A/N: This might be my favorite chapter so far. By the way, I don't check for any grammar, continuity or spelling mistakes, so I'm sorry if this story is hard to read! :( Let me know if anything is wrong. Also, I love it when you guys give me constructive criticism in the reviews section because it tells me more of what you guys want to read. So yeah, just PLEASE read and review, because I love getting e-mails saying that I have new reviews.


It was later that night when Charlie finally exited the bedroom. The stunt she had pulled against her door had brought her pounds of guilt, and she needed to rid herself of the dirty sweat upon her skin with a long hot shower. It didn't help that Bass's scent was hanging on the walls of said shower, and she felt herself repeating the earlier action with the detachable shower head. Of course, now not even a shower could cleanse her so she spent the entire day reading about mitosis from one of the thick books on Miles's bookshelf she had found earlier. The book was so drawn out and boring that she found herself waking up against it, hours later. Her cheek was sticky with spit, no doubt from her naughty dreams about Bass that caused her to moon over him even in her sleep. Music had woken her up at about ten o'clock, and she was shocked to find that she had napped for such a long time.

Charlie went to the bathroom and freshened up, pulling her hair into a bun. Back in her room, she peeked out the doorway to find the apartment full of people who were having a bit too much of a fun time. Charlie shut the door immediately and looked down to see that she was still clad in her clothes from earlier. She searched her drawer until she found a skirt and nice top that would allow her to fit in to the crowd to some extent.

Charlie exited the door precariously. She ventured down the hall to see Nora and Miles kissing on the couch. Not only was there that, but the apartment was full of people, making it hard for Charlie to even move around. Some where macking over each other, but most were making fools of themselves by trying to sing along to the music that probably no one had ever heard of before. Bass, after all, was one of those guys that always insisted on indie music to throw off the audience.

Charlie left the hall and wen to the study, which was a lot less crowded. There were about ten people in there, who were a lot more sober than the others. Charlie glance around to find Bass at the bar, serving drinks. There was a dark haired girl with a much too tight dress hanging over his arm, her red lips pressed to his neck as she whispered something. Bass seemed not entirely unaffected, but he was certainly more focused on the drinks in front of him.

Charlie crossed the room, her arms crossed. "Sebastian," she greeted, snatching the whisky from his hand and downing it in a single gulp.

His eyes darkened. "Calling me Sebastian now I see?"

"You call me Charlotte," she said. "I thought about calling you Monroe, but that had a hint of formality too it. Thought about calling you Bass, too, like Miles but that was too familiar. So Sebastian it is."

Bass echoed her words. "So Sebastian it is…"

His attention was now entirely on her, leaving the dark haired girl groaning for his attention. "Bassy!" she squirmed against him. Bass shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Charlie. "I thought Nora was throwing a party on Saturday, not Thursday."

Bass chuckled. "You can blame this one on me," he raised his glass to hers with a nod of cheers. "I just couldn't wait for the challenge you had spelled out for me earlier on the couch. Better sooner."

Charlie gaped at his words, and poured herself another shot. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, raising her chin to him.

"Don't play stupid, Charlotte," said Bass.

Charlie was at a loss for words, and thankfully the brunette interrupted their conversation. "Bass, baby, you wanna get out of here?"

Bass smirked. "Yeah, you know what? I do." Charlie blinked at his words. She had fully expected him to drop the whore in favor of her. However, she was not disappointed in his next action. "Charlotte? Care for a ride on my bike?"

The whore's mouth dropped in shock. "You're seriously asking this kid to hook up with instead of me? She's like, twelve."

"But I'm obviously better at holding my liquor than you," said Charlie, commenting on the girl's slurred words and obnoxiousness. "Let's go."

Bass raised an eyebrow and dropped the girl from his grasp. He stepped around her bar, two beers in hand for them both. "One for the road," he said. He placed his hand on the small of Charlie's back and led her to the door. On their way out, he was sure to grab both of their jackets; a leather one for himself and a peacoat for Charlie that she had left on the coatrack on Tuesday.

Bass handed Charlie the beers and draped the peacoat over her shoulders. He took the beers back, then helped her get each arms through, letting his hands rest on her shoulders, his lips close to her ear. Then, he pulled away, muttering something under his breath and left the apartment to have her follow him.

Like the last elevator ride that they had, this one was tense with unanswered questions. It was not as uncomfortable, though. On the way down, Charlie found herself inching closer and closer to Bass. She realized he was doing the same when they were shoulder to shoulder. The doors made a ping and opened for them.

They walked to the parking garage with small chat now. Bass commented on how cold it was, followed by Charlie's agreement.

"God, it's fucking freezing," he said.

"Totally," was Charlie's response.

And that was the extent of it.

However, as soon as they entered the parking garage, a gust of wind came, causing Charlie to double over from the biting wind. Bass's arms came swooping down around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side to protect her from the incoming gusts.

"Thanks," said Charlie, once they were in safe vicinity.

Bass didn't comment, nor did he drop his hand. They reached his bike, and, like last time, Bass handed her the helmet. This time, Charlie didn't take it.

"What?" he said. Her expression was accusatory, but with a hint of a smile.

"Are you sure you're not too drunk to drive this thing?"

His lips twisted into an evil grin. "What? You scared of a little danger?"

Charlie stepped towards him, wrapping her hands around the helmet. She noticed that he didn't let go, and took another step. Their hands were now wrapped around the helmet that was pushing into both of their midsections, acting as a guard of sorts.

"No," she said. "Standing around you is dangerous enough. And I don't even know a thing about you."

"I tell you what," said Bass. "You ride with me on the bike…. and I'll tell you everything you want to know. With some exceptions."

