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Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitherareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.
ISBN978-1-7781330-0-8(paperback)
ISBN978-1-7781330-2-2(e-book)Tomybabyboy,
Youaretheexclamationmarkattheendofthehappiestsentence.
Thankyouforbeingmymiracleandmydreamcometrue.CONTENTS
Playlist
1.Unlucky#13
2.Bed>Sex
3.FirstTimesSuck
4.GonnaBeaNo
5.IsThatMyFace?
6.InflatableEgo
7.EasilyGoaded
8.CockSocks&CinnamonBuns
9.Dogs>GirlfriendsatChristmas
10.Carter’sPalaceOfLove
11.FinalCountdown
12.“PayUp.”—Garrett
13.Oprah&Oopsies
14.Doomsday
15.NotaFan,Karma
16.FeedingMyFears
17.Oreos,SoulMates,&Fuckups
18.Don’tGoBaconMyHeart
19.GoodSurprises
20.Forward
21.HolyFuckballs
22.I’mNotAnxious;I’mInControl
23.Cockblocked
24.MyPantsHaveLeftTheBuilding
25.AmIWalkingFunny?
26.DidIDoItRight?
27.BedtimeBurritos&SurpriseGuests
28.WhoTurnedUpTheHeat?
29.Don’tPokeTheCrazyLady
30.Don’tPokeTheFuckingBearEither
31.WhenPushComesToShove
32.HalfOfHerHeart
33.TrustExercises
34.Hello,Mr.Incredible
35.BallsDeep
36.LikeOlivia,ButTall&MinusTheBoobs
37.SpoilerAlert:IDidn’tLastAMonth
38.ALoveDeeperThanOreos
39.IsThatAMariachiBand?
40.IWillSurvive
41.Dilf-ingSoHard
42.BeMyBaby-DoggieMama
43.I’mNotImmature,I’mGoofy;There’sADifference
44.It’sSo…White
45.ForbiddenOreos,Betrayal,&Wins
46.YouCanDoWhateverYouWant
47.Olivia’sDamnTie
48.SlowDancingInABurningRoom
49.ForeverDownTheDriveway
50.ReclaimingMyForever
51.Rehearsals&Speeches&Baths&Shit
52.WhatIsHeDoing?
53.Flippy-Floppies
Epilogue:Oops
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthorPLAYLIST
SomethingLikeOlivia–JohnMayer
GoodForYou–JoshGracin
ConsiderMe–AllenStone
I’mWithYou–VanceJoy
CanIKissYou?–Dahl
ShapeofYou–EdSheeran
YoursintheMorning–PatrickDroney
SaturdaySun–VanceJoy
You&Me–JamesTW
CrossMe–EdSheeran,ft.ChancetheRappe&PnBRock
HalfofMyHeart–JohnMayer
ConversationsintheDark–JohnLegend
Let’sStayHomeTonight–Needtobreathe
CouldaLovedYouLonger–AdamDollar
IfItWeren’tForYou–Finmar
SlowDancinginaBurningRoom–JohnMayer
TryLosingOne–TylerBraden
PleaseKeepLovingMe–JamesTW
Speechless–Dan+Shay
UntilYou–Ahi
Millionaire–ChrisStapleton
Yours(WeddingEdition)–RussellDickersonCHAPTER1UNLUCKY#13CARTER
“Fuck.”
Rollingontomyback,Iinhalesharplyandthrowahandovermyhead.I’mfuckingspent,soItakeamomenttocatchmybreathbeforeItossmylegsovertheedgeofthebedandsitup,pullingthecondomoffmyquicklydeflatingcock.Mytongueswipesatabeadofsweatthatclingstomytoplip,andIplowmyfingersthroughmyhair.
“No,”Laurawhines,stickingherbottomlipout.Shenearlylaunchesherselfacrossthebed,reachingformewhenIstand.“Don’tgetupyet,Carter.”
Iholdupthecondom.Thatshouldbeexplanationenough,no?“Justthrowingoutthecondom,Laura.”
Herlightbrowsknittogether.“Lacey.”
Istiflealaugh.Oops.“Right.Sorry.Lacey.”
“Wecouldgoagain,”LaceycallswhileItossthecondominthebathroomtrashcan.
IleanmyforearmonthewallasItakealeakinthetoilet.Wecouldgoagain.Ilikesex.Ilovesex.Evenbetterwhenit’swithgirlslikeLaura.
Fuck.Lacey
LaceytheblondebombshellfromthecoverofMaximinAugustoflastyear.Irememberthatmuchbecauseshetoldmethirteentimesatthebartonight.IstartedcountingwhenthatM-wordlefthermouththethirdtime.
Wecouldabsolutelygoagain,butIhaveanitchtowatchherleave.Anitchforsomewell-deservedprivacy.Contrarytopopularbelief,Iactuallyvaluemyalonetime,evenifitcouldbebetterspentwithbodypartsburiedingirlswhohadbeenmostlynakedonthecoverofamagazineatonepointintheirlives.
Don’tgetmewrong;Lacey’sthekindofgirlyoudon’tthinktwiceaboutgettingintobedwithwhenyoujustwannahavesomefun.That’swhywefuckedlikerabbitsforthelastthirtyminuteswithoutpause,afterIgotheroffintheelevatoronthewayuphere.
MaybeI’dbeenfeelinggenerous,ormaybeIwasinthemood,butthetruthisIjustwantedtoshutherup.Imean,Igotitthefirsttwelvetimes—shewasonthecoverofamagazine.
Ithoughtthirteenwassupposedtobealuckynumber,notabadomen.
“Can’t,”Ifinallyanswer,washingmyhandswhilecheckingmyselfoutinthemirror.I’vegotanastysplitdownthecenterofmyswollenlowerlip.Igotoffeasytonight;theotherguydidn’t.“Gotanearlyflight.”
Ourflightisn’tuntilnoon;Isimplydon’twanthertostay.
Crossingmyarmsovermybarechest,Ileanagainstthedoorframeandwatchhersnugglebeneaththeblankets.Yeah,definitelynothappening.
“Youshouldprobablyheadout.”
Scoopingherdressoffthefloor,Iholditupinfrontofmesoshecan’tseethefaceI’mmaking.Ihaveundershirtsbiggerthanthis.Don’tgetmewrong—itlookedgreatonher.Ihadaneyefuloftitsandassthesecondshestrodebyourtableandgavemethefuckmeeyes.
Itossittowardher.That’sallshehas.Nobra,nopanties.
Fuck,thatshould’vebeenmywarning,shouldn’tithave?
Iyankmyboxerbriefsbackupmylegsandplantmyhandsonmyhips,watchingher.Waiting.She’snotdoingadamnthing,juststaringupatmewithwide,blueeyes.Sheseemstobeundertheimpressionthelargershemakesthosethings,theeasierI’llsway.Ican’tevenbegintotellherhowwrongsheis.
Iscratchmyscalp.Rockingbackonmyheels,Iclapmyfistintomypalmacoupletimes,clickabeatoutwithmytongue,andwaitforhertofuckingdosomething.
Thisissofuckingawkward.
“CanIstayheretonight?”herquietvoicefinallysqueaks.
Thisquestionagain.Igetiteverytime.Idon’tknowwhy.Isitbecausetheygenuinelywanttostay,orbecauseeachwomanImessaroundwithissecretlyholdingouthopethey’llbetheonetochangeCarterBeckett’sways,tomakehimwanttosettledown?SometimesIthinkthere’sapoolgoingwithaprizeforwhoeverthewinninggirlis.
Oh,wait;thereis.TheprizeisthecaptainoftheVancouverVipers’eight-figuresalary.
Myansweristhesameeverytime.“Idon’tdosleepovers.”
“ButI…”Herchinquivers,waterygazetrembling.Forfuck’ssake.Ican’twiththetears.Wemetalloftwohoursago;what’sshecryingover?“Ithoughtwegotalongwell.Ithoughtmaybe…Ithoughtyoulikedme.”
“Ilikedhangingoutwithyoutonight,”Imanage,runningahandovermynape.Thesexwasasolidsevenoutoften.“Youwerelotsoffun.”
Thepasttenseismeanttoemphasizethatthisisover,thisiswherewepartwaysandlikelyneverseeeachothereveragain,butinstead,ithastheoppositeeffect.
Abroad,brightbeamspreadsacrossherface.“Maybewecouldgoonadate.”
Ohfortheloveof—
Iresisttheurgetoslapapalmtomyface.Actually,Idon’t.Idragthatshitdownmyfaceinslowmotionbeforescrubbingitbackup,allwhilesuppressingagroan.Pointsforthat.
“Weliveindifferentcountries.”Shit,we’renotevenonthesamecoast.Weliterallycouldn’tbefartherapart.She’sinFlorida,I’minVancouver.
“Well,maybeIcould…cometoVan—”
“No.”Irritationpricklesthebackofmyneck,myjawtighteningasIturnawayandfindtheslacksIdiscardedbythehotelroomdoorthesecondwecamebarrelinginhere.IpulloutmyphoneandopentheUberapp.“Idon’tdate.I’msorry.I’mnotlookingforanythingseriousrightnow.”
Ihonestlydon’tunderstandhowthisisaconversationIstillneedtohave.I’mnotshyaboutmypersonallife.
No,that’sbullshit.Nobodyknowsshitaboutmypersonallife,exceptmyteammatesandfamily.Butthosehoursinbetweengamesandpassingoutaloneinmybed?I’mnotshyaboutthosehours.I’mphotographedwithdifferentwomeneveryweekend.Girlsknowwhatthey’regettingintowithme.There’sevenforums.Oneswheretheybitchaboutmetreatingthemlikeaone-nightstandallwhilehopingforasecondrideonmystick.
Butthat’swhattheyare,allofthem.One-nightstands.Theyknowthatgoingintoityetconsistentlyleavedisappointedwhenthat’sexactlyhowitplaysout.
Istuffmyphoneinmypocket,returningmyfocustothewomanonmytemporarybed.She’sfingeringthesilkyredfabricinherhands,eyesonme.
“IorderedyouanUber,”Itellher.“He’llbedownstairsinfive.”
Herjawhangs,withsurpriseortheurgetoargue,I’mnotsure.AllIknowisIneedhertogetdressedsoIcangetherthehelloutofhereandhavesomepeaceandquietbeforemyheadexplodes.
“Look,Lauren—”
“Lacey.”
“Lacey,right,sorry.Look,Lacey,Ihadagreattimewithyoutonight,butit’sovernow.Itravelwaytoomuchtomaintainanythingserious.”
“Isthattheonlyreason,then?”Sheslipsherhandinmine,lettingmetugherfromthebed.MygazedipsdownherbodybecauseI’mnotblind—she’safuckingrocket,alllong,bronzedlimbs,akillerrack,andatightlittlestomach.“Becauseyoudon’thavetimewithyourhockeyschedule?”
“Yes,”Ilie.“Idon’thavetime.”Icouldmaketime,Isuppose.IfIwasinterested.ButI’mnot.I’mneverinterested.
“Oh.”Attheveryleast,itseemstoappeaseher.Maybeitmakesherfeellessself-conscious.Idon’tknow,anddon’tparticularlycare.TheonlywomenIcareaboutaremymomandsister.AndCara,Iguess.“Well,canIgetyournumber?”
Fuckno.“Idon’tgiveoutmynumber.”
Beforeshecanreply,thedoortomysuitebeepstwiceandswingsopen.
“Youstillup,Beckett?Wannagrabaquickgamebefore—aw,forfuck’ssake.”MyteammateandbestbudEmmettBrodiepausesattheedgeofthebedroom,eyesbouncingbetweenmeandLaaa…Lacey.Heholdsahandup,shieldinghimselffromher.IguesshethinksCaramightcastratehimifheevenlooksatanotherwoman.Inallfairness,shemight.She’sonefiercechick.“ThisiswhyIroomwithLockwood.”
Yeah,he’sbeendoingthatforaboutayearnow.EmmettandIusedtoroomallthetimebeforehemetCara.Occasionally,Iconvincehimtodoitagain.ButheandLockwoodarebothinseriousrelationships,soIguesstheydon’tliketochancehavingrandomnakedgirlsintheirroomwhilewe’reontheroad.Igetthat.Ithink.Imean,Idon’tknowathingaboutrelationships,seriousorotherwise.
“She’sleaving,”ItellEmmett,peekingaroundhishandshieldtolookatLacey.She’sstillnaked.Shealsodoesn’tseemtogiveashitEmmettisstandinghere.Infact,hergazedragsdownhisbodyandthenbackup.
That’sthething.Girls—regulargirlsandgirlswho’vebeenonthecoverofMaxim—don’tgiveashitwhoitistheysleepwithsolongashe’sontherosterandmakingmillions.That’swhythey’recalledpuckbunnies;theyhopfromoneplayertothenext.
“Yourride’shere,”IsaytoLacey.“Mightwannagetdressed,sweetheart.”
“Well,I—”
“He’sgotagirlfriendandI’mnotinterested.”Annoyanceslicesmytoneandmakesmyjawtick.IwannaplayCODwithmyfriendandpassoutface-firstinmypillow.Sheneedstogo.
Laceyblinksupatme.Finally,shetugsherdressoverherhead,redsilkdrapingperfectlyoverhernarrowhips.Fuck,she’shot.Imaynotrememberhernamewhenshewalksoutthisdoor,butIwillrememberthat.
“CanIgiveyoumynumber?Thatwayyoucancallnexttimeyou’reintown,orifyouchangeyourmindandwantmetofly—”
“Sure,”Iclipout,cuttingheroff,becausepleasedon’tfinishthatsentence.Igesturetothepadofhotelpaperandpensittingonthebedsidetable,becauseI’msureasshitnotlettinghertouchmyphone.ThelastthingIneedisastagefiveclingermessagingmeormynumberfloatingaroundtheinternet.Idon’tgiveitouttogirls,ever.“Writeitdown.”
Emmett’seyeswiden,thecornerofhismouthcurvingwithasmirkashemovespastme,headingintothebathroom.
LaceyfollowsmetothedoorandIheaveitopen.Shepausesthere,lookingupatmelikealostpuppy.Shecanpoutallshewants;I’mnotfuckingtakingherhomewithme.
“Well,thanks…fortonight.HopefullyI’llseeyouagain.”
“Hopefully.”Unlikely.
HersmileissobrightIalmostfeelbad.ButthensheleansintokissmeonthelipsandIturnmyheadatthelastmoment.Shegetsmyjaw.
“Bye,Lauren.”Iflipthelockwhenthedoorslams.
“Lacey!”shescreamsoutfromthehallway.
Emmettstrollsin,shakingwithlaughter.“You’resuchanasshole,Carter.”
IfollowhimtothecouchwhilehequeuesuptheXbox,sinkingdownontheoppositeendasIadjustmyjunk.“Theydon’tgetit.I’mnotlookingforarelationship.”Isnagthehalf-emptyboxofOreosoffthecoffeetableandtwistoneapart,lickingattheicing.“Whydoeseverygirlthinkthey’regonnafindaboyfriendthroughaone-nightstand?”
“Soyou’reshittingontheirhopesanddreamsatahappylifewithamanwholovesthem?”
Hopesanddreams?Whatthefuck?“Cara’sturningyouintoamarshmallow.Theycanhopeanddreamalltheywant,justnotwithme.”
