The Decoy Date

Chapter Eight

Charlie watched as Imogen struggled with her keys at the front door to her shop, he looked up and down the street but there was no one around. A car alarm began whining in the distance as he finally heard the lock click. Complete silence greeted them when they were through the door, she bolted it behind them then turned to look at him. The pale moonlight danced across her skin as it fought with the blanket of cloud that swept across the sky; he stared at her mesmerised, she looked the most beautiful he’d ever seen her.

In three quick strides he was standing in front of her, looking down into her eyes knowing he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing. It was far beyond the decoy date they’d organised; he should have stopped at dropping her off, making sure she was okay and leaving. However he just couldn’t bring himself to, he didn’t want to leave her, he wanted to stay and look after her. His heart pounded against his ribcage trying to escape as his head leant down to hers slowly, so slowly, giving her all the time to pull back; but she didn’t, she stood still just staring into his eyes.

When their lips touched he felt the heat explode within him, he’d been fighting this feeling every time they’d kissed since that first one in the street. This time however he let the sensation run through him, enjoying the tingling that covered his whole body, delighting in the path her arms took up his back to pull him closer. They left a trail of fire and goose bumps as they went, he felt her gasp as his tongue traced her lips and danced with her own. They continued to kiss until he felt like he couldn’t breathe, he pulled away unwilling to leave the heat behind but he thought he might pass out if they didn’t stop. Her hand was clutching his shirt as his chest heaved up and down.

They were both breathless as she moved a hand to her lips looking at him confusedly, her fingers traced over her red, swollen mouth. Staring at her lips, he felt proud that he had done that to her; he didn’t know what had come over him, the kiss just felt like the right thing to do. However as he watched her bewilderment, guilt and uncertainty crept into his conscience; they weren’t actually dating and he’d just kissed her so passionately and with so much desire he’d bruised her lips. Charlie closed his eyes and rubbed his temples trying to comprehend what had just happened, he shouldn’t have done that, really shouldn’t have done that.

“I better go. Sorry!” He turned on his heel and practically ran out of the shop, dropping his car keys as he fumbled with them by the car door. He was so confused, there was something else in that kiss, something deeper, for him anyway and she’d looked so strange before he left; fighting with herself over wanting more or not. Finally he got the key in and turned, only letting himself breathe when he’d sat down, he pictured her bemused face all the way back to his house. He’d virtually taken advantage of her, she’d had a lot to drink and he knew she wasn’t completely sober when she'd asked him in for coffee, she’d been vulnerable after her fainting episode earlier and he’d just overpowered her with his lust.

Each time he replayed what happened he painted himself in an increasingly worsening light, some sort of s*x-crazed monster who had thrown himself at a beautiful, slightly drunk woman. He ignored the calls of his friends as he ran upstairs, heading straight to his bedroom and lay face down on the bed, hoping the duvet and pillows would suffocate him and stop the shame that was continually building. After a few minutes he rolled over and looked at his ceiling imagining her face again, only this time he saw the smiling one that had looked at him all night at her parents’ house. Eventually tiredness took its toll and he was thankful to fall into a dreamless sleep, fully clothed on top of the covers.

                                            *

Imogen groaned as the throbbing in her head became too much to bare, she’d drunk way too much at her parents’ house and then that kiss with Charlie had blown her mind. She knew she shouldn’t trust him and shouldn’t have been kissing back the way she had, but it had felt so amazing she hadn’t wanted it to stop. Then he’d ran away and all she could do was picture the look of disgust on his face, he obviously couldn’t get away quick enough judging by the skid marks that now adorned the street below her window. That look of horror had driven her to drink even more alcohol, she couldn’t find much but had stumbled upon a bottle of tequila Jess had brought round for a Mexican night a couple of months ago but had never opened. She’d drunk over half the bottle before realising it was half past three in the morning and she had to open the shop at ten.

Rough was an understatement. Wrenching the covers off herself, she fought the cloudiness in her head and braced herself against the cold air. Her head pounded as she sat on the edge of the bed, it felt like a troupe of those cymbal-playing monkeys was marching through her head; she breathed in and out slowly fighting the heavy feeling of nausea in her stomach and throat. It wasn’t working, she rushed to bathroom reaching the toilet bowl just in time to release last night’s drinks. When nothing else was coming out and she was left dry heaving, she moved her head from the resting place of the toilet seat and curled into a ball on the floor.

