The next day around noon, Charlie was watching Sportscenter in her pajamas, since her only class that day wasn't until three. Miles was in the shower. He and Charlie still hadn't spoken about her late arrival the night before. She had finally walked into the apartment around 3:45 a.m. Miles had been up, still fully dressed, watching TV in the dark when she walked in. He hadn't turned around or looked at her, so she just said, "Goodnight, Miles," and slunk into her room.
The phone rang, and Charlie grabbed it. "Hey," she said, having a feeling about who it was.
"Miles there?" It was Bass, of course. She shivered with excitement at his voice, and at the memory of the night before. She never had taken her dress off…
"He's in the shower," she said. "'Bout to leave for the bar, I think."
"Okay, well not to be all cloak and dagger but I should probably make this quick. I want to take you out this week. What night works?"
Charlie grinned hugely. "Um, I have a late seminar Wednesday, but Thursday or Friday is fine." Charlie ached to see Bass sooner, preferably within the hour, but she was a strong believer in the school that said you shouldn't be available for a date on a day's notice.
"I'll make Thursday work," Bass said quickly. "Just have to move… some things."
"A fight?" Charlie had to ask. Miles had said two weeks ago that he rarely saw Bass on Thursdays.
Ignoring her question, Bass said, "Obviously I can't pick you up there, like I'd like to. Can I meet you at school?"
Charlie described how to get to the building where she usually did her research in the evenings, and they agreed he would pick her up there at six. Miles shouldn't be an issue because he would be at the bar until late and not looking for her. They would have the night all to themselves.
"Looking forward to it," Bass said. "And go ahead and tell Miles I said to call me. I want to apologize again for keeping you last night."
Charlie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, seems like you're full of regrets."
"See you Thursday," was his only response, and the line clicked.
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On Thursday, Charlie dressed with extra care, wearing something that would work both for going out with Bass and for sitting in front of a computer for hours. She'd decided on slim-fitting black pants, a burgundy sweater with a deep V-neck and a necklace of a knotted leather cord with silver beads. Her hair framed her face in loose waves. All day, she was flushed and smiling with anticipation.
As six o'clock neared, Charlie made her way out of the building, walking with her professor, Marin Jacobs. Marin was a tall woman in her fifties, with long gray hair and bold red glasses. Charlie had connected with her through one of her history professors at Penn, and they had gotten along famously in her phone interview last spring. Over the last several weeks that they'd been working together, Charlie and Marin had developed a close relationship. Charlie enjoyed that the professor clearly respected her and had strong hopes for her future; Charlie felt supported and valued in a way she never had been by a woman she admired.
They entered the lobby of the building, and Charlie's heart stuttered. Bass was there, looking amazing in a leather jacket, white button down, and jeans. He was leaning casually against the wall of the hallway, scanning the campus newspaper he held in one hand. At their approach, he glanced up and set it down on a nearby table, striding toward Charlie with a restrained grin on his face.
"Hey," he said, pulling her into a brief one-armed hug, then turning to face Marin.
"Hey," Charlie replied. "Bass, this is Professor Marin Jacobs. She's the one I've been working with this semester. Marin, this is…"
"Bass Monroe," he said, leaning forward to extend his hand for a handshake. The professor nodded and smiled.
"Nice to meet you, Bass. Charlie has mentioned you a few times."
Bass reacted smoothly, smiling, "Not nearly as often as she's mentioned you to me, I'm sure. It sounds like you guys are doing some fascinating work."
"You have an interest in history?" Marin asked.
"I do, but as I've told Charlie, I'm more of a Civil War guy. I understand you're an expert on the American Revolution?" Marin nodded modestly, and Bass continued, "I'd be interested in your thoughts on George III as a leader trying to hold a nation together, compared to Abraham Lincoln."
Marin's eyes lit up with inspiration, "That is so funny that you say that, most people are intent on comparing Washington and Lincoln, but I agree with you, I think George III versus Lincoln is the far more relevant comparison…" She cut herself off then, shaking her head. "But we don't have an hour to stand here and analyze it now. So you study history?"