"Deal," said Charlie, finally pulling the helmet from his grasp. Pulling her bun from its position on her head, she let her waves fall over her shoulders. She pulled the helmet onto her head, but it was too large and fell over her eyes, obscuring her vision completely.

Bass began laughing and tilted it back so that he could see her blue eyes. When he saw them tinted with embarrassment, his small laugh turned into a large one, causing his laugh lines to deepen. There were crinkles around his eyes, too.

"It's not funny!" said Charlie, pouting.

"It's totally funny," said Bass, sobering from his laugh fest. "And totally fucking adorable."

Charlie looked away at that; her cheeks grew red. Bass took the hint and threw a leg over the motorcycle, patting the empty space behind him. "Hop on," he said. Charlie did.

She swung a leg over the seat, conscious about her skirt riding up. Pressed up against Bass, she started squirming to force it into a suitable position. She heard his intake of breath and smirked. Wrapping her arms around his midsection, she pressed her breasts against his back and wiggled a bit more. She tightened her thighs around his, and his breath caught. "Quit," he said; his voice was gravelly. Charlie skeptically obliged, despite her hands wanting to wander further down form his abdomen.

Without a second thought, Bass revved up the motorcycle and they were flying out of the garage. Charlie felt her hair whip out from underneath the helmet and tightened her grasp around Bass's waist. The cold air bit into her legs as he swung around a corner, so deep that he thought that the would tip over and her skin would meet the concrete.

"Are you sure you're not drunk?" called Charlie over the wind.

"I'm positive," said Bass as they sped through a yellow light. Charlie bit her lip, not too sure.

The ride went on for about ten minutes before Bass pulled into yet another parking garage. He shut off the bike, but Charlie was still pressed to his body.

"Charlotte," he said. "We're here."

"Right," said Charlie, still shaking a bit. She stepped off the bike, pulling the helmet off of her head.

"Are you okay?" asked Bass. His eyebrows tightened as he looked her over.

Charlie nodded. A smile of relief came over her suddenly, allowing a tinge of pink to color her cheeks. "That was the most exhilarating experience of me life," she said.

"So far," commented Bass, taking the helmet from her. "Come on," he said. He grabbed her elbow and led her to a nearby stairwell. "It's going to be a long walk, but it's worth it."

He pushed open the heavy door and began running up the staircase, Charlie following close behind. "Where are we going?" she called after him, laughing.

"You'll see," said Bass, a few steps ahead.

Charlie found herself out of breath nearly twenty levels later and snatched Bass's shoulder when she became too exhausted to continue. "Can we take a break?"

"Luckily, yes," said Bass. Charlie looked around to see that they had reached the top of the building, and she felt her chest swell with pride at the fact that she had made it all the way up.

"Ready?" asked Bass, one hand on the door that would undoubtedly lead to the roof.

"Ready," said Charlie. Her hands were wrapped tight around his bicep, which she knew Bass was flexing to make it seem bigger.

Without a moment's notice, Bass pushed open the door and a rush of cold air met them, blowing Charlie's hair behind her shoulders. She curled in tighter to Bass's side as they stepped out onto the roof, the air now settling around them. The sight that greeted them took Charlie's breath away as she dropped her grasp on Bass and walked towards the edge.

"It's beautiful," she said. And it was. The two of them were far enough away from downtown Chicago so that they could see the entire skyline silhouetted against the Great Lake in the background. Small windows of light illuminated the scene, and she could see blurs of red on the streets below and felt like a God watching his Lego collection below.

Charlie placed her bottom on the edge of the roof, allowing her legs to dangle over. The distance from the ground was nearly as high as the Chrysler tower—or so it felt that way. In reality, it was probably only half that size. She heard Bass gasp from behind her and found him to be standing by the doorway.

"Come over here," said Charlie. She extended a hand.

"No," said Bass. "You come here—please. You're so close to the edge… I'm afraid you're going to fall, Charlotte."

Charlie shook her head. "I'm not going to, Sebastian!"

"Please, just walk over here." Bass had his hands extended towards her and made a pleading motion.

"Why are you so scared? I'm not going to fall," said Charlie.

"Well I think you are," said Bass.

Charlie cocked her head to the side and squinted at him. "Sebastian," she whispered. "I'm not going to fall if I don't want to. It's impossible." Her voice then changed from teasing to somber. "Is that why you're afraid to come over here? You're going to let yourself fall?"

Bass stopped his pleading and just stared at her, his jaw dropped. She heard a noise in the back of his throat as he tried to speak, but no words came out.

"Are you afraid you're going to jump, Sebastian?" said Charlie, now spinning on her bottom to face him. She didn't use her hands to steady herself and felt her body wobble. But she had trust that she wouldn't topple over onto the concrete below. "Is that why you don't want to come to close to the edge?"

Bass glared at Charlie, and she felt like his blue eyes were penetrating her own. "Not at all," he said. Charlie knew the words were a lie, and she told him so through her gaze. "I'm just scared that I'm going to push you, Charlotte." The heaviness of his words made Charlie blink. His voice was not teasing; it was controlled and intimidating. Charlie felt exposed suddenly, like he was holding her captive.

And with that, Bass pulled two beers from the inside of his leather jacket and set them down on the roof before her. Charlie had forgotten that he had grabbed some from the bar before they left, and must've tucked them inside when she wasn't looking.

"This was a bad idea," said Bass. "I'll wait down by the bike. You can finish these and do whatever you're doing."

Bass turned his back on her and walked out. The echo of the slamming down was enough for Charlie to blink back tears at his sudden coldness.