Somewhere in the bedroom her iPhone began to ring, she sat up testing whether the movement would cause another wave of sickness but she actually felt a little better away from the bathroom floor. Straining, she got to her feet and regretted standing up when her head felt like it was splitting open, she should have crawled on her hands and knees; it wasn’t dignified but at least she wouldn’t feel like there was a mosh pit of heavy metal rockers jumping around in her head. She looked at the caller ID and saw a photo of Charlie smiling at her, they’d taken it when they’d been to Regent’s Park, all part of their cover. The phone rang off before she could answer it. Great! He probably thinks I’m ignoring him now.

She had about ten minutes to take a shower and get dressed before Jess arrived to help her open up, maybe she’d pop back upstairs for a nap later, she definitely wasn’t going to make it through the whole day. Her shower did nothing to ease her tiredness or the pain in her head that dulled to a constant ache in the background. Throwing on a pair of scruffy jeans and a woolly jumper her Grams had knitted her a couple of years ago, she headed to the kitchen and made an industrial strength coffee.

A few minutes later and walking down the stairs, she heard Jess coming into the shop and scrunched up her face as her friend shouted a hello that reverberated painfully around the inside of Imogen’s head. Walking through the door she could see Jess was in an extremely good mood, not usually the case at ten o’clock on a Sunday morning. She was breezing around the shop, moving piles of books and whistling the latest Katy Perry song; that was weird, she’d never heard Jess whistle in the 24 years they’d know each other and Jess absolutely hated Katy Perry, calling her a blue-haired, psycho b***h on numerous occasions.

“Please don’t whistle so loud.” She spun around and stopped dead in her tracks as she finally saw Imogen.

“You look like a warthog’s behind! What the hell happened after you dropped me off?”

“Thanks! Well Charlie drove me back to the shop and I offered him a coffee upstairs to say thanks for the lift and looking after me and he . . . sort of . . . kissed me, then ran away with a disgusted look on his face. When I got upstairs I found that bottle of tequila you bought me and drank most of the bottle.” Jess tried to hide her anger and then laughter as she listened to Imogen’s story.

“Wait, he kissed you, like really kissed you. But nobody was around to see it.” Imogen nodded, words unable to form as she remembered the kiss, it had been amazing; hot and passionate, at one point her knees had actually gone weak and she’d had to cling onto him to stay upright. However with the kiss came the look on his face; that startled, sickened expression of someone who’d stood in dog muck and then walked it into their new cream-coloured carpet. She grimaced at the memory of it.

“That bad!”

“No the kiss was nice, it was the look he gave me after that was awful. He was so repulsed by me, he literally ran out of the shop. It reminded me of school again, it was the type of look everyone gave me back then.” She shivered and pulled the sleeves of her jumper over her hands, wrapping arms tightly round her body.

“If he doesn’t want to kiss you then f**k him, there are plenty of hot, gorgeous men in the world who you don’t have a history with that you can go and kiss.” Behind the two of them the door opened, they turned expecting to see their regular Sunday morning customer Mr Riley but instead Daisy walked through the door, looking as refreshed and happy as Jess had. Both of them were a complete contrast to the way she felt herself and the nauseous feeling that had subsided was rearing its ugly head again.

“Wow, you look like s**t! I didn’t think you’d had that much to drink at mum and dads.” She was wrapped in a dogtooth woollen coat on top of skinny jeans and knee-high leather boots, the outfit made her look skinnier than usual and Imogen wondered how she’d got there without the wind snapping her in two, it was causing a lot of damage to the trees outside and the litter definitely wasn’t enjoying the ride.

“That would be the bottle of tequila she downed when she got home.” Jess was struggling not to laugh as Imogen rested her face on the cool, wooden counter.