“Becauseyou’llneversettledown?”
Iliftashoulderandletitfall.“Idonno.Maybe,maybenot.Notanytimesoon.”
Hechuckles,shakinghisheadashetossesacontrollerintomylap.“Oneday,somegirlisgonnawalkintoyourlifeandflipyourwholeworldupsidedownandyou’renotgonnaknowwhatthefucktodowithyourselfexceptdroptoyourkneesandbeghertoneverleave.”
MyheadbobsasIthrowanothercookieinmymouth.“Andthat’llbethedayIsettledown.”CHAPTER2BED>SEXCARTER
Thedownfalltointernationalwintertravelis100percentthebrutalshocktoyoursystemwhenyoureturnhometoBritishColumbiainthemiddleofDecemberaftercoastingthroughFloridaandNorthCarolinaforacoupleofdays.
We’reborderingontheedgeofadeepfreeze,straddlingthat0degreesFahrenheitline.Despitethefactthatit’shighlyunusualforthewestcoast,it’salsotechnicallynotevenwinteryet.IliveinNorthVancouverwhereittendstobejustslightlymorereminiscentofatypicalCanadianwinter,butnothinglikethis.Itfeelskindalikeabadomen,butItypicallychoosetoignoreobvioussigns.
Still,it’scoldasfuckingballs,I’mrecoveringfromahangover,Ispentfive-and-a-halfhoursonaplanetodayplayingeuchrewithmyteammates,andIlosteverygoddamngameexceptone.Today’soneofthoserareSaturdayswherehockeydoesn’texistforourteam,andinsteadofspendingitathomeinmysweatswhileIdeepdiveintoaDisneymarathonandanXLpizza,I’mwalkingthroughablusterynight,headingtoafuckingsurprisebirthdayparty.
“I’mfuckingpooched,man.”Igroan,stuffingmyhandsalittlefartherintothepocketsofmywoolcoatasIstrolldownthesidewalk,usingmyteethtotugmyscarfuptomychin.
“Fuckin’same,”GarrettAndersen,myright-wingerdrawls,eastcoasttwangslippinginlikeitdoeswhenhe’stiredordrunk.Rightnow,it’stheformer.“Nearlybailedbutthoughtbetterofit.”Hegrabsathiscrotch.“Ilikemyballsrightwheretheyare,thankyouverymuch.”
Hisworryisn’tlostonme.Thebirthdaygirlhasthreatenedtocastrateusonseveraloccasionsformuchtameroffenses.OnherbadsideisthelastplaceIwanttobeonCara’stwenty-fifthbirthday.She’sscaryenoughasitis,andnowwe’vemissedthatpartwhereyoujumpoutandyell“Surprise!”I’mbankingonheralreadybeingthreedrinksdeepbynowandhappyenoughwiththeglitterypinkgiftbaghangingoffmyforearmtoforgetshe’smadatus.
“Andweallknowyoudon’tmissachancetodipyourstick,”Garrettadds,tippinghisheadacrosstheroadtowardthebarwe’reheadingto.
Notnormally,butI’mfuckingtiredashell.I’vealreadydecidedonbailingearlytoheadhometosleepinthebedI’vemissedforthelastfournights,sanssomewherewarmtoburymydick.Theideaofsleepinginmyownbedistoogoodanideatopassup.Callmecrazy,butnosexisworthagoodnight’ssleepwhenyoureallyneedit.
“MaybeI’mgonnabeagoodboytonight,”istheresponseIgiveGarrett,thecornerofmymouthpullingupwhenherollshiseyes.“Icankeepitinmypantsforonenight.”
Hejogsaheadofme,crossingthestreetwhenagapappearsbetweentraffic.“Doubtit!”
“Oops,”ImurmurwhenIaccidentallyjammyelbowintohissideasIpushpasthim,reachingforthedoor.Withagrin,Iholditopen,gesturingforhimtogoonaheadofme.
ThebarlooksasIexpecteditto:afucktonpinkandashitloadpacked.Iusuallythriveonchaos,whichismaybewhymyspinestraightensattheboisterouslaughter,theloudmusic,butIjustwanttopostupinthecornerofthebarwithmyteammatesandsipacoldbeerortwo.
Inadditiontothepink,there’sawholelotofgoldandfloral.ThankfuckforCara’sbestfriend,becausewewerenearlyondécordutyuntilEmmetttoldusshehadithandled.Ihaven’tmether,butshe’sgottabeprettybravetowillinglytakeonpartydécorwhenthebirthdaygirlrunsherowneventplanningbusiness.DisappointingCaraisneversomethingIwanttoberesponsiblefor;seetheaforementionedcastrating.
“Gare-Bear!Carter!”
Immediatelyfollowingthescreech,abodyhurlsitselfintomyarms,knockingtheairstraightfrommylungsaslonglimbswraparoundme.
“Happybirthday,Care,”IsingsongasthetoastedbirthdaygirlslithersdownmybodybeforecrushingGarrettinahug.
Caraeyesthelittlepinkbaginmyhands,bouncingonhertoesinhersky-highheels.“Oooh,gimme-gimme!”
“Ah-ah,”Itsk,holdingthebagawayfromher.“Whereareyourmanners?”
Herblueeyesrollasshepopsahip.“Gimmemyfuckingpresent,please.”
Isnortalaugh,shovingitintohergreedyhands.“FromGare-BearandI.”
IhitGarrettwithawink,becausetheunimpressedfacehemakes,pulled-downbrows,anddeepfrowntellmewhatIalreadyknow:theonlypeoplewhogetawaywiththatnicknamearehislittlesistersandCara.
Carawastesnotimetearingthebagapart,ditchingthetissuepaperoverhershoulder.Openingthesmallvelvetboxinside,shesqueals.Shepullsouttheplatinumchain,thediamond-encrustedletterChangingfromit,andshakesitinmyface.“Putiton,putiton!”
Iwatchhertwirl,sweepinghersilkywaist-lengthgoldenlocksoffherbackandoverhershoulder.Mybrowsinchupmyforeheadasmyeyesfollowthecurveofherspinedowntoherroundass.Backlessdress.Nice.
Look,she’soneofmybestfriend’sgirls.I’dnever,evertouchher,butI’mamanwithtwoeyesonmyface.Icanappreciateagood-lookingwomanwithoutadesiretoactonit.
Garrettlandsanelbowinmyribcage,makingmekeeloverwithanoof.HesnatchesthenecklacefromCara’soutstretchedhand,fasteningitaroundherneck.
She’sstillsquealing,handsclaspedtogetherasshebouncesforwardwithapeckonthecheekforbothofus.Hookingherarmsthroughours,sheguidesusintothebar.
“Youguysaregonnahavethebesttime,Ijustknowit.Myfriendsareamazeballs,’speciallymybestie.Ican’twaitforyoutomeether!”ShelevelsmewithalookthattellsmetocuttheshitbeforeI’veevenstarted.“Ineedyoutobeonyourbestbehaviortonight.”
Ithrowmyhandsintheair.“Whatthefuckdoesthatmean?”
“Youknowwhatitmeans.Don’ttryanyfunnybusinesswithLiv.”
“Who’sLiv?”
Shescoffs.“Olivia!Mybestfriend!”
“Ohhh,right,right.Her.”I’vesomehowmanagedtoavoidmeetingherforayear,whichisprobablyforthebestanddefinitelyatthehandsofEmmett.He’smentionedsomethingalongthelinesofmefuckingheronceandbreakingherheart,whichsomehowultimatelywindsupwithCaradumpinghimanditbeingallmyfault.SoIguessI’mnotallowedtotouchherorwhatever.
It’sfinebyme,atleastfortonight.I’vegotahandfulofmessagerequestsinmyInstagraminboxfromLaceyremindingmeexactlywhyIshouldtakeaweekortwoofffromwomen.Hardtoforgethernamewhenshesendsthirteengoddamnmessagesinasinglehour,theexactamountoftimesshementionedbeingonthecoverofMaxim.Coincidence?Ithinkthefucknot.
ThemoreIthinkaboutit,themoreexhaustedIamwiththeideaofentertainingsomeoneelsetonight.Itonlyfurthercementstheideaofgoingthefuckhomeandpassingthefuckoutface-firstinapackageofOreos.
Caraleavesuswiththepromiseofcatchinguplater,dancingacrossthefloortowardagroupofgirls,andGarrettandIfindtherestofourunrulyteammateshuddledinthecorner.Bythelooksofit,they’reatleasthalfwayinthebagalready,drinkssloshingoverthefloorastheyslamtheirglassesaround,howlingwithlaughter.There’snothinglikeaSaturdayoffformyboys.
“Howdidyoutwomanagetomissthesurprise?”AdamLockwood,ourgoalie,clapsmyhandbeforetippinghisbeertohislips.“Luckybastards.”
Icatchthebartender’seyeandmouthMillStreet.Withanod,hestartsfillingapintglass.“Gotstuckatmymom’s,”Iexplain,peelingoffmycoat.“Notsurethat’sanybetter.”
Imadethemistakeofstoppingoffatmymom’simmediatelyafterlanding.She’soneofthosepeoplethatsuddenlyrememberseverythingsheforgottotellmewhenit’stimeformetoleave,anditcanneverwaituntilanext-dayphonecall.Sheneverstopstalking.ItwassevenwhenIfinallyleft,andIstillhadtogohomeandshower.
“Eh,Woody.”InudgeAdam’sarm.“Where’syourgirl?”Iswipemybeeroffthebartop,noticinghe’smissingtheredheadwho’snormallyhangingoffhisarm.Exceptshehasn’tbeendoingthatsomuchlately.Can’trememberthelasttimeI’veseenher,cometothinkofit.
Herunsahandthroughhisdarkcurlsandclearshisthroat.“Ah,Courthadotherplans.Cara’sbeingagoodsport,butIcantellshe’snottoohappy.”
Idon’thavetimetocommentonhisgirlfriendbeingano-showagain,andtoaneventthat’sbeenintheworksforatleasttwomonths,becauseaheavyhandclapsmyshoulder,andmybeersloshesoverthesideofmyglass.
Iknowit’sEmmettthemomenthewrapsmeinoneofhissuffocatingbearhugs.AndIknowhe’sdrunkthemomenthisslurredwords,hotandsmellingstronglyofbourbon,fanacrossmycheek.“You’relate.”
“Sorry,dude.”Igivehishairaquickruffle,mostlybecauseit’sfuntorileupsuchabig,burlyguy.“Littledrunk,bigguy?”
Heslapsmyhandaway,turninghisattentiontotheparty.“DidCaraalreadytellyouyou’renotallowedtosleepwithanyofherfriends?”
Agroanrumblesinmychestasmyheadrollsbackward.“Yes,”Imoan.Mygazeroamstheexpansivebar,throughtheseaofpeoplemovingtogetheronthedancefloor.“It’samootpoint.I’mnotfeelingit…uh,I’mnot…”Thewordsdieonthetipofmytongueasashotofdesiredipsdownmystomachwhenmyeyessettleonher.“Uh,not,um…tonight.”ThepadsofmyfingersliftfrommyglassasIgesturehaphazardlywithit.“Thething.”
“Pardon?”
IlooktoEmmett,thenbacktoher.Iforgetwhatwe’retalkingabout,butnothingcanbeasimportantasthepetite,drop-deadgorgeousbrunettedancingwithCara.
IfI’mbeinghonest,dancingisentirelytoolooseofadefinitiontodescribethewaythosetwoaremovingtogether.Idon’tknowwhattocallitbut,fuckme.
Carawrapsoneprotectivearmaroundhertinyfriend,tugginghercloser,andmyjawsureasfuckunhingesasIwatchthetwoofthemmovetogether.
Myeyesfolloweverylineofherbody,everysinglemovement,asthestunninglittlethingtossesherdarkhairoverhershoulderanddragshertongueoverhertoplip.Shethrowsherarmsupintheair,headtippingtothesidetohearwhateverCara’swhisperinginherear.Iwatchwithraptattentionasherheadlollsbackward,herfaceeruptingwithlaughter.
I’mentranced,fixated,obsessed.Ican’tlookaway,andwhenCara’shandsgripherfriend’swaist,slippinginslowmotiondowntoherhips,Ifightagroan,’causeIkindathinkIwannadothat.
“Don’teventhinkaboutit,Carter.”
ImanagetodragmygazeawaytoeyeEmmett.“What?”
“Isaid,don’tevenfuckingthinkaboutit.”Hisheadwags.“No.Nother.”
Nother?Herwho?Whoisshe?MyeyesfindheragainasamanIdon’trecognizetugsherintohischest.
Boyfriend?Fuck.
AtriumphantnoisevibratesinthebackofmythroatasIwatchhergivehimasheepishgrin,shakingherhead,hermouthtellinghimNothankyoubeforeshedropshishand,turningherbackonhim,andme.
Andsweet,holyhell,thatbackside.Creamyshouldersguidingthewaydownamilkyspinebeneaththestrobeofthelightsabove.Thedipofherwaistsoftensintothesweetcurveofherwidehips.Herblackleatherskirtispaintedonsotight,huggingeveryedgeofher,IhavetowonderhowthefuckshegotitonandhowthehellI’llpeelitoffherlater.
Scissors,Idecide.I’llcutitoffherandthenthrowherabillforanewone.
Garrettreachesforward,touchinghisfingerstomychin,closingmymouth.“Christ,Beckett.Yougood?”
Iflailahandoutinherdirection,allloopy.“Dude.”That’sallI’vegot.Aren’ttheyseeingthis?
Garrettfollowsmygazeandhumsappreciatively,butEmmettruinsitwithaneyerollthat’s,somehow,audible.
“I’mserious,Carter.Carawillfeedyouyourballsifyoutouchher.”
“IcanhandleCara.”
Emmettsnorts,Garrettchuckles,andAdamhammersafistintohischestashechokesoutacough.NobodycanhandleCara.NotevenEmmett.Caracan’tevenhandleCarahalfthetime.
Clearingmythroat,Ibringtherimofmyglasstomylips.“What’shername?”
Emmett’sstillshakinghisheadlikeajackass.“No.Nottellingyou.”
Iwatchassheswipesherhairfromherdampforehead,sweepingherloose,darkcurlsoverhershoulder.ShetugsonCara’sshoulderandpressesuponhertoestowhisperinherearbeforesheturnsaway,strollingacrossthefloor,hipsbouncingbackandforthbeforeshehoistsherselfuponabarstool—withgreateffort—andgrinsupatthebartender.Whenheslidesabeerovertoherwithawink,sheblushes,avertinghereyes.Cute.
I’moddlycaptivatedbythewaysheslingsonelegovertheotherandliftsherglasstohermouth,drainingnearlyhalfofitinonelongpulllikeit’sherdayjob,andIstandalittletallerwhenshestartsscanningtheroom.Sheskimsoverme,thenpastme.
Thenbouncesbacktome.
CrimsonheatcreepsupherneckandpaintshercheekswhensherealizesI’mwatchingher,soIflashhermysignaturecrookedgrin,pullingmydimplesallthewayin,andlaughwhenherheadwhipsaround.SheglueshergazetotheTVscreenoverheadandpromptlybeginstopretendlikeshehasn’tseenme.
“I’llfindoutmyself.”Iclapmyfriendonthebackandwinkatmyteammates.“Excuseme,boys.”
