It has been 30 minutes since Charlie locked me in his room and left to go have a word with Ryan-whatever that means. At least I know he's not going to be with Alexis since I watched her leave in a fury a few minutes after we confirmed the baked goods I was stuffing my face with have cannabis in it.

All my 19 years of living, in the interest of keeping my lungs as intact as possible, I've never smoked weed-or cigarettes. I've come across edibles before. Elle ordered some to our apartment in freshman
to some met on Snapchat. I didn't try it because it smelt like a mixture of cocoa powder and body odour. Secondly, I've read about people having a bad reaction to edibles because some dealers mix other stuff in them. I've never been high before and after 30 minutes of drinking lemon water just as Charlie has instructed, I'm starting to think there's no such thing as a high.

I'm fine.

The only thing making me crazy is being locked inside Charlie Murtaugh's room.

I don't stand around daydreaming about his room so I don't know what I expected exactly but this isn't what I expected. For starters, it's the most minimalistic room I've ever seen. Forest green walls, a double bed with a black frame and white sheets sitting on a marble printed rug-which goes perfectly with the redwood floors that cover the entire house. My eyes slide over to the left side of the bed where a houseplant is seated beside the nightstand and a standing tree lamp. To the right is the door to his bathroom and another to what I presume should be his closet. Sitting between the two single windows is a black shoe rack. A white commodore which houses the TV and infusers sits opposite the bed. The yellow lights fixed in the four corners of the ceiling cast a warm glow on the room. There's an IKEA painting set on the wall behind the bed and two drawings I presume would be Mila's on the walls behind the shoe rack.

There are two floating shelves behind his computer-small picture frames perch on the top one whilst some textbooks sit on the one beneath it. I've been too busy staring at the TV and waiting for the high to kick in that it didn't occur to me that this is my first time in Charlie's room. This is his space. And what better way to get to know him than to snoop around a little.

Excited at the thought of finding a dirty secret of Charlie's, I put the movie I wasn't paying attention to on pause and stand from where I'm seated on the edge of the bed to the picture frame. There are 3 pictures. The first one is a picture of Charlie and a man at the beach in a red swimsuit. He's younger-about 5 or 6. He's sitting on the older man's shoulder and they're both grinning at the camera-him with braced teeth.

I snigger. Charlie had braces. Who woulda thunk?

Judging from the similarities between him and the man, it's no debating that's his dad.

The second picture is Mila in her hospital cot. She looks different- tiny. Because all babies are tiny at first.

Cute.

The last picture is another one of Charlie. He's staring at the camera smugly with both of his hands fixing a Yankee's cap on his head. There's a girl next to him-a blonde. She looks younger than him-must be around the age of 12 or 13. She's smiling hard at Charlie trying to reach the hat but with the height difference she's at a disadvantage. The girl looks awfully familiar but I have no idea where I've seen her before.

After eyeing some of the textbooks, I decide not to snoop around any longer. As I walk back to the bed, my eyesight blurs and I stagger. Woah. I think as I steady myself, blinking rapidly. What the hell was that? I swallow but realise my mouth is drier than the Sahara and it feels like the temperature in her just went up 5 notches.

I don't know how I manage to make it to Charlie's bed without dropping to the floor. My heart is pounding so fast that I can hear it.

Why's it so hot?

I try to focus on one thing but there's too much happening all at once. Before I know it, I'm shrugging off my jersey.

"Lorraine?" When I look up, Charlie is now standing by the open door, staring at me wide-eyed. He glances at the piece of clothing on the floor before returning his eyes to my face. Sounds come from the stairs and Charlie shuts the door behind him hurriedly and locks it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm hot," I tell him. "So very hot. I just want to take it all off." I shimmy out of my skirt, leaving me in my white shirt, socks and underwear.

"You're buzzed." He says, taking a desperate step forward. He picks my jersey from where it's sprawled on the floor and hands it to me. "You have to keep your clothes on Lorraine. Please, keep your clothes on."

Whatever he says next is distorted. All I see is his mouth moving. Nothing was making sense.

"Lorraine!" I feel a shake on my shoulders, pulling me back to earth. "Do you hear me?"

"Yo, Charlie! Is she okay?" A voice calls from behind the door. I don't know who it is. Charlie walks to the door and the jersey I didn't realise I'm holding drops to the floor again. I kick off my airforces and peel off my socks.

"No," Charlie says warningly, his hands stretching out to stop me but I've already pulled the T-shirt over my head. I feel a cool breeze blow on my belly. It wasn't a lot but it made me feel better. His eyes darken and roam my body. He groans before turning back to the voice calling from the other side of the door.

"Charlie-"

I realise it's Dante.

"I mean yes. Uh, Yes. She's fine. It's okay." Charlie doesn't leave the door until there are sounds of Dante retreating down the stairs. "Fuck." he swears under his breath. "Lorraine. Are you okay?" He asks, not turning around.

