Charlotte grabbed her shirt on her way out to the kitchen, but was admittedly casual about pulling it on as she walked out of the bedroom area.  She waited until she awas in the kitchen itself, out of his sight, before she put her hands on the countertop and hung her head.  She needed to clear it.  There was no reason for the barrage of self-doubt, fear, and overwhelming just⊠feelings.
Wow, she really hated feelings as it turned out. Â They were complicated, unpredictable, and didnât operate according to any sort of rules she could figure out. Â She also wasnât sure why her head acknowledging what her heart already knew â that it would be so hard to lost this close relationshipâ prompted the urge to put space between them. Â Wasnât the more normal response to try and hold it close? Â She didnât know. Â When her relationship with her parents was at risk, because of their selfishness, she buried herself in school work. Â When her relationships with Jess and Isobel, as a group, were at risk, she literally sent herself packing. Â If she couldnât control it, she ran from it.
It wasnât a long time before Carter came to find her.  Long enough sheâd taken a minute to breathe and sheâd swallowed a bottle of water.  She had more water for each of them, but was just kind of staring into space, looking at the window as she tried to contain her irrational panic.  It didnât startle her to hear his footsteps in the quiet apartment, or to hear his low voice. That was the normal response.  Sheâd gotten to the point she was at with Carter because she cared about him â and because he could trust the way he cared about her, too.  Heâd proven it over and over again, and never more than when he found her.
She turned and walked back to him, thinking for a second about bagging on him for asking such a clingy, girly question.  Somehow, though, heâd changed her, because it wasnât even that tempting of a thought.  He was drunk, mostly naked, and messy⊠and all of it was actually her fault.  That applied in both good and bad ways.  And she realized, she didnât want to clearly have the upper hand in their relationship.  She didnât want to put him down enough she could be on top.
There were two cold bottles of water pinched in her hand, so she held that hand away from him so she didnât chill his bare skin. Â She ran the other hand over the toned muscles, feeling the cuts in his abdomen and his chest. Â The rush of desire that rolled through her wasnât surprising â she recognized it for what it was now and it was less overwhelming this time. Â She ignored it for a moment to focus on his question.
"I called Chris because my mother called earlier.  She dressed me down and discarded my relationship with you and it rattled me.  I didnât want to lay it all on you, but I needed⊠distraction.  I needed someone who could prop me up because I generally do after I talk to her."  Her eyes wandered up his face and she threaded her fingers into his hair, the way he had to her before sheâd left him in her bed anyway. "You shouldâve been the first person I called.  Youâre the closest person in the world to me, the one who knows me the best, and I need to stop letting it freak me out and just⊠enjoy it.  I just donât want to be too much for you.  Too clingy or too needy⊠you know?  I donât want to tie you down.â She bit her lip and barely kept her smile back.  âUnless you want me to.  I guess⊠well I guess what Iâm thinking isnât the problem.  Itâs that Iâm over thinking.  Make me stop.âÂ
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