“Right.Goodluck,Beckett.”Emmettdrownshisexasperatedlaughinhisdrink.“Iguaranteeshewon’tbuywhatyou’reselling.You’llneverlandher.”
Neverlandher?Unlikely.I’mthecaptainofourhockeyteamandoneofthehighestpaidplayersinallofNHLhistory.Ican’tgotothegrocerystorewithoutgettingaphonenumberoraproposition,whichiswhyIuseagrocerydeliveryservicenow.
Ilayapalmonmychest,walkingbackwardwithagrin.“YouknowhowIfeelaboutchallenges.”
Idon’tmakeouthissentenceasIturnmybackonhim,justthewordsfuneralandballsinasoup,whicharedefinitelyscary.
Butnotscaryenoughtodeterme.CHAPTER3FIRSTTIMESSUCKCARTER
There’sanawfullotofheatrollingoffherbodywhenIsidleupnexttoher,andI’mcreditingtheblushshe’sstillwearing,theonlytelltalesignshe’sawareofhowcloseinproximityIamtoher
Shecan’tnotknow,butshesureasshitdoesagoodjobofactinglikeshehasnoclueI’mstandinghere,pretendingtobeinterestedinthecommercialonTV.It’soneofthoseSPCAadswithSarahMcLachlanandafucktonofcutepuppies,andshelookslikeit’skillinghertokeepwatching.Onelookatthetinythinghasmepinningherasthetypethatcrieswhenshewatchesthis.Iknowbecausemymomandsistercryeverytime.Lastyear,mysisterstolemycreditcardanddonatedfifteenhundredbucks.
Withahum,Isinkdowntothestoolbesideher,andwhenIspreadmylegs,mythighbrusheshers.Shetrieslikehellnottoletit,buthergazeslowlyfallstotheconnection,andIthinkit’sincredibleshecanblushmorethanshealreadyis.IwatchthatrubyredheatspreadthroughouthercheeksasshefocusesbackontheTV.
Idon’tknowwhatgameshe’splaying,butI’min.Icanstareatheralldamnday.
Idropmyelbowtothebarandmychintomyfist,intentonstudyinghergorgeousfacelongerthanI’veeverstudiedanything.
Long,thicklashesframeprettyeyes,warmandwide,likeacupofespresso.Afaintdustingoffrecklesspatteracrosshercheekbonesanddownhernose,justasdaintyastherestofher,andherbowedlips,paintedcherryredandturneddownaroundtheedges,showcasetheperfectscowl.It’sashame;they’dlookincrediblewrappedaroundmy—
“What?”
Mybrowsquirkatherbitingtone,thesharpslantofhereyesassheglaresatme.
Herlashesflutterashereyesfallshutforamoment,andshepushesaquietsighpastherlipslikesheneedsasecondtogetahandleonherself.
“I’msorry,”sheapologizesafteramoment,shiftinginherseat.“Ididn’tmeantoberude.IstheresomethingIcanhelpyouwith?”
Iliftmydrinktomylips.“Nope.”
Shetwistsinmydirection,shovingmykneesasidewithherown.“No?Youcameoverheretostareatme?”
“Prettymuch.”Itakeinthedeepplungeofherlacyblacktop,noticingherheavingchest.Christ,she’sincredible.ArroganceswellsinmychestwhenIfindhercheckingmeouttoo.“CanIbuyyouadrink?”
Shejoltsinherseat,toolostinherassessmentofme,butrecoversquicklywiththeslightshakeofherhead.Ithinkit’smoreforherself,notme.
“Nothanks.”Shebringsherbeertohermouthforanotherlongpull,tonguepeekingouttoflickoverthedropofamberliquidthatclingstohertoplipwhenshepullsaway.“Alreadygotone.”
“Onceyou’redone,then.”Which’llbeinapproximatelytensecondsthewayshe’sbeenpoundingthatthingback.
“Icanbuymyowndrinks,”shesnapsbeforetackingonaquiet,“butthankyou,”asifthaterasesthestingofhertone.Herfingersdrumatthewoodasshekeepsonsipping,eyesfloatingaroundthebarlikeImightdisappearifshedoesn’tlookatme,andI’mnotsurewhy,butIsmile.
“Iwasn’tinsinuatingthatyoucouldn’t.IsimplymeantI’dliketobuyyouoneandsitherenexttoyouwhileyoudrinkit.”
“Right,butyou’realreadydoingthat,”shepointsout,tippingherheadtothesideassheinspectsmewithsuchahealthydoseofsuspicionI’mreadytoadmittoacrimeIdidn’tevencommit.
Achuckleslipsoutofmythroat,alongwiththewordshit.ShemustnotknowwhoIam.“HowdoyouknowCara?”
“She’smybestfriend,”sherepliescoolly,likeshe’dratherbeanywhereelseinsteadofsittingheretalkingtome.
Ah,theelusivebestie.NowIknowwhyEmmetttoldmetostayaway.
Sheswivelsonherstool,scanningthebar,lookingforCara,I’dguess.Ifshe’snot,she’ssimplytryingtonotlookatme.Anywherebutatme,bythewayhereyesmoveovermyshoulder,aroundtheshapeofmybody.
“Really?Shamewehaven’tmetbeforenow,huh?Cara’sbeenkeepingyoualltoherself.”Iholduptwofingersforthebartender,thenpointatmynewfriend’sglass.“What’syourname?”I’mprettysureCaraalreadytoldme,butIdidn’tcarethen.Icarenow.
Shehuffsoutawaryexhaleashernewbeerappearsinfrontofher.Iknowshelikesbeer,soshemustreallynotwannagivemethetimeofday.Onlymakesmewantitmore.
“Youdidn’thavetodothat,”shemutters,“butthankyou.”
Iresisttheurgetolaugh,’causeIdon’tseeitwinningmeanybrowniepoints.Thisinternalbattleshe’sgotgoingon—stucksomewherebetweenbitingmyheadoffandbeingpolite—isentertainingtowatch.
AndI’mstillwaitingforhername,soIsitheresilently,sippingonmybeer,becauseI’mboundtosaysomethingstupidandfuckitupifIopenmymouthrightnow.I’vebeentoldIlackafilter,somethingmostordinarypeoplehave.ButI’mnotordinary;I’mCarterBeckett.
Anothersigh,likeshe’sresigningtothefactthatI’mnotgoingtogetupandwalkawaysimplybecauseshedoesn’trelenteasily.Ihatetotellherthis,butI’veneverwantedtostayputsobadly.
“Olivia.”Thenamedriftssoftlyacrossthespacebetweenus,andIhumquietlyasIrollitaroundinmyhead,tryingitouttherefirst.
“Nicetomeetyou,Olivia.Youcanthankmeforthatbeerlaterifyou’dlike.”Iwinkandspreadmylegsoutwide,gettingcomfy.
Herbrowneyesdrop,followingthemovement,andshesnortsalaugh.Idon’tthinkagirlhaseversnortedinfrontofme.It’soddly…endearing?
“I’dratherburymyentirefaceinamountainofsnowoutfront.”Anothersipbeforesheliftsherglassinacknowledgment.“I’mgoingtokeepmydrink,simplybecauseIknowbetterthantowastegoodbeer,andyou’regoingtoaccepttheverbalthanksIgaveyouaminuteago.”
Oooh,IthinkIlikeher.Playingwithfireisalwaysfun,andthemoreIplay,themoreIrealizeEmmettwas—dareIsayit—right.LookslikeImighthavemyworkcutoutformehere.I’mupforthechallenge.Fuckknowsit’sbeenalong-asstimesinceI’vehadtoworktogetanyoneintobed.I’dhatetoletallmytalentsgotowaste,andIcan’timaginesomeonemoreworthyoftheeffortthanthesaucybrunettewho’sstillscowlingatme.
“Youdon’tknowwhoIam,doyou?”
Olivia’sdarkeyesscanmyfaceovertherimofherglass.“Trustme,”shestartsslowly,ahintofamusementlacinghertoneassheleanstowardme,“Iknowexactlywhoyouare.”
“Andwho’sthat,sweetheart?”
“CarterBeckett.”I’mnotsureI’veeverheardthetwonamesspokensoplainly,andIdon’tknowwhethertopoutorlaughatthewayshetwistsawaytofocusherattentionbackontheTV,asifshedoesn’tgiveasingleshitwhoIam.“CaptainoftheVancouverVipers.Andyoucantakethat‘sweetheart’andstuffitupyourass.”
BeerslidesdownthewrongtubeandIcoughonce,slammingmyfistagainstmychest.Imaybechoking,butIseeitrightthereinthecornerofhermouth,thehintofasmile,andthatonlyspursmeon.
“Notahockeyfan,huh?”
“Loveit.Playedforfifteenyears.”
Mybrowsskyrocket.“Noshit.”Mythumbskatesacrossmyjawattheideaofmessingaroundwithagirlwhohasadecentgraspontheconceptofhockey,letaloneonewhoplayedthegame.“Houseleague?”
Shesnortsagain.It’sfuckingadorable.
“Allright.I’lltakethatasahellno.”Mygazeskimshercurves,thelengthofhertonedcalves,herstrappyblackheels.“You’reatinylittlething.Youmusthavegottenrockedoutthere.”
“Don’tyouworry,Mr.Beckett.Icanholdmyown.”
“Spentsometimeinthepenaltybox,didyou?”
“Almostasmuchtimeasyoudo,”shereplieswithahintofdelight,thosechocolateeyesgleamingwithmirthastheyflicktothesplitinmylipfromthefightIgotintoatlastnight’sgame.
Mygrincracksmyfaceintwo.Bullshitshe’snotatleastalittlebitinterestedinme.
Idrawcloser,hermagnetismirresistible.“Mycondo’srightdownthestreet.”
“Howveryconvenientforyou.”
“It’sonlyaten-minutewalk.”
Olivialiftsherbeertothosekissablelips.“Soclose.”
“IcangetusanUberifyouprefer.”
Shechokesoutalaugh,slappingahandoverhermouthinanattempttostoptheonslaughtofbeerrushingoutofit.I’mriveted,watchingasshedabsatthecornerofhermouthandwipesthebararoundher.Theamusementdancinginhereyeshasmefeelingprettyconfidentaboutthedirectionwe’reheadingtonight—rightdownthestreettomycondo
“Oh,Mr.Beckett.Youareasna?veasyouarepretty.”Shelaysherpalmonmychest,givingitapatronizingpat.“TheverylastplaceI’mgoingishomewithyou.”
“Why?”Myfacedipscloser,andInoticetheexactmomentherbreathcatchesinherthroat.Hertonguepeeksout,wettingherbottomlip,spurringonmynextwhisper.“Iwannafuckyousilly.Maybeputyouinthepenaltybox.”
Olivia’sfacebreakswithasnicker,andit’sascuteasthesnort.“Youcan’tseriouslytellmeyoupickupwomenwithlineslikethat?”
“No,ofcoursenot.”
“Thoughtso.”
Igrin.“Normallymynameandprettyfacearemorethanenough.”
Isnagaloosecurl,twistingthatlockofdarkbrown,thelittlebitofcaramelwindingthroughit,andtwirlitaroundmyfinger.She’sgotprettyhair.Andprettyeyes.Prettylips.Prettythighs.Prettytits.Fuck,she’sjustpretty
Withagentletug,Iurgeherforward,andsmileatthewayshecomes,likeshedoesn’trealizeshe’sgivingintothepull.
“Wecangetthereineightifyou’regameforapiggybackride.”Mygazedropstoherlegs,andIlickmylipswhenImeetherinnocent,widestare.“WrapthoseprettylittlelegsaroundmywaistbeforeIwrapthemaroundmyface.”
Heatrollsoffherbodyinwaves,herlipspartingonastaggeredinhale.Oliviapullsbackabruptly,puttingenoughdistancebetweenusthattheairaroundmecools.
Clearingherthroat,shepullsoutherphoneandstartsflippingaimlesslythroughInstagram,likeshe’sboredoutofherfuckingmind.“Whataterribleideathatsoundslike.”
“Ibegtodiffer.”
Hereyessparklewithmischiefasshemeetsmystare.“You’reright.Myfeetaresorefromallthisdancing.Thepiggybacksoundswonderful.”ShesmilesatthewayIchuckle,andthentacksoninamoresinceretone,“Idon’tdoone-nightstands,Carter.”
Well,shit.That’saboutallI’vegotspaceforinmyrepertoire.
Iskimmylowerlipwithmyteeth,eyeingthewayherfingersdrumherglass,thewayshepeeksatmeeveryfewsecondstoseeifI’mstillwatchingher,theflushthatcreepsintohercheekswhensherealizesIam.Herbodylanguage,thenervesthatmakeherfidgetundertheheatofmystare,itdoesn’tmatchhersnarkycomebacks,andsomehowitonlymakeshermoreintriguing.
“Allright,”Isay,beforeI’veevenreallyagreedtoitinmyhead.Fuckit,whythehellnot?Ifthere’sawomanI’deverwanttoseeagain,itmightbeOlivia.“Whystopatjustonenight?I’vegotafeelingyou’rethetypeofsongI’dplayonrepeat.”Imightevenconsiderwaivingmynosleepoverrule.WecangoalldaylongtomorrowbeforeIsendheronherway.Islapapalmtothewoodandjerkmyheadinthedirectionofthedoor.“Let’sgo,beautiful.”
Herjawunhinges.“You’rejoking.”
“I’lleventakeyouforbreakfastinthemorning.”IflashherwhatI’vebeentoldisaparticularlycharminggrin.
Shedropsherfacetoherpalm,mutteringsomethingthatsoundsalotlikecockyfuckingasshole.Thelookinhereyeswhenshedragsherhandawayhasmeunsureifshe’dliketolaughorhurtme.Itkindalookslikeamixofboth.
“Youseemtobemisunderstandingme.”Shedrainstheremainderofherbeerbeforehoppingoffherstool.Christ,she’ssmall.I’msittingandI’mstilltoweringoverher.Shestepsinrealclose,gettingrightupinmyface,thoughIhavetostaredownather.Shesmellsgood,likefreshlybakedbananabread.Isthatweird?AllIknowisIwanttotasteher.
“Ihaveabsolutelynodesire,”shestartsslowly,enunciatingeveryword,formybenefitI’dguess,“tobeanothernotchinyourbedpost.I’msurethiswholemessyhair,prettygreeneyes,crookedsmilebullshityou’vegotgoingonmeltsmanypanties,butnotmine.”
Myfingershaveamindoftheirown,wrappingaroundherhips,pullingherbetweenmylegs.IsmileasIdipmyhead,holdinghergaze.“Soyouadmitit.YouthinkI’mpretty.”
Oliviarollshereyes.“There’snotabitofmethat’ssurprisedthatthat’syourtakeaway.”Shegesturesoverhershoulder.“Youcanhaveanygirlyouwant.Gofindsomeoneelsetotakeforbreakfast.”
Well,thatwon’tdo.Thebreakfastofferwasexclusivetoher.
“ButIwantyou,”Iwhineplayfully,catchingherhandandlacingmyfingersthroughhers.It’ssoftandwarm,tiny,mineswallowinghersrightup,andshewatchesthepadofmythumbghostoverhercreamyskin.“Youlookandsmelloutrageouslydelicious,andyouhaveabraincellinyourheadwhenitcomestohockey.You’vetoldmetogofuckmyselfinatleastthreeroundaboutways,andIcan’trememberthelasttimeI’vebeenthisattractedtosomeone.”