"I'll be when you turn around." I sass. My vision is stable now and I can see Charlie. He's standing by the bed, his back facing me. I want him to turn around. I want him to see me.

"I don't think that's a good idea." He says.

"Why? It's not like I'm naked or anything." I say. Before I can help it, I let out a laugh. "I need a-I need a T-" whatever I'm about to say is jumbled because my head starts spinning and I feel nauseous. I stagger to the bed-my brain can't register if I'm crying or laughing (maybe I'm doing a bit of both)-crawl inside and pull the covers to my chin. The last thing I hear is my name before my eyes close.

****

When I wake up, I can't make out anything in the darkness of the room that I'm in. My brain is foggy and I'm finding it extremely difficult to put 2 and 2 together. Until the door opens and the light from the stairs illuminates the room. It was enough to jog my memory and decipher my surroundings.

I'm in Charlie's room. I fell asleep right after stripping naked-although it seems I've now been dressed in an oversized t-shirt. Everything else is a blur.

The door closes softly and there's a sound of feet against the wooden floor, a zipper being pulled, ruffling sound of jeans taken off and dumped somewhere, a heavy sigh, not a minute later the empty side of the bed dips. Charlie lies on his bed with one arm tucked behind his head.

I feel my whole body stand alert as his body heat radiates towards me. Without thinking, I inch closer to the warmth, my fingers coming up to explore the hard lines of his torso. I feel him stiffen underneath my touch. Good thing he doesn't wear a shirt to sleep because I'm too tired to try to rip his clothes off. "Lorraine-" his voice is wary in the darkness of the room. "What are you doing?" He whispers.

"What I've always wanted to do." I don't know where the confidence is coming from but there's one thing I know. These weed brownies have me pretty f*cked up to the point where my natural desire when I'm around Charlie is heightened. And I can't stop resisting any longer.

I climb on top of him to straddle his hips, leaning forward eagerly to place a tiny kiss on his chest. It draws a curse out of him which does nothing but urge me to continue. I'm placing tiny kisses all over his chest and, for the first time, I have no intentions to hold back. To hide the deep, insatiable desire buried inside of me. To pretend that I don't want this. The smell of his almost fading, woody cologne makes my head spin as my mouth moves to his neck hungrily.

"Lorraine-" His voice is hoarse and urgent but also gentle. Light as a feather in the dark. It does disastrous things to my insides. "Stop this."

"Why? I want this. I want to do this." I murmur against his neck as I attack his jawline with firm kisses.

My mouth which seems to have a mind of its captures Charlie's lips tentatively and oh God, if we were standing, I'm positive I would drop to the floor. Charlie's mouth is warm and welcoming and I feel the warmth travel to my toes which curl in response. The mere taste of him-beer and something sweet-causes butterflies to dance in my belly as our lips brush together.

When I realise he's kissing me back heat blossoms in my chest and between my legs.

My mouth moves over his with conviction as I lean further into the kiss, wanting to take-taste as much as I can. Charlie's hands find their way under the T-shirt I'm wearing. They ignite sparks as he runs them down my back before pulling me closer. Our bodies press together firmly-my nipples poking at his chest through the sheer material of my bra and shirt. His hands play with my bra strap and I make a protesting sound when he hesitates to take it off.

But I'm too focused on our breathing and heartbeat morphing together to dwell on it. Our lips mould together as we breathe each other in, letting out the primal desire that lives in both of us. I'm completely in charge and Charlie let me. The kiss feels like a good dream that I don't want to wake up from. A dream I want to keep living in forever. My teeth graze his lower lips and I bite a little hard forcing his lips to part, allowing my tongue to slip inside.

A growl tore from the back of my throat as we explore each other's mouths like a greedy pirate in search of gold. The masculine sound has me clenching my thighs around his waist. And when my ass feels the budge in his boxers, my breath hitches. Charlie is hard as a rock. For me. I feel the tightness between my legs and my lower abdomen intensify, driving me crazy. My breathing is now mixed with sounds I didn't know I could make as the chemistry of our kiss knocks the air right out of my lungs.

I want more. I need more.

"I want-to be-skin to skin," I whisper against his lips. Charlie's hands stop roaming my back and I whimper in protest, missing his rough touch.

I sigh blissfully when his hands come to cup my face. "No." Our breathing is heavy as our mouths part. I can barely make out a lot in the shadows of the room but I'm able to see his pained expression. "No." He repeats firmly. It sounded more like he was chiding himself than me.

"Why?" I pout, leaning forward to place another kiss teasingly close to his lips but Charlie pulls me back softly. It feels like a slap to the face. The sting of rejection washes over my body and I'm about to climb off him in shame. However, his hands
settle on my waist to keep me in place. "Why?" I repeat quietly, hating that a great moment has been put to a stop. Snuffed out like a candlelight in the dark.

"I'm not going to have sex with you when you're high Lorraine. That would be taking advantage of you and I would never do that to anyone."