"Just as a hobby," Bass clarified. "I would have loved to be a professor, but I joined the Marines right after college and just retired a couple years ago."
Marin looked impressed. "Oh, thank you for your service," she said reflexively. "My father was in the Navy for six years."
"Thank him for his," Bass replied. A few seconds of silence fell among them, and he added, "Well, if you're done with Charlie for the day, she and I should get going. You ready?" he addressed Charlie.
Charlie nodded. "See you tomorrow, Marin," she said, and they departed.
Once they were settled into the car, Bass asked Charlie, "So for dinner… adventurous or safe?"
Charlie laughed. "Ummm… cuisine-wise? Or like, eating while sitting on a runaway train? What are we talking about here?"
Bass just smiled and repeated, "Adventurous or safe?"
"Well, adventurous, of course," Charlie said and settled back into her seat, excited to find out where the evening would take them.
She began to question her choice as they drove into a neighborhood somewhat reminiscent of the one where Bass fought, but more residential, with tiny, rundown homes stacked close on top of one another. Bass stopped in front of one with warm orange light glowing through the windows and about a half dozen late-model cars parked nearby.
They walked up the front sidewalk, and Charlie saw a small wooden sign nailed to the door: "Tum Nak." Bass entered confidently.
Immediately, they were surrounded by warm air, the heavy scent of spicy food, and the subtle sound of diners conversing, dishes rattling, and drinks pouring. A hostess popped around the corner and gestured them over to an impossibly small table for two next to a fireplace with a few logs emitting a cheery glow. She disappeared, and Charlie looked around in appreciation.
"This is really cute," she commented. "You've been here before?"
Bass nodded, "A few times. It's nice when the weather gets cold."
"What's good?" she asked, looking around for a menu board.
"I have no idea," Bass answered, then explained, "They just bring out whatever they're cooking tonight. It's a fixed menu, probably eight or ten courses." Taking her hand across the table, he concluded, "You said adventurous."
Charlie smiled, "I did. Sounds perfect." For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, both smiling, until Bass squeezed her hand and released it.
"So, I'm glad I got to meet Marin," Bass said. "She seemed really easygoing. How did you end up working for her?"
Charlie launched into a description of how she had gotten connected with Marin; how at first she felt awkward being one-on-one with her but now saw her as a mentor and friend. As she spoke, Bass listened attentively, asking her questions where necessary, seeming to absorb every word.
Eventually, their food started coming out, and they commented on the soup, the vegetables, the meats, the sauces. Charlie loved Thai food, though she typically only had curry, so this was a new experience. Bass seemed pleased with her willingness to try everything, though she definitely wasn't about to eat a whole plate of, for example, tiny, slimy shrimp, just to impress him.
As their meal drew to an end, they were served coconut-rice pancakes and fresh cups of hot tea. Charlie was sated and felt absolutely relaxed yet happy. Their date at the football game had been great, but it was easy to attribute that to the excitement of the Bears winning, and they'd had the game itself to talk about the entire time. But this, her and Bass at a small table, discussing their interests, their pasts, their experiences in Chicago and Philadelphia, was even more enjoyable because it was just them, no buffer, no distractions.
Bass reached up and tweaked a strand of her hair, commenting, "You know, firelight does amazing things to your hair." He ran his thumb briefly along her jawline, and excitement pooled in her stomach. "Do you camp at all?" Charlie shook her head. "I'll have to take you sometime," Bass said. She made a face, and he laughed. "Trust me. When you're with someone who knows what he's doing, you'll love it."
Charlie blushed, thinking about other areas in which Bass knew what he was doing that she'd enjoyed very much. His thoughts evidently strayed to the same place, and he fixed her with a heated stare. The spell was broken by the arrival of their server asking if they needed anything else. Bass checked his watch and said they should go, taking out and handing over a folded set of bills.
Their night wasn't over. Bass drove them to a club that was closer to downtown, on a well-lit, busy street. The valet took the car, and Bass put his arm around Charlie and led her through the door. A tall, thin young man sat on a stool just on the other side. Bass produced two tickets from his pocket and handed them over. The man examined them and said, "Grab any of the booths by the stage," and waved them past.