Herhandrelaxesinmineasshestepsalittlebitcloser.Herpalmskimstheedgeofmythigh,fingertipsdancingupmyarmbeforeshebrushesherwarmtouchacrossmyjaw.Herfaceliftsatthesametimeminedrops,andthefireinhergazeholdsallthepromiseofonehellofanunforgettablenight.
Herbreathcoatsmylips,andwhenIrunmytongueacrossthem,IswearIcantasteher.
“Hasanyoneeverbeenabletotellyouno?”sheasksonawhisper.
Mychestpuffswithpride.“Never.”
Awidegrinbloomsonherface.“Well,Iguessthere’safirsttimeforeverything.”
MyforeheadcrumplesasIblinkdownather,herhandslippingfrommineasshestepsoutofreach.“What?”
“Enjoytherestofyournight,”shecallsoverhershoulderbeforeshesqueezesthroughthecrowd,disappearing.
Well,fuckmesideways.Idon’tlikethis.CHAPTER4GONNABEANOOLIVIA
Sundaysandhangoversaremadefortwothings:junkfoodandnaps.
AllIwantisagreasycheeseburgerthesizeofmyheadandasuper-sizedfry.Instead,I’msittinginaStarbucks,slurpingdownanicedlatteinthemiddleofDecemberlikeImightperishwithoutit,whileeatingoneofthoseridiculoushealthymacrosboxes,allbecauseMcDonald’sisn’tservinglunchforanotherfifteenminutes.
Mybestfriend,Cara,archesoneperfectlyshapedbrowinthedirectionofmydrink.“It’scoldasfuckballs,Liv.”
Ihumaroundmystrawandtuckmyhandsintothesleevesofmysweater.“Winteriscoming.”
“Winterishere,”shereplies,theGameofThronesreferencegoingwhereIthoughtitwould—clearoverherhead.“Andyou’redrinkingafuckingicedcoffee.”
“Icedlatte,”Icorrect,pickingatmycheeseandfruitproteinbox.Ipokethehard-boiledegg.Seriously,whatisthis?I’mnotintoit.ThisiswhatIeatMondaytoFriday,notSundaymorningafterdrinkinghalfmybodyweightinbeerthenightbefore.Sighing,Isnapthelidinplace.Igiveup.I’mmakingCaratakemethroughtheMcDonald’sdrive-thruonourwaybacktoherplace.
“Idon’tcarewhat’sinyourdrink,Ollie,justthatit’sfuckingfrozen.”
I’mateadrinker,decaffeinated.CarasaysI’mapsychopath,butcaffeinemakesmystomachhurtandgivesmethejitters.It’sborderlineterrifyingwhenIdrinkcoffee.Thismorningthough,Ineedit.I’msureI’mnotfunctioningallthatproperly.ButIalsohatehotcoffeesomyoptionswerelimitedwhenweorderedtenminutesago.ThebaristalookedatmelikeIhadfiveheadsandaskedmetorepeatmyorder.
“Myheadhurts.”Ipout,givingherthepuppydogeyes.
Cara’spoutrivalsmine.Shepushesthatbottomlipoutasfarasit’llgoandtiltsherblondehead.“Aw,muffin.Youpartiedtoohard.”
“Myfeetarekillingme.”I’minmajorneedofafootsoak,orarub.Infact,IhookonelegaroundCara’sankleandscrubmyselfupanddownherlongcalf.
Sheshakesmeoff.“I’mnotrubbingyourfeet.MaybeEmwillwhenwegetback.”
Imakeaface.“I’mnotaskingyourboyfriendtorubmyfeet.”
“Why?”Shepopsagrapeinhermouth.“He’sgotnicehands.Big.Strong.”Shepumpsherbrows.“Magic.”
“ThingsIdon’tneedtoknow.”Iflickmystrawwrapperather.
Carashiftsbackward,slingingonelegovertheother.Hereyesslantasshestudiesme.“Canwetalkabouttheelephantintheroom?”
Isipmydrink.MyGod,it’sspectacular.Imaynotsleepfordays.“Whatelephant?”
“Elephantmightbethewrongword.Howaboutsix-foot-fourwallofsexed-upmuscle,reminiscentofaMarvelsuperhero,oraGreciangod?”
Mygazeglidesoverthecafé.“Notseeingthateither.”
Shepokestheinsideofhercheekwithhertongue,thecornersofhermouthlifting.“CarterBeckettisthedamnelephant,Liv.”
“Ah.Thatelephant.”Icheckthepolishonmynails.“Wealreadytalkedabouthim.”Infact,Ijustmanagedtogethisirritating,narcissisticfaceoffmymind.
“Iwasthreemojitosandfivetequilashotsdeep.Idon’trememberasinglewordofthatconversation.”
Therewasn’tawholelotoftalking.ItwasmostlyCaraputtingmeinaheadlockandtowingmeasfarawayaspossiblefromCarterBeckett,captainoftheVancouverVipers,multimillionaire,andplayboyextraordinaire.Tohercredit,shedidattempttolayoutahandfulofreasonsIshouldabsolutelystayawayfromhim,butitwasdifficulttounderstandherthroughtheslurringandthehorsd’oeuvresshekeptshovinginhermoutheverytimeaserverwalkedby.
“Youtoldmetokeepmydistance,andItoldyouI’dalreadyputitbetweenus.”Therewasamoment,averybriefonewithmyhandinhis,hispiercingemeraldeyesholdingme,thatImighthave…consideredit.Maybe.Tobedetermined.Iblamethealcoholformistakesnearlymade.
CarterBeckettisthedefinitionofsexy.He’sarrogancedressedinexpensiveclothing,smooth,cordedmuscles,andacharmingsmile,andquitepossiblythefaceofchlamydia;Ican’tbecertain.I’msurehetakesprecautions,butthemangetsaroundlikeaglobe-trotter.
Carapropsherchinonherfist.“Ishould’veguessedhe’dlikeyou.”
“Likeme?Hedoesn’tlikeme.Hewantstosleepwithme.AndIcan’tfaultyoufornotguessinghe’dwantto.I’mliterallytheoppositeofeverywomanhe’severbeenpicturedwith.”
“Youarenot!”
“Amtoo.”
CaraplayswithherphonebeforeshowingmeaphotoofCarterandaleggybrunette,hisarmaroundherwaistwhileshesucksonhisneck.Bonuspointsforsomehowmanagingtowalkdownthestreetandavoidtumblingintotraffic.
“See?Youbothhavebrownhair!”
Irollmyeyes.“Andshe’sgotanentirefootonme,Care.And,oh,look!”Itaponthegirl’sattachedInstagrampageandlevelCarawithanunimpressedlook.“She’saDallasCowboyscheerleader.”
I’mnotabouttopulltheI’mdifferentcard,butthetruthisexactlythat:I’mnotanythinglikethewomenthismanisusuallypicturedwith.
IfwhatIseeinthemediaisanyindication,CarterpreferswomenwholooklikeCara:legsthatgostraighttoheaven,long,leantorsos,silkystraighthair.Infact,I’mconvincedtheonlyreasonthosetwoaren’tdatingisbecausethey’retoomuchalike—mouthy,ostentatious,andproud.Soundslikeagoodwaytodetonatearoom.
“Okay,whatever.”Sheswipesahandthroughtheair,dismissingme.“Soyou’repetite.”Shesnickersatmyunimpressedexpression.“Okay,pint-sized.Andokay,you’renotamodel.Butyou’reaphys-edteacher,sothat’skindathesame—”
“Itisnotremotelyclosetothesamething.”
“Butyou’reasgorgeousastheyare.”Thewayshesaysitisfairlyconvincing,butthenshe’salwaysbeenmybiggestcheerleader.
Ireachacrossthetable,boopinghernose.“Thanks,butyou’reboundbybestfriendrules.Youhavetosaythat.”AtiredsighleavesmylipsasIlookoutofthecoffeeshopandatallthepeople,shoppingbagshangingofftheirarms.
Caraloopsherarmthroughmineaswestrollbackthroughthemall.Idon’tknowwhyIletherconvincemetocomeshoppingthismorning.IshouldstopsleepingatherhouseafterI’vebeendrinking.ShepouncedonmebeforeIcouldevenremembermyname,letalonewheremybackboneislocated,andthat’showIwounduprighthere—shoppingatthemallonaSundaymorning,andworstofall,withoutmyhangoverMcDonald’s.
See:baddecisionsfueledbyalcohol
“I’mhungry,”Igrumble,pinningmyarmsacrossmychestasCara’sthumbsflyacrossherphonescreen.“Forrealfood.”
“Perfecttiming,babe.”Shetucksherphoneintoherpurseandstands.“Emmett’supandhe’sorderingpizzaforlunch.”
Somethinginsidemelightsuplikeaslotmachine.Itmightbemystomach.“Withbacon?”
“Extrabacon.”
***
Caraannouncesourarrivalhomethesamewaysheannouncesherarrivalanywhere:withflair
Shesweepsherarmsoutwidethemomentwestepinside,flingingallsixofhershoppingbagstothefloorasshetwirls.“We’rehome,babe!Livneedsherfeetrubbed!”
“Ireallydon’t,”Icallback,tryingtokickmybootsoff.IloveEmmettbutitwouldbealittleweirdtohavemybestfriend’sboyfriendgivemeafootmassage.Asitis,Ican’tmanagetogetmyfuckingsockonproperly.It’sdanglingoffmytoes,andI’mhoppingdownthehallwayononefoottowardthesmellofpepperoniandbacon,tryingtofixit.
Ihatesocks.Ihateboots.Ihatewinter.
Myfacelifts,noseintheairasIinhaleandrubmybellywithmyfreehand.“Smellssogood,Em.Cometomama.”
Imanagetohookafingerinmysock,pullingitovermyheelwithana-ha,butmylandingisallwrong,softwoolonslippery,shinymarbleturningouttobeaterrible,awfulideaasIgotumblingbackwardwithafewchoicecursewords,armsflailinginsearchofanythingwithinreach.
Whichhappenstobeastrongpairofarms.Extramuscly.Corded.Oooh,theseforearmsarefineashell.Theywraparoundmywaist,catchingmebeforemyasscanhittheground,andwarmthspreadsoutwardfrommybellyastheyrightmeonmyfeet.Istaredownattheexceptionallylargehandcoveringmytorso,keepingmesturdy,andashiverofanticipationdancesdownmyspineatthewordswhisperedagainstmyear.
“Hi,mama.”
Myhandslidesslowlydownhisforearm,notingthestarkcontrastwheremyfingerscurlaround.WhereI’mmilkyandsoft,he’sexceptionallygoldenandfirm.
Hotbreathrollsdownmyneck,andIclosemyeyesasanenticingaromaswirlsaroundme,hintsofcitrusmixedwiththeoutdoors,likelimeandmuskycedarwood.
Iknowexactlywhosearmswindaroundme,whosehandsholdmeclose,whoselipslingerbymyjaw.Iknowallthat,butitdoesn’tstopmefromwhatIdonext.
Withmybodystilllockedinhisarms,myheadswivelsinslowmotion.Superslow.Exorciststyle,even.I’mnotsuremyjawhaseverdangledsolow.IcouldprobablyfitmywholefistinmymouthifIwereinclinedtotry.MybrotherdaredmetowhenIwasnine,andIdiditjusttoprovehimwrong.
WhenIspythosedeepgreeneyes,thatmessymopofchestnutwaves,thatinfuriating,sexy,lopsidedgrin,Idotheonlylogicalthing:Ishriek.
IshoveCarterBeckettoffmeandrocketsofastacrossthekitchenthatmylegssplit.Emmettdartsforward,hoistingmeupviaanarmaroundmywaistwhilehehowlswithlaughter,andmygroinhurtssobadlyIjustwanttosinktothefloorandcryinpeace—withmypizza,obviously.
“IwishI’drecordedthat,”Carawheezes,swipingatthetearsfreefallingdownhercheeks.“Carter,Ibetthat’sthefirsttimeyou’vesentagirlrunningforthehillslikethat.Holyfuck.”ShegesturesbetweenmeandCarterwithasliceofpizza.“Thatwasthefuckingbest.”
MyskincrawlsasItakeaplateandgoaboutmybusiness,trying—andmiserablyfailing—topretendCarterBeckettisn’thangingovermyshoulder,watchingmechoosemyslice.
Theheatofhisbodysinksagainstmineashehoversaboveme,hispalmonthecounternexttome,bracketingmein.“Yougonnahurryupandpick,shorty?Bigman’shungry.”
“I’mdeterminingwhichsliceisthemostbacon-y.Don’trushme,bigman.”
Amusementgleamsinhiseyes.Hisfacedips,breathtouchingtheexposedskinwheremyshouldermeetsmyneckashemurmurs,“Iwouldn’tdreamofrushingyou.AllIwannadoistakemytimewithyou,Olivia.”
“OhforGod’ssake.”ItwisttowardCaraandEmmett,proppingafistonmyhip.“Whichoneofyouneglectedtotellmehewascomingforlunch?”
Carathrowsherhandsup.“Ihadnoidea.”
Emmettguffaws.“Likefuckyoudidn’t.Itextedy—”HiswordsdiebehindthepalmCaraslapsoverhismouth.
Thewomanisasuckerfordrama,andIcanassumethat’stheonlyreasonshe’swillinglyputmeandCarterinaroomtogetheragain.Thatorshejustreallywantstoseemeknockhimdownapegortwo.Givethepeoplewhattheywant,Iguess.
Carter’swatchingme,waitingformetoreact,soItakethebiggestbiteIcanmusterwhilestaringhimdeadintheeyebeforeIstrutbyhimandsinkdowntothecouch.Asluckwouldhaveit,heflopsdownbesidemeawholefifteensecondslater,flashingmeagrin.
Hisdeepdimplesareabsolutelyadorable.Ifuckinghatethem.
Henudgesmyshoulderwithhisown.“Igotmorebacon.”
“Youdidnot.”Ileanintohim,examininghisplace.Imean,justincase,right?“Damnit,”ImutterwhenIseeit.
Hechucklesquietly,placinghissliceonmyplate,replacingitwithoneofmylessbacon-yones.It’sasweetgesture,whichiswhyI’msuspicious.Heboughtmeabeerlastnight,anditsoundedawholelotlikehewashopingthatwouldequatetomymouthononeofhisbodypartslater.
“It’sjustapieceofpizza,Olivia.Ifyouwant,I’lleatit.”
Itugmysliceintomychest.“Backoff,Beckett.”
Caratossesacontainerofdippingsauceonmyplateasshestrollsby.Idumptheentirecontentsontopofmytwoslices.Carterwatcheseverysecondofit,thesideofmyfaceheatingunderhisstare.
“CanIhelpyou?”Ifinallyask.
Asmallsmiletipsonesideofhismouth.“Nah.I’mgood.”
Hefinishesfourslicesofpizza,walksbacktothekitchen,grabstwomore,andfinishesbothbeforeIfinishmytwo.
“You’reasloweater,”heremarks,leaningforwardanddroppinghisplateonthecoffeetable.Itrynottonoticethewaythemusclesinhisbroadbackrippleunderhisshirt,butdamnit,Inotice.
