Heh, okay…this proves that Meme is a better updater than me. She had this written within hours…yet I am slow. Heh. By the way, to those of you who have me on Author Alert, sorry if you got several alerts last night. Heh. It was very late, and I was having issues.

-Connie's POV-

After dinner my family collectively decided the best way to end the evening would be to take a nice dip in the hotel pool. Having already experienced it myself, I opted to go back to our suite and unwind. I changed into my pajamas, got myself a nice glass of ice cold water, and curled up on the sofa.

The room was dark, save the one small lamp by the couch I was using to draw by. The air was crisp and clear, flowing in through the open balcony windows. It was peaceful and quiet - the perfect end to the day. Pulling my knees up to my chin, I rested my sketch pad on them, my pencil dancing across the page. I always work better that way. Then it's just me and my sketches.

I was deep in concentration, the tip of my tongue poking slightly out of the corner of my mouth when I felt eyes on me. Have you ever just felt like you're being watched? It kind of makes you skin crawl…at least I know mine did.

I tipped my head up from the page to see Charlie, hands on hips and scowling. Gah, he's moody. Whatever his problem is, I know I didn't do it. I've been right here all night. I haven't moved an inch.

"You're on my bed," he said, tapping his foot.

I shook my head. "No, I'm on the couch," I replied simply, turning back to my drawing.

"Nope. From morning until bed time, it's the couch; when I want to go to sleep, it's my bed."

For the first time, I noticed the bright pink stain all over the front of his light gray tee, and I raised my eyebrows. "What happened, the pink Teletubbie spit up on you?"

"I'll have you know," he started matter-of-factly, "there is no pink Teletubbie. We were down by the pool, and your little brother got into a splashing fight with some kid who's older brother decided that since I was sitting next to Shawn, I deserved to have punch dumped all over me!"

Honestly, I was more fascinated by his vast Tebetubbie knowledge than what would be later known as 'The Great Punch Incident of 1997.'

I stifled a giggle and nodded. "That must be awful sticky. Maybe you should go take a shower, and we can discuss sofa versus your bed when you come out?"

Charlie nodded and set off into the bathroom. I, in turn, burst into a fit of laughter as soon as I heard the water go on. I'm sure there was more to the punch fiasco then he was letting on. Charlie's not the type to just sit there and let a splash fight go by without getting involved. He's that big of a child.

A little later, a tall shadow fell over me, and I tipped my face up again. Those eyes. Those hypnotic, cobalt orbs. My hands began to shake a little as he leaned over in an attempt to see what I was drawing. I could feel my cheeks started to tint, and I prayed he'd think it was just a trick of the dim light.

"You'll drip on it; go away," I squeaked, pushing him gently from me.

Charlie's trademark grin creased his lips as he shook his damp hair, droplets of water spraying everywhere. My gaze followed as one drop started at the corner of his eye, trickled down his cheek, over his jaw, and made the jump to his bare shoulder…drawing my attention to his lack of a shirt. Cotton drawstring sleep pants hung low on his hips, and I could feel the heat creep back into my cheeks.

Seconds later, he was beside me on the couch, again leaning over me to catch a glimpse of my sketch. I found myself chewing on my lower lip nervously. The proximity suddenly made my heart thump a little quicker. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening.

Like the genius I am, I swiftly think of a way to change the subject. Gesturing to the mini fridge, I smiled and suggested we break out some of those little bottles. We could easily access the key; my father had, without thinking, given it to Elisha, as she's the most responsible. My step-sister foolishly left it on her dresser.

"Wouldn't your dad have a cow if he got up here, and we've emptied the mini-bar?" Charlie queried as I knelt beside the cabinet, working open the lock.

I shook my head. "Nope. As long as I'm home and not out causing trouble, he doesn't care if I drink. And as this is home of the next six days…"

With a shrug, my friend reached inside and pulled out the first bottle he touched. In what seemed like one fluid movement, he'd removed the cap and drank down the contents. I have to admit, that shocked me slightly. I'd never seen him drink before, even in all our years of friendship. It was strange.

One hour and a dozen little bottles later, we're cackling like idiots and poking each other. I scurry away and fling myself onto the sofa, using my long forgotten sketchpad as a shield. All of a sudden I'm aware of his closeness once more. I can feel his body heat threatening to burn me.

"What are you doing?" I tried to squirm away slightly, only to be stopped by the arm of the sofa, trapped.

"I'm gonna get a look at that," he reached over, trying to pull down the side of the pad to see, "whether you want me to or not."

His hand brushed mine in the struggle over the pad; I jerked my precious art away from him, falling off of the couch with a thud. Before I knew it, I was pinned to the floor with Charlie's weight pressing me gently in the carpet. My pulse quickened drastically as I lay there, allowing my work to be pried from my hands.

Rather then taking the chance to open the pad and see what he had been so adamant about viewing, Charlie tossed the drawings back onto the sofa, staring deeply into my eyes. I swallowed nervously, hoping he couldn't hear the erratic beating of my heart. I could barely breathe. My head was spinning.

Before I could get out a word asking that he get off me, my lips are occupied in a kiss. A heart melting kiss that had both my mind and my body screaming in complete opposites. My body cried out for more, never wanting this kiss to end; my mind knew in an instant that it was wrong. My hands traveled upward, one resting on his cheek, holding his mouth in place on mine while the other found itself at home on his chest, feeling his heart pound just as swiftly as my own.

And then it was over. He moved his head to kiss my neck gently and ruined the moment. The fantasy broke around me like glass as I rolled from under him. I grabbed my drawing and ran into my room, locking the door behind me. Safe in my bed, I let one lone, confused tear trickle from my eye. What was happening?