Bass held aside the faded red curtain at the entrance to the inner room, and Charlie stepped through. She was excited to see a jazz band warming up on the stage. Near the band, at the end of the room, were about half a dozen booths for two. Bass led her to one, and she slid in, Bass joining her.
"This ok?" he asked, indicating the view of the band.
"Yeah, this will work," Charlie said, fighting for an air of casualness, then giving in and admitting, "This is awesome."
Bass put his arm around her and pulled her against him. "Glad you like." They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying finally touching each other, listening to the band run through different scales, rhythms, and melodies. They ordered drinks that appeared quickly, and finally the lights dimmed and the show began. Bass held Charlie close to him the whole time, a few times murmuring comments in her ear or dropping his head down to kiss her neck or her mouth.
The band was incredible. Charlie usually listened to loud, rough rock music—"angry at the world" type stuff—but the sultry, romantic tones of the jazz were beautiful to her, too. She was disappointed when the band finally announced that the next song would be their last, and she made sure to savor every second. As the final note faded away, she joined the room in applauding enthusiastically, and Bass pulled his arm from around her to do the same. The band was selling albums on the way out, and Bass bought one, handing it to Charlie to put on when they got in the car.
As they waited for the valet to bring Bass' car around, Charlie asked, "So what now? Over to your place?"
Bass' face flashed with annoyance. "Charlie," he said. "That's not the only reason I asked you out, you know."
"Bass," Charlie responded, imitating his tone. "Yes, I do know." She paused, then smiled teasingly, adding, "But that doesn't mean we should deprive ourselves."
Looking down at her, Bass' eyes took on a hazy look of desire. "Well, if you insist," he said, lowering his head to hers for a kiss. Charlie pressed into him, and after a few hot seconds, they broke apart, aware that they were still in public.
They arrived back at Bass' place after spending most of the ride running their hands over each other to the extent they could while Bass was driving—at one point, the tires had emitted loud sounds of protest as he veered too far onto the shoulder. Once the front door was closed behind them, Bass pushed Charlie against it, kissing her forcefully. He pushed her jacket off her shoulders and shrugged out of his own, tossing them aside. Bass ran his hands up under her sweater, causing her to yelp at the feeling of his cold hands, but she twined her arms around his neck, holding him close, letting him know not to stop. Charlie could feel his erection through the front of his jeans, pressing into the thin fabric of her pants. She rubbed against him, and he groaned.
Bass kept his hands on her back, pulling her into him as he kissed along her neck. Charlie dropped her hand to touch him through his jeans, and as she stroked him, he murmured, "Charlie… Charlie…" over and over, sucking on her skin, his hands grasping her hard. Finally, he backed away from her slightly and tugged on the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head, and he unceremoniously removed her bra as well. He palmed her breasts, teasing her nipples to hardness, and Charlie struggled to concentrate as she unbuttoned and removed his shirt, leaving him in only his undershirt and jeans. Then Charlie decided she'd enjoyed having the upper hand.
As she had in the alley a couple weeks prior, Charlie dropped to her knees in front of Bass, still in his front hallway. She made quick work of his belt and fly, pulling out his hard cock so it was standing out proudly in front of her face. Bass watched her with his mouth half-open, breathing hard. Determined, she wrapped her hand around his base, jerking softly for a few beats, drawing a small moan from Bass. Then she wet her lips and took just his head into her mouth, working her heat over the smooth skin of his cock, sucking his precum onto her tongue, savoring the salty taste.
"Fuck," Charlie heard Bass whisper above her. She kept going, pushing his penis further back into her mouth, dragging the sensitive head along her soft palate, suppressing her gag reflex, feeling him grow rock-hard in response. Finally, she pulled him out to take a breath, and he put his hands on her shoulders to still her. Falling to his knees in front of her, Bass rolled Charlie onto her back, quickly unfastening her pants and indicating she should take them off. Charlie shoved her pants and underwear off her hips, and Bass did the same. Then he was on top of her.