“Ouch! You and tequila aren’t exactly best friends are you? Remember cousin Rachel’s hen night, she had that Mexican theme and we all did shots, you ended up puking all over the stripper when he arrived!” She burst out laughing, while Jess looked between the two sisters none the wiser.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“It wasn’t a pretty sight, all the girls hated me that night. I told her the shots were a bad idea.” Imogen groaned without moving her head from the sideways position it was in, she swallowed the sick that had risen to her throat as she pictured the half-dressed stripper covered in chunks of food with pale yellow liquid dripping from his police hat down his bare chest.

“She didn’t speak to you for six months. Why the hell did you drink it again?”

“Charlie and her had a fight last night.” Jess crossed her arms and looked unimpressed while the smile vanished from Daisy’s face, she looked almost angry when Imogen looked hesitantly up at her.

“Why the hell are you dating him anyway?”

“I . . . uh . . . I think it’s kind of to get closure about school and he is a great kisser.” Her eyes glazed over as she replayed the kiss again from last night, it had definitely been more intense than all the others, the way his hands held her and the pressure of his lips on hers. She opened her eyes again and saw him standing behind Jess and Daisy, had he just heard what she’d said about him. “Hi.”

The two of them turned around and looked at him through narrow eyes, he smiled nervously and looked her straight in the eye. She saw him visibly swallow, his Adam’s apple shifting up and down. “I came to apologise for last night, I shouldn’t have left like that. It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I lost control. I’m really sorry.” She couldn’t forget his expression and wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or was just forcing himself to carry on with their plan so he could gain her forgiveness.

“Seeing as you’re both here I want to ask you a favour.” Daisy looked back and forth between Charlie and Imogen, a fierce aspect to her face, she was not going to take no for an answer. “Sam and I are having dance lessons for the wedding and I want the two of you there so it’s less embarrassing. Neither of us is very good and from what I remember you’ve got two left feet sis, so you could use the lessons as well.” Imogen didn’t know whether to be offended at this or not, she wasn’t a good dancer and she’d hated every class her mother had forced her into. “Well, what do you say?”

“Sounds good, I’m not very good at dancing myself.” Charlie surprised her by agreeing to help her sister, she looked at him and found he was smiling at her.

“Thank God! The woman mum’s organised is a total slave driver, it’ll be nice to have someone else she can boss around. Sam was on the verge of crying after our first lesson on Friday, he twisted his ankle and she made him carry on. He was limping as she dragged him around to an Adele song, don’t get me wrong I love her songs, but they are mainly about heartbreak not really appropriate for a wedding dance. Which reminds me, have you sorted the music out for the wedding yet, Imogen?”

Imogen watched her sister ramble on without taking a lot of it in, she couldn’t process all that information the state she was in at the moment.

“Yes I’ve organised a band called The Lilacs, they’re really good, the lead singer has an incredible voice. I just need to know what song you want as your first dance.” Imogen watched as her sister shrugged her shoulders and revealed she didn’t mind, her and Sam didn’t have a song, so it could be anything slow and romantic that they could dance to. Well that doesn’t help, what the hell am I meant to pick for their first dance?

Before Imogen could ask Daisy for a little more guidance she was gone, breezing out of the shop as quickly as she came in. Jess looked at Imogen and rolled her eyes, she looked at Charlie then left just the two of them alone. Charlie looked down at his shoes, rubbing them on the floor kicking at a mark that had been there for a few years. After a few minutes he looked up at her and walked over the counter, facing her.

“I wanted to see how you were, I didn’t mean to run away like that last night. It’s just . . . the kiss took me a little by surprise, I threw myself at you and I didn’t want you to think I wanted more, sorry!” He reached a hand across the counter to hers and rubbed the back of it. She instantly felt relief flow through her, he wasn’t completely disgusted by her and he’d enjoyed the kiss too. “So dance lessons with your sister, I’d suggest you wear steel-toed boots I’m going to warn you I have absolutely no rhythm.”

He chuckled as he continued drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, it seemed such a natural movement for two people who were supposed to be dating and she had to remind herself they weren’t actually together.

“Me neither, I’m about as graceful as a giraffe standing on a bed of marbles.” He burst out laughing and she felt a whole lot better, the nausea had left her stomach and her head no longer ached.