The Charm Offensive(16)

And then Dev is gently guiding him down an alley away from Angie, who’s now being coached by her handler on proper kissing technique for the camera angles. Warm fingers are on his back as Dev clicks off the mic belt. Underneath the mounting panic, Charlie is dimly aware he might vomit again.

“What’s wrong, Charlie?”

“I… I can’t kiss Angie. I don’t even know her.”

Dev nods in slow understanding. “Right, but you’re getting to know her, and kissing is part of this whole process. You knew kissing was going to be required when you came on this show, right?”

He did know. Abstractly.

Dev is looking at him like he’s trying to learn the language of Charlie’s eyebrow furrow.

“Tell me what you need in order to make this work.”

Ryan shouts, “Come on, D. We don’t have all night!”

But Dev shrugs his shoulders, like they do have all night, like they’re not going to do anything until Charlie’s ready. He manages a deep breath. It’s just kissing. Maybe if he tells himself it’s just kissing over and over again, he’ll start to believe it. “It’s fine,” he tells Dev. “I’ll be fine.”

This time, he is unequivocally not fine. Dev arranges him against the brick wall, Angie’s soft body pinned beneath him. “Sorry,” Charlie tells her before they begin filming again.

“Sorry for what?”

“For absolutely all of it.”

Angie reaches up for the back of his neck and pulls him down. Her mouth is soft. She tastes like mints and smells like lavender shampoo, and for a second, it all seems okay. Not exactly enjoyable, but okay.

But then he thinks okay is probably not good enough, because everything hinges on Charlie selling this kiss so he can get his old life back. So he tries to kiss Angie like it means something, and he waits for the feeling he generally associates with how kissing another person should feel. He waits, and he waits.

He doesn’t feel anything at all.

He pulls away from Angie. “I need air.”

“We’re outside,” she says, but he’s already stumbling away from her, past the sidewalk barricade closing off the set. He tries to take his three deep breaths, but it feels like there are shards of glass in his lungs.

It’s a panic attack. You’re having a panic attack. Panic attacks cannot kill you.

But cars can, and he’s so deep in his spiral, he steps off the curb and is only spared from being flattened by a Prius when Dev grabs a handful of his blazer and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. “Come here, Charlie. Sit down, sit down.”

Dev keeps pulling until they’re both seated side by side on the edge of the curb. “So, what just happened?” he asks patiently.

Charlie searches for something logical amidst the spiral to offer Dev as an explanation. “It’s been a while. Since I’ve dated.”

“How long is a while?”

He pretends to think about it—pretends like he doesn’t remember the night he had a similar panic attack in the bathroom of a Mediterranean restaurant with self-punishing clarity. “Two years.”

“Okay… but before that? You’ve dated, right?”

“Not much.” Charlie taps out Morse code against his thighs.

“Why don’t you date?”

“I don’t know.” And that’s usually all it takes. Usually if Charlie stutters and sweats enough, people stop pushing him.

“You don’t know why you don’t date?”

Why won’t Dev stop pushing him?

“I…” He manages to seize a deep breath. “I don’t want to think about this.”

“But you’re on a reality dating show. You can’t spend the next nine weeks not thinking about it.” Dev reaches over for Charlie’s hand, which is still tapping out the pattern on his leg. He moves slowly, so Charlie has time to avoid contact if he wants. Charlie doesn’t avoid contact, and Dev’s warm fingers come over his like a weighted therapy blanket.

“I’m here to help you through this, Charlie, but you’ve got to talk to me.”

Dev squeezes his hand, and it feels different than the way holding Megan’s hand did before. It reminds Charlie of the other night, when they shook hands, and he forgot to let go.

He stands up and tugs his blazer across his chest. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not here to find love, remember?”





Dev


“It can’t be done. We can’t salvage this.” Skylar Jones stares at the monitor. “He’s just too awkward.”

Dev watches the footage over Skylar’s shoulder. It’s a relayed video of what’s happening two rooms over, where Charlie is spending his first Courting Date with Megan. Since the Kissing Catastrophe with Angie three nights ago, Charlie has somehow only gotten worse at being Cologne Ad Charles in front of the cameras. At Wednesday’s Quest, he walked directly into a lighting kit when Daphne tried to hold his hand, and yesterday, while the women were competing in a literal quest (with treasure maps and shovels) Charlie sat down in the dirt to put his head between his knees in the middle of moderating a fight between Megan and three other women.

So naturally, Maureen rigged it so Megan could earn the first solo date with Charlie. After three Group Quests, Megan was named the week one champion, and it caused drama all through the castle. Charlie looks violently ill on his date as Megan places a flirtatious hand on his arm over their untouched salmon.