Charlie spread her legs beneath Bass, wrapping her arms around him. He captured her lips in a heated kiss, plunging his tongue inside, forcing her jaw open as he pressed her into the floor. Releasing her mouth, breathing raggedly, he held his cock in his hand, rubbing it against her wetness, causing her to sigh and move beneath him, urging him on. Finally, he pushed his way inside her smoothly, fucking her hard, holding one hand behind her neck to steady her beneath him.
Bass bit down on the side of Charlie's neck as he moved inside her, making her cry out and flex against him, pushing him deeper inside. Her hips dug somewhat painfully into the floor beneath her, but she didn't care; the pleasure of him finally filling her was too great. Bass' movements grew harder, almost brutal as he pounded her into the hardwood. With a groaned, "Fuck, Charlie," he pumped into her a few final times, coming hard inside her.
Charlie lay beneath him, panting, as he relaxed on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows and legs, then rolling over to his side, pulling her on top of him. Charlie kissed the warm skin of his neck wetly, darting her tongue out to taste him. Bass ran his hands over her body, finally resting one hand on her ass, moving the other on her thigh, lightly skating his fingers between her legs.
"Sorry I didn't wait for you," he said. "Should I…" he shifted to give himself a better angle to touch her.
Charlie shook her head, pushing his arm down, "It's okay. I still enjoyed it, trust me." She pushed her pelvis into him, curling closer, suddenly feeling very chilled and exposed in the cool air of the apartment. "But maybe we could move to the bed."
Bass sat up, then stood, pulling her to her feet. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, then led her back into his bedroom, where they got under the covers. Tracing his fingers through Charlie's hair, his face just inches from hers, Bass said in a low voice, "You know I have to take you home at some point."
Still shivering slightly, Charlie replied, "God, I wish I could just stay here."
"Me too," Bass said, shifting toward her, pulling her into his chest. Charlie settled in contentedly, trying to ignore the fact that she'd have to get up soon and spend the rest of the night alone in her own bed.
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Charlie and Bass continued seeing each other as often as possible, on evenings when Miles was working and Charlie wouldn't have to come up with a lie to explain why she wasn't at home. Bass planned their first few dates, taking her to more of his favorite restaurants in the city, including the "safe" option from their first date, which turned out to be a sedate steak house on a well-lit boulevard. They went to the movies, where Charlie revealed to Bass with a laugh that she usually snuck in sodas and candy rather that pay exorbitant concession stand prices. They even caught the evening show at the Adler planetarium, Bass insisting that she couldn't leave Chicago without having been at least once.
After a while, Charlie started suggesting dates, too. She brought Bass to a student-favorite Italian bistro near U Chicago for an extremely cheap pasta dinner, and later she took him to a free student performance of Henry V. Bass grumbled about being the oldest person there by about twenty years, but she could tell he enjoyed it because it made her happy to have him in her world.
Another night, when Bass said he had somewhere he had to be by ten, they met for a short date at a coffee shop where Charlie spent a lot of her time studying. The place was full of shabby upholstered chairs, funky glass lamps, and had battered old board games for customers to play. Bass surprised Charlie by challenging her to a game of Scrabble, and he proclaimed he'd been duped when she soundly beat him, ensuring victory by playing "za" on a triple letter score with her second-to-last move. She'd been disappointed when he had to leave shortly thereafter, especially because she knew he was going to fight and wouldn't admit it to her.
Throughout the weeks they were dating, Charlie knew that Bass had continued fighting—and why wouldn't he, she reasoned with herself. Every time she asked about it, he ignored her or changed the subject, so she stopped bringing it up. Charlie didn't really know what she would say even if he would talk about it. Of course, she wanted Bass to stay safe and healthy. But he seemed to handle himself fine. And she had to admit that the thought of him in the ring was a crazy turn on. Every time he showed up to meet her with a new cut or scrape visible, she wanted to devour him right then and there. One evening he picked her up with a nasty bruise on his cheekbone darkening his features; she'd sucked him off in the car on their way to the restaurant.