I’mabouttotellhimI’mnotasloweater,he’sjustagarbagedisposal,butthewordsgetlostinmythroatwhenheliftsmyfeetintohislapandpullsmysocksoff.Histhumbsdigintomyarch,andI’meternallygratefulCaraandIspentyesterdaymorningatthespa.
Cartertapsthecrimsonpolishonmytoes.“Pretty.”
“Whatareyoudoing?”Ifinallyask,thenmoanwhenhedigsawayataparticularlysorespot.
Carter’sgazehoodsatthesound,andheworksthespotharder.“Carasaidyouneededafootrub.SoI’mgivingyouafootrub.”
ShouldmyresponsebeNothankyou?Probably.Buthere’sthething:he’sgotbighands,broadfingertips,apowerfultouch,andIdranktoomuchlastnight,whichmeansIsubsequentlydancedtoomuch.Andhefeelssodamngood.“JesusChrist,”Iaccidentallywhimper,foldingtowardhim.“Thankyou.”
“Don’tmentionit.Ifyou’reafanofrubs,wecangobacktomypl—”
“Andyouruinedit.”Iripmyfeetfromhismagicalhandsandcurlthemundermybutt.“Why’dyouhavetoruinsomethingsogood?”
Hisgazedipsdownme,thenbackup.“I’vebeendyingtoruinyou,andtrustme,it’dbesogood.”Atmystunnedexpression,Carterlaughs,catchingtheXboxcontrollerEmmettthrowsathim.“Youblushalot,Olivia.”
Carasnortsfromacrosstheroom.“I’msureit’sdifficultforyoutowrapyourheadaround,butshe’snotinterested,Carter.”
Heshrugs.“Doubtit,butokay.”
HeandEmmettsettleintoagameofNHL,becauseapparentlywhentheyaren’tactuallyplayinghockey,theyneedtodosovirtually.RegardlessofthelaserfocusCarterseemstohave,heneverletsupwiththechitchat.
“Doyoulikethesnow,shorty?”
“Notreally.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIhavetowearsocks.”
“Springorsummer?”
“Summer.”
“Sweetorsalty?”
“Sweet.”
“How’dyougethomelastnight?”
“Islepthere.”
Ahumvibratesinhisthroat,andIhaveanurgetofeelit.“IfI’dknownyousleptoverlastnight,Iwould’vecomebackhereratherthangoinghome.Wecould’vetalkedsomemore.”
Isheforreal?DoeshenotrememberthegirlhehadgluedtohissideahalfhourafterIwalkedawayfromhim?Hecan’thaveforgottenthesmirkhethrewmewithawinkandthetiltofhishead.Couldabeenyou,that’swhatthatlooksaid;I’msureofit.
“Yeah,well,youhadyourhandsfullwithaprettylittleblonde.”
Hisattentionleavesthegameforthefirsttimetofocusonme.“Notasprettyasyou.”
Isthatsupposedtobeacompliment?ThegirlIhookedupwithlastnightafteryouturnedmedowndidn’tquitestackuptoyou,butIfuckedheranyway?He’ssuchamanwhoreandI’mnotinterestedinbeinganotherpuckbunnyhefucksandchucks,soIrollmyeyesinrevulsion.
“Shedidn’tcomehomewithme,Olivia.”
Isnortindisbelief.Andalso,Idon’tgiveashit.“Doubtit,butwhatever.”
“Yousoundjealous.”
“Trustme,I’mnot.”
“Couldn’tbringmyselftodoit,notwhenIwaslookingatyouallnight.”HescoresagoalandmuttersoutafuckyesunderhisbreathwhileEmmettprattlesoffastringofcursesbeforedeclaringheneedsmorepizza.
“Don’tcare.”
Cartersetshiscontrollerinhislapandtwists,hisexpressionunreadable,vacantalmostashewatchesme.Idon’tlikeit.Itmakesmyshoulderscurl,makesmewanttohide.IfIcan’treadhim,Idon’twanthimtoreadme.
“Ithinkyoudo,”hefinallyrepliesonagruffwhisper.
Hisfingersskimtheedgeofmythigh,overtherippedslitatmyknee,histouchglidingsogentlyacrossmyskinI’mnotcertainhe’sactuallytouchingme.Foramoment,Irevelinthefeelofhiswarm,callusedhands.Foramoment,Iwantmore.
Foramoment.AndthenIusemybrain.
WhatthehellamIdoinghere?WhyamIentertainingthisegotisticaljackass?Icouldbeathome,bralessandtakinganap.
“Igottaheadout,”Icallovermyshoulder.“Thanksforlunch.”
“What?Already?”Inthereflectionofthepatiodoor,CarapointsanangryfingeratCarter.
“GottagotoJeremy’s.”It’sahalflie.IhavehoursbeforeIneedtobeanywhere.
IkissCara’scheekandhugEmmett,avoidingCarter.It’spointless,becausehestandsandfollowsmedownthehallway,watchingmetugonmyknee-highboots.
“Who’sJeremy?Isthatyourboyfriend?”
Ihesitate.Thenlie.“Yes.”
“Yougoin’toyourbrother’s?”Emmettshoutsdownthehall.“TellJerI’llbeonlineattentonightifhewantstoplay!”
Ah,crap.Emmett.Comeon,pal.
ThegrinIofferuptoCarterisnothingshortofguiltyandteeth-gritting
Hecrosseshisarmsoverhisbroadchestandarchesadarkbrow.“Youdirtylittleliar.”
Yeah,well,them’sthebreaks.IliftaninnocentshoulderandletitfallasIslipmycoaton.Cartergrabsthelapelsandhaulsmeintohim.I’mmomentarilyterrifiedhe’sgoingtotrytokissme,andmoresothatIwon’tstophim,butinsteadheworksthebuttonsofmywoolpeacoat.
CarterBeckettisdoingupmycoat.
“CanIhaveyournumber?”
Iblinkupathim.“Uh…”Imeantosayno.I’mnotsurewhyit’snotcomingout.
Heseesmyhesitationasanopportunity,andthemanstartsprowlingtowardme,backingmeupwitheachofhisstepsforward.MybackhitsthefrontdoorandmypulsejumpsasCarter’schesttouchesmine.DearLord,hefeelsamazing.Warmandfirm,broadandstrong.Andtall.Shit,he’ssofreakingtall.Myvaginastartsdoingthislittledance,likeshethinksshe’sabouttogetsome.She’snot.
Hispalmskatesupmysideandmyheartthudsalittlebitfasterwhenheuntucksmyhairfrommycoatandlaysitovermyshoulder.
“Tellyouwhat,shorty.I’llgiveyoumynumber.Inevergiveitouttogirls.You’dbethefirst.”There’sanairabouthim,asmugnessshininginhiseyestellingmehethinksthisisit.Thiswillbewhatreelsmein.“Becauseyou’respecial,Olivia.”
Thereitis.Isthatreallythebesthe’sgot?Howthehelldoesthismangetsomanywomentoagreetosleepwithhim?
Layingmypalmoverhiscollarbone,Iapplygentlepressure,justenoughtoeasehimbackastep,andIfollowhimwithmyown.AtthesmileIgivehim—extrasyrupyandjustforhim—hisowngringrows,alldimplesandmegawatt.
He’sfeelingprettyconfidentrightnow.
Ican’twaittotearhimdown.
“Yeah…”IskimthetipofmyfingerovertheneckofhisT-shirt.MypalmcurvesoverthenapeofhisneckasIguidehisfacedowntomine.Hishandslandonmyhips,grippingmetightlyasmylipsgrazehisear,andIhatehowgoodhesmells.There’sanirrationalpartofmethatwantstolickhimlikeafreakingicecreamcone.“It’sgonnabeanofromme.”
IwatchthatsmugsmilemeltrightoffhishandsomefacebeforeitdisappearsbehindthedoorIslam.
Damn,thatfeltgoodCHAPTER5ISTHATMYFACE?OLIVIA
Inormallymanagemylackofheightwell.IkeepastoolinmyofficeatworkforwheneverIneedit,andIclimbameankitchencountertopathometoreachthehighthingsIdon’tuseallthatfrequently.Theproblemisafteralltheseyears,Istillforgetsometimes.I’vepulledcountlessmusclestryingtocrawlupwallstowardshelves,standingontiptoesandreachingjustalittlebithigher,attemptingtoturnintoSpider-Manandscalethevolleyballnettodisassembleit.
Todayisoneofthosedayswhereit’smeversusthevolleyballnet.ThenoisesI’mmakingareentirelyunholy,borderingontheedgeofsoundsIreserveforwhenI’maloneinmybedroomwithmyvibratingpocketboyfriend,andIkeepglancingovermyshouldertowardmyofficeatoneendofthegym.Icanseethedamnstepstoolrightthere,holdingthefreakingdooropensoIwouldn’tforgetit.
IguessIgotalittlewrappedupinknowingtodayisthelastdayofschoolbeforeChristmasbreak,andI’mabouttohavetwoweeksoffwithverylittlereasontowearabra.
“MissParkerrr.”Amusementdripsfrommyname,thewayit’ssung,andI’munsurprisedthat—again—oneofmyseniorboyshasstuckaroundtoteaseme.“Wannacometoapartythisweekend?”
Ibarelysparethesandyblondleaninginthedoorwayoftheboy’schangeroomaglance.“Stopinvitingmetoyourparties,Brad.I’myourteacher.”
“Yeah,thebestteacher.”Bradsauntersmywaywiththeswaggerofamanwithalltheconfidenceintheworld.It’soddlyreminiscentofCarterBeckett,andIshuddertothinktheremightbeanotherinthefutureasarrogantashim.Wheredopeoplefindallthisconfidence?“I’dlovetopartywithyou.Sowouldtherestofthem.”Heinclineshisheadtowardthechangeroomandlickshislips.Idon’tknowifit’sintentionalornot.Probably,becausetheseboysareballsylittlepiglets.
I’vegotastrangeurgetokneehimwhereithurts,butIresist,focusingonthetaskahead:tryingtogetthestupidstringoutofthestupidloopsoIcanputthisstupidvolleyballnetawayandnotthinkofituntilnextyear.Brad’sbehindmeamomentlater,hischestbrushingagainstmybackwhileItrynottochokeonhiscologne.Onespritzisfine;sevenbringsmebacktotheSpringFlingineighthgradewhereIhadmyfirstkiss.Itwasintoxicating,andnotbecausethekisswasgreat,butbecauseheworesomuchcheapcologneIfeltwoozy.
Bradputsmeoutofmymisery,pullingthetopstring,andIwatchonesideofthenetfloattotheground.
“Thanks,”Imutter,foldingthelengthofthenetintosmallsectionsasImoveacrossthewidthofthegym.Hestrollspastmeandleansagainstthepolethat’sstillattachedtotheremainderofthenet.“Takeitdown,Brad,please.”
“Aren’tyouatleastgonnatryfirst?”
“No,I’mnot,becausethatwouldbepointless,wouldn’tit?”MyarmspinacrossmychestasIpopahip.I’mabitofanAttitude-yJudy,which,admittedly,makesmeagoodfitfortheroleofahighschoolphys-edteacher.Myteenscanhandlemysass,andIcanhandletheirs.“Takeitdown.”
Bradgrinsandpullsthenetdown.“Geez.Testy.”
Hefollowsmetothestorageroom,proppinghimselfupbesidethegarage-styledoorwhileIpackthenetaway.
“Youknow,mybirthday’sJanuarythird.WhenwegetbackfromChristmasvacation,I’llbeeighteen.”
AndI’llstillbetwenty-five,histeacher,andsuperuninterested.“Goodforyou.Happyearlybirthday.”Islamthedoordown,slidethelockinplace,andstalkofftowardmyoffice,tossinga,“MerryChristmas,Brad,”overmyshoulder.
ButBraddoesn’ttakethehint.Herarelydoes.That’swhyheletsoutadeepbellygroanashefollowsbehindmelikealostlittlepuppy.“Willyoueverstopplayinghardtoget?”
“Areyoumystudent?”
“Yes.”
“Thenno.”
“Fine,”hecallsfromthedoorway.“Butinsix-and-a-halfmonthsIwon’tbeyourstudentanymore!”
“Eventhen,Brad,”Iwhisper,moretomyselfthananything,becauseI’mhopinghe’sdisappearedbynow.Butaquickglanceupshowsmehehasn’t.Rather,hisblueeyesblazewithzealastheydipdownmybody.Iplantmyhandsonmyhips.“Areyouforrealrightnow?GetoutofhereandcomebackinJanuarywithoutthiswholeflirting-with-my-gym-teachercrap.It’sannoying,uncomfortable,andhighlyinappropriate.”
Hisgrintellsmehehasnointentionofchanginghiswaysorgrowingupoverthebreak.“Bye,MissParkerrr,”hesingsongs,disappearingaroundthecornerwithagroupofhisfriends.
Teenageboys.Alwaysthinkingwiththeheadintheirpants,ratherthantheoneontopoftheirshoulders.Thentheygrowuptobemenwhostilldotheexactsamefuckingthing.
Istuffmylaptopintomybag,tuckmyselfintomycoat,andpulloutmyphonebeforeIlockmydoorandwalkoutofthegymandintothehallway.
Iflipthroughmytextmessages.They’rerelativelyunimportant,astheyusuallyare.Onefrommymom,wishingmeahappylastdayofschool.Anotherfrommybrother,beggingmetomakehisfther,hisblueeyesblazewithzealastheydipdownmybody.Iplantmyhandsonmyhips.“Areyouforrealrightnow?GetoutofhereandcomebackinJanuarywithoutthiswholeflirting-with-my-gym-teachercrap.It’sannoying,uncomfortable,andhighlyinappropriate.”
Hisgrintellsmehehasnointentionofchanginghiswaysorgrowingupoverthebreak.“Bye,MissParkerrr,”hesingsongs,disappearingaroundthecornerwithagroupofhisfriends.
Teenageboys.Alwaysthinkingwiththeheadintheirpants,ratherthantheoneontopoftheirshoulders.Thentheygrowuptobemenwhostilldotheexactsamefuckingthing.
Istuffmylaptopintomybag,tuckmyselfintomycoat,andpulloutmyphonebeforeIlockmydoorandwalkoutofthegymandintothehallway.
Iflipthroughmytextmessages.They’rerelativelyunimportant,astheyusuallyare.Onefrommymom,wishingmeahappylastdayofschool.Anotherfrommybrother,beggingmetomakehisfavoriteblueberrypiefordessertonChristmas,aseriesofprayeremojistrailingthequestion.TheonefrommynieceAlannahisacraploadofsillyemojisandanIloveyou,AuntieOllie.She’sonlysevenbutGrandmaandGrandpaspoilhertohellandback—likelybecausetheygoseveralmonthswithoutseeingher—soshegotaniPadforherbirthdayandshetextsmeeverydaywithoutfail.Idon’tmind;thoseIloveyoutextsmakemyheartswell.
MygazesettlesonaseriesoftextmessagesfromCara,allofwhichstartexactlyatthetimeofthefinalschoolbell.Idon’tevenhavetimetoreadthembeforemyphonerings.
