it.

Very diplomatically, Charlie stopped and addressed the TMZ guy. “Really? Sydney said that? Huh.” Charlie stopped and rubbed at his jaw, seeming to give it some thought. Was he serious? He was considering it? He
did
want me to keep this baby. My stomach dropped and I felt like I was going to throw up. Charlie looked at me, just then, and winked.
Huh? What does that mean?!
“Look, Sydney’s a great gal. We go way back. But she and I aren’t a good match. Now if you’ll excuse me, my
girlfriend
and I have somewhere to be.”
Phew!