A few days before Thanksgiving, about three weeks after their date at the Thai place, Charlie and Bass spent a rare full day together. Charlie's Monday class had been cancelled, and Bass jumped at the opportunity to have her over while Miles was at work. They'd cooked lunch, fumbling through the various steps of putting together pecan-crusted tilapia and zucchini fries, enjoying working as a team. Then they'd spent a few hours watching a movie on TV. They lay together on the couch as the credits played, Charlie's head resting on Bass' chest. He sighed contentedly and said, "I love having you here."
Charlie's heart lifted, and she replied, "I love being here." They both sat silently, the "L-word" hanging in the air between them. Bass squeezed his arms harder around her, and she traced her fingers along his forearm. Suddenly, unable to stop herself, Charlie said, "We have to tell him."
Miles. The elephant in the room whenever they were together. They couldn't entirely avoid mentioning him, of course. His schedule, his ignorance, his inevitable disapproval, dictated their every move. When they saw each other, where they met, the fact that they could never be at "her place." But Charlie knew that things were getting serious between her and Bass, that this wasn't some casual fling that was better left hidden. She was falling for Bass, and she suspected he felt the same. It was time to take things out of the shadows.
Behind her, she felt Bass sigh heavily. "I know. I was going to say the same thing. Fuck." He sounded frustrated. "How do we do it?"
Charlie rolled around to face Bass, balancing on the edge of the couch. "I was thinking maybe at Thanksgiving." Bass and Miles usually spent Thanksgiving at a bar watching football and getting wasted. This year, Charlie had decreed that plan unacceptable and ordered a Whole Foods holiday dinner to be delivered to Miles' apartment so that they could have some semblance of a civilized meal.
Bass nodded, "Okay. That sounds good. We'll tell him at Thanksgiving. After he's had several drinks. More than several." Charlie noticed he looked slightly queasy.
"Do you really think it will be that bad?" she asked.
"I don't know," Bass replied. "But yeah, I have a feeling he's going to be furious. I just have to figure out how to make him see that I'm not just using you for sex."
"Oh, you're not?" Charlie said teasingly, with a huge smile, hitching her leg up between Bass', rubbing her body into his.
He smiled too and said, "Shockingly, no." He dropped his forehead to hers and said, "I really care about you, Charlie." With that, he kissed her hard. And, even though it wasn't just about the sex, Charlie thought, it was certainly a nice bonus.
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The Thanksgiving meal took place at the kitchen table rather than at the coffee table, Charlie having compromised that it could be moved so they all had a view of the TV playing the football game. Bass had brought over a very expensive bottle of bourbon, and he kept Miles' tumbler faithfully filled. The Bears played the Lions in their traditional Thanksgiving Day game, and the three of them were elated when they won handily.
They were still sitting around the table, picking at the remnants of their food and sipping drinks, when Bass shot Charlie a questioning look. Charlie nodded at him, swallowing nervously. Bass had said he wanted to be the one to do most of the talking, though he agreed that Charlie should be there, too.
"So," Bass said to Miles. "I haven't had a chance to tell you, I've been seeing someone for a little while now."
Miles raised his eyebrows and grinned tipsily, "Hey, that's great!" He reached out and shoved Bass' shoulder. "A little while as in, for more than a night?"
Bass rolled his eyes. "Yeah, for more than a night. I really care about her, Miles."
"Uh, wow. Well, congratulations, man, good." Miles took another sip of bourbon, then asked, "How did you meet her?"
This was the delicate moment. "Actually…" Bass hesitated. Charlie was sure that he had practiced this a dozen times, but she could see that he was struggling to know what to say. "Miles, it's Charlie."
Miles froze, looking confusedly between Bass and Charlie, still smiling, waiting for the punch line. At both of their grim expressions, his face dropped. Addressing Bass, he asked, "What? What are you talking about?"
"Charlie and I have been seeing each other," Bass said, not touching or looking at her, keeping his attention on Miles. "We decided to tell you because it's getting pretty serious."