“Howdoyoudothat?”Iask,sandwichingmyphonebetweenmyearandmyshoulderasIdigmycarkeysoutofmybag.“HowdoyouknowthemomentIhavemyphoneinmyhand?”
“Callitatwinthing,”Cararepliessimply.
“We’renottwins.We’renotevenrelated.”
“We’resoulsisters,Liv,andyouknowit.”
Iclimbintomycar,turntheignition,andlistentotheenginestrugglebeforeitshutsitselfoff.“Fuckme,”Igroan,givingitanothergo.
“Youneedanewcar.”
“NoIdon’t.RedRhondaworksjustfine,don’tyou,girl?”Ipatthedash,sayaprayer,andcranktheignitiononcemore.TheengineroarstolifeandIsinkbackinmyseatwithasigh,waitingforthecartowarmup.
“YouaregonnarunoldRhondastraightintotheground.”Caralaughs.“Anyway,I’vegotanextratickettothegametonight.Wannacome?We’regoingoutfordrinksafter.”
Hockeygame?Drinks?
Tellmeit’sadangerousideawithouttellingmeit’sadangerousidea.I’llgofirst:I’llhavetospendtheentireeveningpretendinglikeIdon’tnoticeCarter,whichishard,captainoftheteamandallthat.He’sboundtohaveagirlortwohangingoffhimlaterandthat’llirritatemeeventhoughIalreadyknowhe’samanwhore.Plus,heprobablywon’tevenremembermyname,whichmightpissmeoffmore.Icanonlyholdoffonpunchingconceitedassholesinthethroatforsolong.
“I’mprettytired,”istheresponseIgiveCara.
Notreally,butIneverturndowntheopportunitytotakeoffmybra,throwonmygrubbiestsweats,andcurluponmycouchwithagoodsmutbookorfourhoursstraightofNetflix.
“Ah,c’mon,Ol,”shegroans.“Don’tyourememberhowmuchfunwehadlastweekend?You’reonvacation!Let’sparty!”
DoIrememberhowmuchfunIhad?Whichpart?GrindingalloverCarabecausebeingarespectablehumanfivedaysaweekisexhaustingandIdesperatelyneededtoletloose?OrCarterBecketttellingmehewantedtofuckmesillyandbuymebreakfast?Maybeitwasthetwo-hourpost-pizza-and-Carternap,followedbythreehoursofBrooklyn99rerunsafterIgothomefrommybrother’shouseSundaynight.
Iguessitwaskindafun.
“Livvie?Please,babe.Forme.”Thepoutshe’sdefinitelywearingisaudible.“I’llbeyourbestfriend.”
“Youalreadyaremybestfriend,”Ipointout,butwhenshewhimpersthroughthephone,Isigh.“You’reutterlyridiculous.”
“Andyou’resoftasfuck.Youshouldlearntosaynotomeeveryonceinawhile.”Hershrillsquealringsinmyearbeforesheprattlesoffdetailsfortonight,andthenpromptlyhangsuponmebeforeIcanchangemymind.
***
“Idon’tunderstandwhythefloorsarealreadysostickywhenthegamehasn’tevenstartedyet.”MynosescrunchesasIlistentomyChuckspeeloffthefloorwitheachstep.“Andespeciallyallthewaydownhere.”
Iscanthearenaaswemovedowntherowandtakeourseats.We’resittingdirectlybehindthebench—perksofdatingoneoftheassistantcaptains,Iguess—soit’snotasiffivehundredpeoplehavewalkeddowntherowbeforefindingtheirownseats.Whichbegsthequestion:Whyinthehellaremyshoesstickingtoeverything?
“Thefloorsarealwaysdisgusting.”Carapopsthetopoffakingcanofbeer,depositingitintomywaitinghands.“That’swhyIdon’tbotherwithheelsanymore.”
“Thatmusthavebeensuchatoughdecisionforyoutomake,whatwithheelsbeingsuchappropriateattireforhockeygames.”
SheflicksmeinthetempleandIsnicker,stealingahandfulofpopcornfromthegiantred-and-whitestripedbucketinherlap.
“CarterwasaskingEmaboutyouthisweek.”Shesaysthesentencesocasually,asifit’stotallynormalforarguablythehottestguyintheNHLtoaskaboutyou.
Ihammerafistagainstmychestasapopcornkernellodgesitselfinmythroat.“Pardon?”
“Carter,”sherepeats,tearingopenabagofSkittles.Shedumpsatleastathirdofitintohermouthandgesturesattheicewiththeflickofherwrist.“Beckett.”
Ifollowhergaze,watchingastheViperstaketheirhomeicefortheirpregamewarm-up,andittakesmenotimeatalltolocatetheimpossiblylargeframeofMr.Becketthimself.HeleapsontoEmmett’sback,wrappinghisarmsaroundhim,andtheirraucouslaughterbouncesacrosstheicebeforeEmmettshakeshimtotheground.It’saninterestingsight,becauseGooglemayormaynothavetoldmeCarterhasaninchonEmmettintheheightdepartment.
“No,Iknowwhoyoumeant.”Itearmygazeawaybeforehecanseeme.It’snotlostonmethatit’spointless.I’msittingbehindthebench;he’sgoingtoseeme.IguessIwasbankingonhimnotrememberingme.“Imusthaveheardyouincorrectly,though.Ithoughtyousaidhewasaskingaboutme.”
“That’sexactlywhatIsaid.Askedacoupletimes,actually.”Sheripsopenabagoflicoriceandgnawsonapiecebeforewhippingitaround.I’mfairlycertainshe’sgottheentiresnackbarinherlap.“Singingsomesongaboutyouapparently.”
Istoptwistingthelockofhairthat’scurrentlycuttingoffcirculationtomyfinger,andpromptlyburymyquicklyheatingfacebehindthecoollickofmybeercan.“What?”
Caraliftsashoulderinalazyshrug.“WhatcanIsay?Mygirlmadequitetheimpressiononhimlastweekend.”
Isnortalaughandswipeatthebitofbeerdribblingdownmychinasaresult.“Youmeanbecausehe’sneverbeenturneddownbefore?”Andtwodaysinarow,toboot.I’dbelyingifIsaiditwasn’thighlyentertainingtobethereasonforthatman’sstunnedexpressionwhenhedoesn’tgetwhathewants.
“Somethinglikethat.”
“Please,thatmanhadagirlonhishiptwentyminuteslater.”
“Hedidn’thookupwithherthough,whichisweird.Leftalone,rightafterEmmettputusinanUber.”
Iflickadismissivehandthroughtheair.DidCartertellmethesamethingthenextday?Yes.DidIbelievehim?No.DoInow?Stillno.Regardless,itdoesn’tmatter.He’sCarterBeckett,millionairehockeycaptain.I’mOliviaParker,brokehighschoolteacher.We’reworldsapart.Hell,we’renoteveninthesameorbit.
Evenifwewere,one-nightstandsandpolygamyaren’tmything,andneitheristhehighriskofcatchingavenerealdiseaseifwegettoocloseandaccidentallydotheno-pantsdance.I’vealreadymentionedIsometimesdon’tmakethebestdecisionsundertheinfluenceofalcohol.
I’mnotsureI’mintothewholedatingscene.Cara’sbeenrelentlesslytryingtosetmeupwithEmmett’snicerteammates,herwords,andIoncecaughthermakingmeanonlinedatingprofile.IguessIdon’thavemuchtimetomeetsomeone,andIkeepthinkingit’llhappenwhenit’smeantto.I’minnorush,andI’mokaywithbeingbymyselffornow.I’dratherwaitforsomeonewhoseprioritiesalignwithmyown.I’mnotinterestedindatingforthesakeofnotbeingalone,norfuckingjustforthesakeoffeelinggood.
That’swhatbattery-poweredboyfriendsarefor,andIkeepmineinadrawerathome.Infact,IpulleditoutassoonasIgothomeSundayafternoonafterleavingCarterwithhisjawdangling.Andyes,Ithoughtofhisstupid,hotfacewhileIusedit.I’mnotashamed
I’llnevertellanyone.
Cara’seyesnarrowlikeshe’stryingtofigureoutwhatthehellisgoingthroughmyheadrightnow.I’mnotevensureIknow,soIfocusonthemomentbeforeme.
Despitethewarmthinthearena,acoolchillnipsattheairastheplayersfloataround,stretchingout,windingup,firingoffshotsontheirgoalie.Everythingisamplifiedhere,thesharpzipofthebladesskatingacrosstheice,theslapofcompositesticksagainstrubberpucksbeforetheywhizzthroughtheair,thesmellofbutterypopcorn,theflashingoflights,andthechatteryoucan’tquitemakeout,despiteitbeingallaroundus.
Itmakesmemissplayinghockey.There’ssomethingaboutskatingonfreshlyZamboniedice,thefeelofthefrigidairwhippingatyourcheeks,theadrenalinerushwhenyouheadforthenetwithapuckatthetipofyourstick.Igetoutontheiceeveryweekwithmyniece’shockeyteambutit’snotthesame,especiallyconsideringtheeighteen-yearagegapandthefactthatI’mmostlytryingtowrangleinabunchofseven-year-olds.
Caradrawsmyattentionwithadeepsigh.“Well,hehadeyesonyoutheentiretime.”
“Didnot,”Imurmur,proppingmyfeetupontheglasssoIcanstareatmyshoesratherthansearchtheiceforthemaninquestion.
“Didtoo,youbrat.Imayhavebeenbirthdaygirlwastedbutit’sprettyhardtomisswhothemostfamousguyintheroomhashiseyesgluedtoallnight.”
Heatrushestomyface,andIhatethatitdoes.ThelastthingIwanttodoisblushoveramanthatprobablycallsoutthewrongnamewhenhecomes.IwanttofeellikeImeansomethingtoaman,notlikehe’smadeitachallengetogetinmypantsbecauseI’mthefirstwomanwhodidn’tfallathisfeet
Look,I’dbelyingifIsaidtherehadn’tbeenaminusculepartofmethatwastemptedtotakeCarteruponhisofferlastSaturdaynight.It’sbeenawhile,andit’salwaysnicetogetpolitelydrilledintotheground.AccordingtoCara,thesehockeymenhaveamazingstaminaandcangoallnight.Andoneasexperiencedashimmustbeabsolutelymind-blowinginbed.Putmeinacomaforadayortwo,youknow?Icouldusethechancetocatchuponmysleep.
I’llneverfindoutthough.Ishouldn’t,atleast.Right?
NoNo,Olivia,damnit.ThelastplaceIwanttoputmyselfisonthetopofthestupidlist.
“I’msurehe’llmoveonquicklyifhehasn’talready,”isthelameresponseIfinallygiveCara.
Abodycollideswiththeplexiglassinfrontofmewithabang,andmyheartrocketstomythroatasIyelp.MyhandslapsdownonCara’sthigh,fingernailsdigginginasmypulsethundersinmyears.
“Jesus,”Imutter,onehandovermyracingheart.
Carasnortsalaugh.“Uh-huh.Moveonquickly.Right.”Shenudgesmewithherelbowbeforewigglingherfingersatthepersontappingtheglass.“Thinkyou’vegotyourselfavisitor.”
Iknowwhoitis.Icanfeelhimthere.Mystomachtwirlsandmyheartbeatsettlesbetweenmythighs.Why?Ireallydon’tfuckingknow,otherthanthisguyissexonapairofskates,andnowI’mpissedoffbecauseI’mgoingtohavetogohomeandgivemyselfanotherunderwhelmingorgasmwhileIflickittothementalimageofthisinfuriatinglysexymanvyingformyattention.
Cara’smouthtiltswithamusement.“You’renotlooking,huh?”
Ishakemyhead,frowning.“Nope.Can’t.”
“Olivia!”CarterBeckettyells.It’sunnecessary,really.ForGod’ssake,I’mrighthere.
There’sthatdamntappingagain.ThelongerIignorehim,thelouderhetaps.It’sincessantandirritating,andeveryonearoundmebuzzeswithexcitement,wonderingwhyhewantsmyattention,andmorethanthat,whyinthesweethellI’mnotgivingittohim.
Theydon’tunderstand.Imaybeentirelyturnedoffbythewayhecarelesslycollectswomen,butI’monlysostrong.I’mafraiditmightbepossibletocharmthepantsrightoffme.Ifanyonecandoit,it’shim.
“Liv,Liv,Liv,Liv,Liv,”Carterchants,punctuatingeachcallofmynamewithatapontheglass.
“What?”Iwhisper-yell,finallyspinninghisway,throwingmyhandsoverhead.
Hisgrinisexplosive,handsome,sexy,infuriating.Leaningovertheboards,hestaresdownthelengthofhisstickatme,thetiprestingontopoftheglass.“Hi.”
GoodLord,Ican’t.Whatishappening?
Carterwatchesasheatfloodsmycheeksjustforhim.IcanpretendtobealoofallIwantbuttheman’snotstupid.HeknowsIlikewhatIsee,andwhatIseeishim,standingtherelikeasexygiantinhisequipment,grinninglikeagoofyidiot,thosestrikingemeraldeyessparklingwithmirthandawholelotofarrogance.
Carterknowswhathedoestome,andthatrighttherewillbemydownfall.
HeleanscloserandIhatemyselfforinchingforward,asifIwanttobenearhim,likehe’sgotasecretjustforme.
ThecornerofCarter’smouthlifts,revealingapanty-droppinggrinashepropshischinonhisglovedhand.“I’mgonnascoreagoalforyou.”There’sasurenessinhisdeeptimbre,anarrogancethatmakesmystomachtightenwithanticipation.Withawinkandtheshimmyofhiships,heskatesbackwardanddropstohisknees,spreadinghislegsashestretcheshisgroinandblowsabig,pinkbubble,allwithouttakinghiseyesoffme.
“Youlooklikeyou’rewavering,”CaramumblesaroundahandfulofM&M’s
ImanagetotearmygazeawayfromCarter.Animpressivefeat,becausehe’sstillstaringatmeandI’msilentlyundressinghimwithmyeyes,wonderinghowbigthestickinhispantsis.Betit’shuge,liketherestofhim.“Huh?”
“Isaidyoulooklikeyou’rethinkingaboutgivingintohismissiontofuckyou.”
Anyhintofdesireturnssourinmymouth,andmynosewrinklesasIcrossmyarms.“I’mnotamission,noramIlookingtobethenextgirlpicturedinthenewsgettingdownanddirtywithCaptainSyphilisoverthere.”
HalfofCara’spopcorngoesspillingtothefloorasshebendsforwardwithabarkoflaughter.“Youknow,he’sactuallyatotaldorkandreallysweetwhenhe’snottryingtogetintoyourpants.”
“Right,well,IguessIwouldn’tknow.”Isinkbackinmyseatandplantmyfeetbackontheglassuntilthey’reperfectlypositionedoverCarter’sface.Heleanstohisleft,stillsmilinglikeajackass.“Andwhathappenedtoallyourwarnings?Youspentthebetterhalfofyourbirthdaypartyreiteratinghimbeingbadnewsandtellingmenottofallforit.You’resendingmemixedmessages,andit’sconfusing.”
“Oh,he’sdefinitelybadnews.Ilovehimtobits,butifIwereasinglefemale,I’dprobablywanttoriphisdickoffandramitdownhisownthroat.”Shemotionsathercrotchbeforepretendingtostabanimaginarydickintohermouth.