"It's not taking advantage if I'm asking for it." I know that a self-proclaimed activist somewhere on Twitter would have a fit if they heard my statement but I continue. "I want you, Charlie. I want you right now."

Who am I?

"You're driving me crazy sophomore, stop saying that." He sounds tortured as his fingers dig into my skin. "You're not you."

"I am me," I whisper but I know that's not true. Sober Lorraine would never because sober Lorraine is a coward who wouldn't admit what she wants. "I want my first time to be with you."

"You don't mean that."

"Right, because we're both supposed to pretend like this isn't what we want. Unless--" The realisation that I might be wrong makes me feel sick to my stomach. "-- I'm the only one pretending and you stopping yourself from kissing me tonight was just my imagination." Charlie is quiet and hot tears burn my eyes before I can stop them. "Is it me? I'm not good enough for you?"

This is a new low for me, I have to admit. But the weed in my system has made me an emotional wreck to the point where I have no composure. The first thing I think is exactly what's flying out of my mouth without my brain processing and filtering out my words.

"You're more than enough for one guy sophomore."

"Just not you." I feel dizzy. Most of all, I feel humiliated. How many times does he have to reject me for me to see? He's just not into me like that. My chest feels heavy and I'm trying my hardest not to break down in tears.

"Especially me. You're too good for me sophomore." It shocked me. I didn't understand how Charlie could think I'm too good for him. A girl who was dubbed a mute in high school. A girl who has always been on the sidelines. I didn't know what to say or how to react but my heart is twisting painfully in protest. "You deserve--better."

"That's not up to you to decide," I say, feeling outrage bubble in my chest. What is it with men and thinking they know what you want. "I'm fully capable of recognizing what I do or don't deserve. This is what I want."

"You deserve a guy who knows how to be with you. I'm shit at this relationship thing."

Relationship?

"If you think that I'm going to fall in love with you after we have sex and start following you around like a lovestruck puppy, you're wrong. I have no interest in forcing you to commit to me or relationships. I can be an asshole like you and do the whole no strings attached thing." No, you can't. A voice in my head whispers. You're already getting attached and nothing has happened between you two. But Charlie doesn't have to know that.

"You're too much of a softie." There's a gentleness in his voice that tells me he doesn't mean it in a degrading way. "We've got a good thing going right now sophomore and if we don't stay just friends I-"

"You think you're gonna hurt me." I complete for him.

"I know." He amends.

"How can you be so sure?" My voice is hard. I'm on the verge of loosing it because Charlie seems to think he knows everything.

"Because I've done it before. I've tried this relationship thing before and it didn't end well for the both of us."

I pull back slightly from the realisation of his words. A picture of Charlie and Alexis together feels like a knife to my chest even though I'm aware they're not together anymore.

"Because she cheated on you. That's not on you. If anything, you're the victim."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me!" I snap. I don't care that I'm letting my frustration and anger get the best of me. If nothing's going to happen between us I need a valid reason why.

If he's shocked at my little outburst, he doesn't show it. Instead, he runs his hands up and down my sides in comforting strokes. The fact that he's attempting to calm me down melts not only my insides but my centre as well. I want to tell him to stop but I can't bring myself to. "I found out tonight that Alexis had an eating disorder when we were together." He finally says after a short pause. His voice is disturbed. "These are the things you're supposed to know when you're with someone. But I never paid attention to her-it was always about the physical."

"Doesn't excuse the cheating. She should have asked for a breakup if she wanted out." It was an insensitive thing to say but I blame it on the weed brownies and my heightened jealousy. The thought of Alexis being more than a villain in my story scared the crap out of me. That would need a lot of processing and digesting.

"I would never excuse her cheating. But the truth is I was a terrible boyfriend and that drove her away. I'm not going to do that to you."

"But I don't want a boyfriend." I don't sound too convincing. Which I would also like to blame on the-okay this one is all me. Truth is, I'm not sure what I want from Charlie (other than sex, of course). I haven't thought deep into what comes after the sex. I know what I feel-I've never felt like this before for anyone. Not that I'm experienced in this department. But I've never been this sexually attracted to someone to the point where standing next to them makes me so needy and just a touch is enough to make the world tilt beneath my feet.

The the way he kissed me back is enough indication that he wants this. But he's holding out on me.

"You're scared." I blurt. It's silent. And we're both staring at each other, unable to look away. It's pretty hypocritical of me to accuse him of something I'm guilty of if I wasn't high on weed right now but it's too late to take it back.

"You think I'm scared?" He tries to make it sound like a joke but I notice the uncertainty in his voice.

"I think you want this as much as I do but you've never committed to anything other than basketball-so you're scared you'd have to commit to this."

I'm proud of myself for letting the words tumble out of my mouth.

"I'm not scared." He lets out but he's holding on to me tighter and his fingers are pressing painfully against my skin. It's a pain that I enjoy, one that does wondrous things to my body. Because I know that I've got him.

My voice is laced with challenge and a little bit of hope as I offer. "Prove it."

****

welcome to smut season.