Miles turned to Charlie, shocked, and she nodded in confirmation. She longed to grab Bass' hand, to gain the steadiness his touch would provide, but she knew it would be the wrong move, would only risk provoking Miles further.
"What the fuck?" Miles said, now glaring, furious. "What the fuck are you telling me, Bass? You and Charlie have been SEEING each other?" His hands were braced on the edge of the table, as if he were holding himself in place.
"Yes," Bass said simply, waiting out Miles' reaction.
"So, what you're really saying is that you've been fucking," Miles spat, disgusted. "Is that right? You're telling me you fucked my niece?"
"Miles!" Charlie exclaimed, horrified. At this, Bass did reach out for her hand, holding it bracingly.
"NO, Charlie," Miles yelled, not looking at her. Of Bass, he demanded, "Is that right?"
Bass met his gaze steadily, "It's not like that. I told you, I care about her. I respect her."
Miles laughed, a harsh bark of a laugh, "Oh you respect her? Really? Like you respected Flora? And Jessica? And Taylor? And Duncan for about the tenth time, for god's sake? And that's just within the last few months, you fucking piece of shit," he said, growing angrier by the second.
Bass squeezed Charlie's hand, and she squeezed back reassuringly. She knew that he had a lot of women in his past, and she didn't care. "Miles, what can I say?" Bass asked. "We wanted you to know. We don't want to hide this anymore."
"'This?'" Miles said disbelievingly. "There is no 'this.' This thing where you fuck my niece behind my back? That's over." Bass opened his mouth to protest, and Miles slammed his palm on the table violently, causing the dishes to rattle. "OVER, Bass," he shouted.
"I'm sorry, brother, but I can't accept that," Bass said quietly, studiously composed in the face of Miles' rage.
"Get the FUCK out of here," Miles said, leaping to his feet, shaking with rage. "Bass, get the fuck away from me before I do something I'll regret."
Bass rose to his feet, too, and Charlie followed suit. "Miles," Bass tried once more, and in response, Miles snatched one of the knives up off the table.
"GET OUT!" Miles screamed, a wild gleam in his eyes. Bass held his hands up, palms out, and backed away, pulling his jacket off the couch as he went. When he was out the door, Miles turned to Charlie. He dropped the knife to the table with a clatter.
"You're not to see him. You're not to speak to him. You're not to think about him," Miles commanded darkly. "Jesus Christ, Charlie, how could you? How could you debase yourself with…" He broke off, shaking his head slowly.
"With Bass?" Charlie said sarcastically. "Your best friend? Your 'brother'?"
Miles shook his head. "No. NO!" he insisted. "While you live under my roof, you stay away from him. If you keep seeing him, you'll have no place here. Do you understand me? I will kick your ass out."
Her eyes filling with tears, Charlie didn't even stop to grab her coat before tearing out of the apartment, determined to catch up with Bass. She did, stopping him in the lobby of the building, throwing herself into his arms.
"Shhhh," Bass comforted her, swaying slightly. "Charlie, it's going to be okay. He'll come around."
Charlie shook her head. With a sob, she said, "He told me if we keep seeing each other, he's going to kick me out. I have two and a half weeks of school left!"
"Shit," was Bass' only response.
Sudden inspiration struck Charlie. "Maybe I could stay with you!" she said frantically. "Just 'til I go back to Philly." She pulled away slightly and looked up at Bass. Her heart sank when she saw the cornered look on his face.
"I don't know," he said, frowning. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Fine," Charlie said, stepping back from him, feeling the sting of his rejection. "Just forget it."
Bass reached for her, placating, "Charlie, come on. You're talking about moving in with me. We'll figure something else out."
Charlie's face was streaked with tears, and she shook her head hopelessly. "Forget it. Maybe Miles is right. I'm leaving soon anyway. Maybe we should just end this now."
Bass didn't respond, just looking defeated. Sick with humiliation, Charlie turned and fled back toward the elevator, feeling like her heart was breaking into a million pieces.
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