Asoftsmiletouchesherface.“Butthenhedoesstufflikethis.”Shetossesapieceofpopcornovertheglass,andCartercatchesitonhistongue,pinkglobofbubblegumnowheretobefoundbeforehesingsongshisthankyou,thenpromptlycollideswithEmmettinsomesortofbearhug.Thetwoofthemgotumblingtotheicetogether,andwhentheyfinallymakeittotheirfeet,Carterwhackshimonthebuttwithhisstick.“Iswear,sometimesIfeellikeIhavechildren.”
Agiggleslipspastmylipswithoutmypermission,andI’mthankfultoleavetheconversationbehindwhenthegamefinallystarts.It’seasyenoughbecauseCara’ssittingbesidemescreechingateveryplay.Shedidn’tknowathingabouthockeybeforeshemetEmmett.NowI’msureshe’llbeoneofthosecrazyhockeymoms,thekindwhoberatetherefsuntilinevitablygettingred-carded.
“Ohcomeon,ref!”Shebangstheglasswithherfist.“Don’tyouhaveawifetogohomeandscrew?Quitscrewingmyboys!”
Carterhopsovertheboards,smilingatmebeforeheturnsandplopsdownonthebench.
Twominuteslater,helinesupforaface-off,bendingover,stickacrosshisknees,perfecthockeybuttintheair.Andhesmilesatme.
Heskatesbythebench.Smilingatme.
Squirtswaterintohismouth.Smilingatme.
AllIcanfocusonishistall,broadbodymovingfluidlyacrosstheice,thequick,effortlesscrossofhisfeet,oneovertheotherashetearsdowntheice,hisstickinfrontofhim,puckonthetip.He’sconstantlyyelling,commandingattention,leadinghisteam,crackingjokeswithplayersonbothsides.
Andwhenhe’snotdoingthat,he’slookingatme.
Halfwaythroughthesecondperiod,Cartercallsforthepuckattheredline,hammeringthebladeofhisstickontheice.Hetakesofflikelightning,twirlsaroundadefenseman,leansforwardononefootashewindsup,andletsthatpuckfly.Mymouthhangsasthepuckwhizzesbythegoalie’shead,hiscatchercomingupasplitsecondtoolate.Thebuzzer’salreadyblaringandthewarmspotbetweenmythighsisalreadywet.
Imean—what?No.Theice.Theiceiswet.I’mnot…no.That’s…that’sridiculous.
Isqueezemythighstogether,watchingCarterthrowhishandsintheairwithascreamthatechoesthroughthearenaashisteammates’bodiescollidewithhisagainsttheboard.Heskatesbythebench,knockinggloveswitheveryplayer,sprayingiceintheairwhenhecomestoafullstop.
Andhisbrightgazelockswithmine.
Hisstickliftsinslowmotion,pointing.Atme.CarterBeckettpointshisdamnstickrightatme.
Andhewinks.Hefuckingwinks
Foryou,hisperfectlipsmouthtome.
Oh.No.
Thecameraspanmyway,myvisionburstingwithflashingwhitelightsasIslinksofardowninmyseat,fingerscreepingupmyface,buryingitinmyhands.
ButCarter’snotdone.Ohno,ofcoursenot.Hewouldn’tbeCarterBeckettifhesimplyendeditthere.
Hejumpsontothebench,glovespressedtotheglass,grinningdownatmelikeaninfuriatinglysexyasshole.“Youlikethat,Olivia?”hehollers.“Thatwasforyou!”
Byfartheworstpart,though?
Mycrimsonfacealloverthemotherfuckingjumbotron.CHAPTER6INFLATABLEEGOCARTER
I’monthatpostwinhigh,floatingonairandfeelinginvincible.Butthisone’salittlehigher,aheady,addictingfeeling,ahungerIwanttofeed,andfuck,doIeverknowexactlyhowIwanttofeedit.
Apparently,though,Emmett’shopesaren’tashighasmine.
“Liv’sgonnahollowyoureyesoutwithaspork,”hesays,towelingoffinthechangeroom.
Seemslikesomethingshewoulddo.Butstill,Iask,“Why?”
“Whydoyouthink?”
Itcouldbeaplethoraofreasons.EverythingIdoseemstopissheroff.ButifIhadtotakeawildguess…“BecauseIlandedheronthejumbotron?”
Hewinks,pointingafingeratme.“Bingo.”
Isweepmyarmsoutwithagrin.“Ionlyshowedtheworldhowbeautifulsheis.”
Adamsnorts,whippingmeinthelegwithhisdamptowelashestrollsby.“That’sgood.Saveitforwhenshe’sjabbingyoureyesoutwiththatspork.Mightbeyoursavinggrace.”
Emmettshakeshisheadbutlaughs.“Youalsotoldtheentireworldhername.”
“Ohcomeon.”Iplantmyhandsonmyhips,becausereally,ifIcan’tnameherinthepostgameinterviewwhenonereporteraskedwhoshewas,thenwhatthefuckisthisallabout?“Whatgirlwouldn’tlovethat?”
I’mtryingtowinpointshere,andpersonally,IthinkI’mofftoagoodstart.Icouldreadherfuryfromamileaway.Whywasshefurious?BecauseI’mrelentlessandIdrivehernuts?Possibly.ButIthinkit’smostlybecauseshewantsmeandshefuckinghatesthatshedoes.Joke’sonher,though—herwrathonlyluresmedeeper.
“Thisisthegirlthatturnedyoudownlastweekend?”Garrettjumpstohisfeet,tugginghisslacksuphislegsandoverhiships.
Emmettsmilesattheground.“Twice.”
“Shedidn’tturnmedown.”Irufflemywethairwithmytowelbeforeshovingatoqueoverit.
“Twice.”Thetwofingersheshovesinmyfaceareunnecessary.
“We’rejustgettingtoknoweachother.”Ishrug.“Soshe’salittlehesitant.”
“Dude.Whenyouofferedheryournumber,shesaid,‘That’sgonnabeanofromme,’andslammedthedoorinyourface.”
Garrettguffaws,fingerspausingtheirworkonhisshirtbuttons.“No.SheRandyJackson’dyou?That’shilarious.Must’vekeptyouupallnight.”
Okay,soitwasfunny.OnceIgotthroughamomentofstunnedsilence,Icouldn’twipethegrinoffmyface.
Stunnedsilent.That’swhatthatwomandoestome.Fuckingstunsme.Idon’thaveasinglecluewhy.She’sgorgeousashell,butI’mnotnewtoprettywomen.
There’ssomethingaboutherthat’spiquedmyinterest,thesass,maybe,orthesarcasm.There’sasoftnesstoher,too,somethinglurkingjustbeneaththesurface,likeshe’stryingtohide.I’dwagerabetshespitsallthatfiresothatherresolvedoesn’tstartcrumblingaroundherlikeasandcastle.Shestrikesmeasanallornothingkindagirl,whichisprobablywhyone-nightstandsaren’therthing.
Idon’tcare.I’mjusttryingtomakemeherthing.
Maybethat’swhythefirstplacemygazegoeswhenourteamstrollsintothebaristhatwildmaneofsoft,darkchocolatecurls,thecaramelbitsweavingthroughout.Shelookslikeanicecreamfuckingsundae,andallIwannadoistasteher.
I’mtryingtoslipthroughthecrowd,butpeoplekeeptuggingmeback,clappingahandtomyshoulder,tryingtomakeconversation.I’mdoingadamngoodjobofignoringthem,becauseallIcanhearisCaraandOliviabickering.
“Justpretenditdidn’thappen.”
“Oooh.Pretenditneverhappened.Cool.Cool,cool,cool.Yeah,greatadvice,Care.”Oliviashimmiesoutoftheboothandhopsdowntotheground.“I’llpretendCarterBeckettdidn’tnamemeonTV.I’llpretendhedidn’tdedicateagoaltomeinfrontofallofNorthAmerica.”
Caraliftsabrow,asmileonherlipsthatsaysshe’sasmuchafanofOlivia’sattitudeasIam.“Allright,tiger.Whereareyougoing?”
Oliviatossesahandupoverhershoulderasshestalksoff.“Needanotherfuckingdrink.”
Shit,Ilikeher.Liketowatchhergo…
Literally,Ileantotheright,watchingthosehipsbounceasshemovesacrossthebar.She’sgotkillercurvesandafantastic,roundass.Thosejeansshe’swearinglikeasecondskinpaintaprettypictureofwhat’shopefullyinstoreformeoneofthesenights.
Emmett’selbowdigsintomyribs.“Behave.”
Idefinitelycouldbutit’snotinmynature.“I’lltrytoreelitin.”IpatCaraontheheadinwayofgreetingasImovebyher.
“Hitoyou,too,fuckface!”sheyellsafterme.Realpottymouthonthatone.
Forfuck’ssake,IcouldstandbackhereanddrinkinthesightofOliviaallnightlong,elbowsonthebar,assswayinggentlybackandforth,fingersdrummingasshehumsalongtothemusic
Theairarounduszingswithelectricitywithanotherstepforward,andOlivia’sspinestraightensforonlyamoment,followedquicklybyaquiverthatshakesit.
Mybreathcoatsherneck,andherskindotswithgoosebumpswhenIask,“Cold?”
Shespinssoquicklyshestumblesbackward,trippingoverastoolwhenourgazeslock.Shereachesouttome,eyeswidewithfear,andIlurchforward,catchingherwithanarmaroundherwaist.Shepeersupatme,herfingerswrappingaroundmyforearms,clutchingmetightlyasherchestrisesrapidly.I’mnotreadytohavemyasshandedtomejustyetsoI’llkeepmyobservationsonhowshereactstometomyself.
Idoenjoytheshowthough.
Andbyshow,Imeanthewaythosedeepbrowneyesblazeaheatedpathovermyface,dippingdownthelengthofmybody,rightdowntomyfeet,beforeslowly—sodamnslowly—makingtheirwaybackup.Herteethgrazeherbottomlipasshegripsmyforearm,fingernailsdigginginassheleanscloser.
“Areyoudone?”Ifinallyask.
Oliviatiltsherfaceup,leaningwayback;there’sgottobenearlyafoot-and-a-halfheightdifferencehere.Hereyesbouncebetweenmine,browsjustbarelypulledtogetherinquestion.
“Areyoudone,Olivia?”Irepeat,releasingherwaist,slippingmyhandoverherhipbeforepryingherfingersoffmyforearm.She’sleftmarks,butIdon’tmind.Infact,Ilikeit.I’lllethercarvehergoddamnnameintomyskinifitgetsmewhatIwant,andwhatIwantisher.“Checkingmeout?”
Herlipspart,headwagging.“I-I…what?Iwasn’t…checkingyou…what?”
Well,fuckmesidewaysandcallmeSally.Thisisafirst.Shesureknowshowtopumpmyegowhenitdoesn’tneedpumping.
Exceptwhenhergazesettlesonmyself-assuredsmile,sheripsherhandfreefrommineandspinsbacktothebar,rightbacktoignoringmelikeit’sherjob.Ifitwas,she’dbeapro.I’dhireherandpaydamnwell.
Restingmyforearmsonthebar,Iletmyshoulderbrushhers,’causegettingareactionouttaherisfun.Also,Iliketouchingher.Shesmellsgoodandshe’swarm.
OliviaglancesmywayandIflashheragrin.I’mrewardedwithhersignatureeyerollbeforeshesidestepsawayfromme.It’scool;itgivesmeachancetocheckherout.NotthatIhaven’talreadydoneitathousandtimestonight.Hardtolookawaywhenshe’ssittingrightbehindthebenchlookinglikeshewantstoripallmyequipmentoff.IfshethinksIdidn’tnotice,she’swrong.
Ican’thelpcoastingmygazedownherbody.She’skickingassinthisoutfittonight,alltighttee,aflashofcreamyskinpeekingoutabovethewaistbandofherrippedskinnyjeans,andaplaidshirtwrappedlowaroundherhips,theChuckTaylorsonherfeetthefinishingtouch.
Ifollowtheswingofherhipswhenshejutsoneout,andmyeyesfalltoherstellartitswhenshepinsherarmsthere.Iwouldn’tmindfuckingthosetonight.
Whenshearchesoneperfectlyshapedbrow,Ismile.
“What?YoucanlookbutIcan’t?”Ipropmychinuponmyfist.“Thosearecalleddoublestandards,Olivia.Genderequalityandallthat.”
Herlipspurselikeshe’stryingherdamnedestnottosmile.Iwishshewould.IcaughtherdoingitwithCaraduringthegameanditlitupthewholeplace.Wouldn’tmindbeingthereasonforoneofthem.
She’sstillnottalkingthough,soIlookathersomemore,watchinghersquirmundertheintensityofmystare.She’snothinglikethewomenI’musuallysurroundedby.Thosewomenloveshowingoff.Everyglanceshottheirwayonlyfuelstheirfire.Oliviaseemslikeshewantstosinkunderabarstoolanddie,whichisinsane;shemustgettheselookseverywhereshegoes.
Reachingout,Ifingerthewristcuffofthesoftflannelplaidwrappedaroundher,enjoyingthewaythemusclesinherstomachclenchattheproximityofmyhand.
“Howisitthatasabsolutelyinsaneasyouroutfitwaslastweekend,youlookevenbetterinthis?”Takingholdofbothhangingsleeves,Ihaulhertowardme.Shecomeswillingly,Ithink,fingersglidingupmyforearms.“Imean,plaidshirt,rippedjeans,andapairofChucks?Comeon,”Igroan,droppingmyheadback.“You’reagoddamnmasterpiece.Icouldjusttakeyouhomeandcuddleyouallnightlongonmycouch.What’sthatterm—Netflixandchill?”Iwindthesleevesaroundmyfistsandstepintoher,bendingmyneckuntilthetipsofournosesgraze.“Comeon,Olivia.Let’sdoit.”
Thelashesshepeersupatmefrombeneathareridiculouslythick,rampingupthatwholefuckmefactor,andItapthecornerofhermouth,rightwhereit’squirking.
“IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dthinkthewayyou’regnawingonyourliprightnowisyourdesperateattemptatbitingbackthatsmileofyours.Comeon,Liv.Letitout.Letthatbadboyshine.”
Olivia’sgrinexplodesacrossherface,likelywithoutherpermission.Sheletsoutthesweetestlittlegigglebeforeslappingapalmacrosshermouth.“Ohfuck,”shewhispers,twistingaway.
It’sunfortunatethatatthatmomentthebartenderstepsup,settingtwopintsdowninfrontofher.Herfacelightsupasshereachesforherbackpocket,butIslapdownabillandgrabthebeers,effectivelywipinganytraceofasmileoffherbeautifulface.
“Hey!”Olivia’sbrowspinchtogether.“Whatareyoudoing?ThoseareformeandCara.”
“Andyoucanhavethembackwhenyougivemethetimeofday.”
“Idon’tneedtogiveyouanythingandIcertainlydon’tneedyoutokeeppayingformydrinks.”Fistsmeethips.Thosewhiskeyeyesnarrowdangerously.Oliviapacksasurprisinglyferociouspunch.“Ihaveajob,youknow.”
“Doesyourjobpaythirteenmillionayear?”
“I’mnotimpressedbyhowmuchmoneyyoumake.”
Shetrulylookslikeshecouldn’tgivelessofashit.Shedoes,however,reachforthedrinks,hoppingupanddown,rubbingagainstmeasIholdthemaboveherhead.
“Whatisitthatyoudo,anyway?”Myshouldersstiffenatmyquestion,becauseit’snotoneIusuallycaretoask.Thosearetypicallymorealongthelinesofhowhard,howfast,andtoporbottom.
OliviagrumblessomethingIcan’tquitemakeout,butGod,asshole,andsexyaredefinitelypartofit.WishIcaughtthewholething.
“Justforgetit.I’llgetdrinksbackatthetable.”Shethrowsherhandsintheairaboveherheadlikeshe’sdonewithme.
Thingis,though,I’msofarfrombeingdonewiththatwoman.That’swhyI’monlyonestepbehindherasshestalksbacktothebooth.
“Didyoucallmeamanwhore?”IaskasIslideinbesideher,catchingthetailendofherconversationwithCara.
“Iwouldnevercallyousomethinglikethat,”sheinsists,swipingherbeerfrommyhand.
“Yeah.”Caraacceptsherowndrinkwithasmile.“ShecalledyouMr.Manwhore.”
Oliviahidesherguiltygrinbehindtherimofherglass.“It’smuchmoredistinguished.”
Igiveherelbowagentlepinch.“You’realittleshit,aren’tyou?”
“Me?Youliterallyneverstop.”
“I’mlikeapuppy,”Itellher.
“Annoying,untrained,andrequiresalotofwork?”
Ileanintoher,droppingmyvoice.“I’mexceptionallycuteandIthriveonattention.”
Anothergiggle,genuine,sweet,andlight,makingmesmile.
“That’stwo,”Ipointout.
“Twowhat?”
“TwolaughsI’vegottenoutofyoutonight.”
Herbrowsriseasshetakesasip.“Mmm.Arewekeepingscore?”
“Weare.I’maimingforten.”
“Well,goodluck,buddy.That’sthelastoneI’mgivingyou.”
“We’llsee,”Imurmur,eyesonEmmettashecomesboundingover,eyeslitupwhentheyspotOlivia.
“Ollie!”Hescoopsherup,yankingherrightfromthebooth,andwrapsherinahugIkindawishIwasonthegivingendof.Iwouldn’tmindseeinghowshefeelsinmyarms.Hesmacksaloudkisstohercheekbeforestuffingherbackinherseat,andshetopplessideways,grippingmythighasshecatchesherself.
Desirepricklesmyskinandrushestomydickatthecloseproximityofherhand,andittakeseverythinginmetogentlyguideheruprightwithmyhandonherlowerback,ratherthansuggestingwegofuckoutthistensionthat’sbeenvibratingbetweenusforaweeknow.
“Ollie?”Imuse,andwatchthewayOliviablusheswhenCarastartstappingoffhernicknamesonherfingers.
“Yeah,youknow,Liv,Livvie,Ol,Ollie,OllieWallie.Andofcourse,mypersonalfavorite.”Herheadrollsoverhershouldersassheletsoutamoan.“Oh,MissParkerrr.”
Heatradiatesoffthepetitewomanbesidemeassheburiesherfacebehindherhands.
IskimmybottomlipwithmythumbasIwatchher.“Areyouateacher,MissParker?”
Sheclearsherthroat,handsbracketingherfaceasshestaresdownatthetable.“No?”
“Highschool,”Caraclarifies.“Allthoseseniorboyswannagetbetweenherlusciousthighs.”
“Nostudentsareevergettingbetween—ugh.”Theregoherhandsagain,rakingupanddownherface.
Christ,she’sexactlythetypeofteacherIwould’vediedtohaveinhighschool.Gorgeous,withaperfect,fullassandasnarky,sarcasticpersonality.
“Iagree,Ollie.”Myhandcoversherthigh,squeezinggentlyasherlipspartonajaggedinhale,wideeyespeeringatmeasthemagnetisminstinctivelydrawsusbothcloser.“Besidestheobvious,whatyouneedisamanwhoknowshowtotakecareofyou.”Myfingerswalkupherthigh,andherscurlaroundmybicep,grippingittostayupright.“Someonewhoknowshowtohitalltheright…spots.”
AbeatofsilencestretchesbetweenusasIholdhergaze,theintriguethatdancesinit,evenifshedoesn’twanttoadmititdoes.
“Okay,”Emmettstarts.Outofthecornerofmyeye,hewaggleshisfingerbetweenus.“What’sgoingonhere?”
Oliviablinks,spellbrokenassheshakesherheadandshiftsback,takingherwarmthwithher.
“Nothing,”sheinsistsatthesametimeIdeclare,“Ollie’splayinghardtoget.”
Caraswipesaloadednachochipthroughacupofsourcreamandpointsitatme.“She’snotplaying.Sheishardtoget.”
Oliviajabsmyshoulder.“Anddon’tcallmeOllie.Webarelyknoweachother.”
“Right.Okay.”Islideoutoftheboothandtugonthetiearoundmyneck,pullingitlooseandstuffingitinthepocketofmycoatthathangsoffthebooth.Oliviawatchesthewholethingwithpinchedbrows,likeshewantstoknowwhatI’mdoingandwhereI’mgoing,andI’dlovetoseethelookonherfaceasIturnmybackandwalkaway.
“Youtakingrequeststonight?”IasktheDJinthecornerofthebar.“I’vegotsomeworktodo.”
Helaughs,andwhenI’mdonemakingmyrequest,Iheadbacktothebooth.
OliviawatchesasIpopafewbuttonsfreearoundmyneckandshiftmysleevesuptomyelbows.Iholdmyhandouttoher.
“Well,let’sgo.”
“Pardon?”
Igesturebehindmewiththeflickofmyhead,beckoningherwiththecurlofmyfingers.“Comeon.Let’sgo.”
Hercheekspoolwithangryheat.“I’vealreadytoldyouI’mnotgoinghomewithyou.Youareunbelievable.”
Mypalmshitthetablewithagroan,slidingslowlyacrossthewood,headdippingsooureyesarelevel.“Yes,you’vemadethatabundantlyclear.Webarelyknoweachother,asyou’vesaid,sowe’regoingtostart.”Anothercurlofmyfingers.“Dancewithme.”
“ButI…I…”Herheadswivelsasshelookstoherfriendforhelp.Carashrugs.“Idon’tdance,”Oliviablurts.
“Patentlyuntrue.Iwatchedyoudanceallnightlonglastweekend.Trustme.”Irubmytiredeyeswithmyhand,halfburyingmynextwords.“Couldn’ttakemygoddamneyesoffyou.”
“Shepreferstobehalfwayinthebagbeforeshestartswigglingthatassofhers,Carter,”Carachimes,chompinganothernachochip.“She’sonlyonhersecondbeertonight.”
“Okay,soyoudon’tdance.”Iwindherhangingplaidsleevearoundmyfist,givingitagentletug.C’mon,Liv.Iflickaheatedgazetohers,aninvitation.“Doyouturndownchallenges,aswell?”
Thereitis,thebiteofherteethintothepinkfleshofherbottomlip,thatquirkinthecornerofhermouththatgiveswaytoaslowexplosion,thegrinthatignitesherentireface.
Sheslipshertinyhandinmine,andIknow.
I’vegother.CHAPTER7EASILYGOADEDOLIVIA
Iwishitdidn’tfeelsogood,myhandinhis.Long,broadfingersthreadthroughmine,swallowingmeupandtuggingmeoutofmyseat,throughthecrowdcoveringthedancefloor.Thesizedifferenceinourhandsaloneisstaggering,andIfindmyselfthinkingofallthewayshecouldputthathandtogooduse.
Thethoughtitselfsendsashiverofpleasurerocketingdownmyspine,whichiswhyIdidn’twanttodothisinthefirstplace.Idon’tknowwhyitfeelsnicewhenhetouchesme,orwhyI’mconstantlydrawntohiswide,goofygrin,thewayhecarrieshimselfinsuchacarefreemanner,sorelaxed,confident,andincontrol.ForsomereasonI’mafraidifhegetsmealonefortoolong,I’lllethimcomeknockingonthewallsthataredefinitelynotsturdyenoughtokeephimout.
Hebelongshere,ontheotherside,noemotionalattachments.Becausethat’sthelastthinganyonewantstodowithamanwhohasnoinclinationtosettledown:getemotionallyattached.
Carterclearshisthroat,drawingmygazeuphisback,overthebroadexpanseofhisshouldersbeforeheturns.
“Madam.”Withacharming,crookedsmilehetakesasmallbowbeforehehaulsmeintohim.Myfingersclutchathis,andIcarefullylaymyfreehandoverhisshoulder.There’sagleaminhiseyes,atinycreasehiddenbetweenhisbrowsashestaresdownatme,andforamomentIwonderifhe’sasconfusedasIam.
“Isthisokay?”Hisquietwordsrolldownmyneckashiswarmpalmpressesintomylowerback.
Mythroattightensashistouchsearstheexposedfleshabovethewaistofmyjeans,andItipmyheadinanod.“Mhmm.”
“Whatdidyouthinkofmygoaltonight?”
“Itwasabeautifulgoal,”Iadmitonasigh.Hewasafirst-rounddraftpickattheageofeighteen,andhecinchedthetitleofcaptainatonlytwenty-two.Today,he’soneofthehighestpaidplayersever.Carteristrulyaphenomenoninthehockeyworld.
Hisfacebeamswithpride.“Andthecelebration?”
“Whataboutit?”
Hisfacedips,fingertipspressingfirmlyintomyskin.“Idedicatedittoyou.”
Apprehensionknotsinmybelly,thesamewayitdidwhenIsawmyfacealloverthebigscreen.“Youmeanwhenyoulandedmyfaceonthejumbotron?WheneverybodyaroundmestartedwonderingwhoIwasandifyou’dfinallydecidedtosettledown?OrwhenSportsnetsaidIwasprettyenoughbutnotthetypicalswimsuitmodelsyoufuck?”
Hiseyelidshood,hisvoiceahuskytimbre.“Youcouldbeaswimsuitmodelifyouwantedto.”
He’sjustnotgettingit.
“Iknowthat’smeanttobeacompliment,butitirritatesmefurther.ThisisclearlyjustafungametoyoubecauseIturnedyoudownlastweekend.I’mahumanbeingwithfeelingswhohaszerodesiretobeobjectifiedonnationaltelevision.”Heatrushesupmyneck,righttothetipsofmyearsasIpullmyhandsbackandstepoutofhisstunnedgrasp.“Notallofusthriveonattention,Carter.Someofusactivelyavoidit.”
Anotherstepback,andI’mabouttothankhimforthedanceandexcusemyselfwhenhishandcatchesmine.
“Hey,”heurgessoftly.“I’msorry,Olivia.Ididn’tmeantoembarrassyou.GuessIwasexcitedtoseeyouagainandwantedtoletyouknow.Extremegesturesarekindamything,and,uh…”Heslipshisfingersbelowhistoque,scratchingathishead.“Idon’thaveafuckingcluewhatI’mdoinghere.”
Idon’teither.Idon’thavetowonderifthisishisusualMO;ifitwere,he’dprobablybebetteratit.
Carter’sthroatworkswithhisswallowasheflicksagazedownatourjoinedhands,thenbackup,asilentquestion:WillIkeepdancingwithhim?Atmycautiousstepforward,agrindetonateshisface,andheyanksmeintohim,holdingmeclose,andwhenthemusicshifts,thefamiliarmellowstrumofaguitardriftingaroundus,mybodystills.
AlaughpuffspastmylipsasJohnMayerstartssingingaboutawomannamedOlivia.
“Didyourequestthissong?”
Histonguepokesthecornerofhismouthwithhisguiltybutproudgrin,andinsteadofanswering,hetowsmecloseruntilourbodiesmeldtogether.Myeyesflutterclosedwhenhismouthdipstomyear,andatingleofdesirelightseveryoneofmynerveendingsonfirewhenhetakesmyhands,drapingmyarmsaroundhisshoulder,andburiesthelyricsinmyshoulder,singingsoftlyandso,sodeep.
“Fuck,I’vehadthissongstuckonrepeatforthelastweek.DoyoulikeJohnMayer?”
Myhandsskimhisbroadshoulders,grazingtheknottedmusclesthatripplebeneaththesurface,andIrunapalmupthenapeofhisneck,astrongdesiretotwinemyfingersinthechestnutwavespeekingoutfromhistoque.“Ilovehim.”
“What’syourfavoritesong?”
Mymouthquirkstotheside.“I’vegottwo.”
“Gimmeyourmostfavoritefirst.”
MyfacewarmsasIavoidhisgaze.“‘SlowDancinginaBurningRoom.’”Aslow,sadsong,twopeoplewhoaredestinedtofailtogether,kindoflikewhateverthehellitiswe’redoingrightnow.There’snowaythisendswell.It’sboundtogoupinflames;we’rejustdenyingtheinevitable.
I’mnotsureCarterseesitthewayIdo,becausehesimplymakesapleasedsoundandmurmurs,“Goodsong.Secondfavorite?”
“‘BiggerThanMyBody.’”
Myjawslamsshutathisimmediatereaction,thepiss-poorjobhedoesofsmotheringthatdamnsnicker-snortofhisashisexceptionallylargebodyshakesbeneathmyhands.
Myeyesnarrow.“Shutup.”
“Ican’t—”snicker,“—Ican’thelpit!”Hefoldsforwardwithaburstoflaughter,foreheadfallingtomyshoulderashisarmscirclemeentirely,clingingtomewhilehevibrates.
“Thosearenottearsinyoureyesrightnow,”Imusewhenhepullsback,jadeeyeswatering.
Hewipeshisfaceonhisshoulder,inhalingsharply.“Youwalkedyourselfrightintothatone.Youknowyou’retiny,Ollie,right?”
“I’mnot—”Istickmynoseintheair.“WhatIlackinheightImakeupforinattitude.”That’swhatmydadsays,anyway,andItendtoagreewithhim.
“Youdon’tfuckingsay.”Carterhums,amusedgazesetonme.“Howtallareyou?”
“Five-three,”Iliewithouthesitation.
“Bull-fucking-shit.”Hechuckles,thebronzedskinaroundhiseyescrinkling.Hepullsback,lettinghisgazecoastdownthelengthofmybody.“I’mgivingyoufive-one.”
Agrowlrumblesinmythroat.“Damnit.”
There’sthatlaughagain,andI’mnotsurewhyIlikeitsomuch,orthesparkleinhiseyesashespinsmeoutbeforetuggingmebackagainsthishardchest.
“So…”Thehesitationinhisvoiceremindsmehe’snotusedtomakingsmalltalk.“You’reahighschoolteacher.”
“Iam.”
“Howoldareyou?Youbarelylooklikeyou’reoutofcollege.”
“Iturnedtwenty-fiveinOctober.”CarawhiskedmeawaytoPalmSpringsforfourdays,courtesyofEmmett’screditcard.ItwasdifficulttoexplainthetanwhenIreturnedtoworkonMondayafteralongweekendthatstartedonThursdaywithasickday.
“Twenty-five?You’reababy!”
“Iamnot.Yourbirthday’sinFebruary,soyou’renoteventhree—”Ifoldmylipsintomymouthasmyownwordssinkin,andCartergrinstriumphantly.“Ohshit.”
“YouGoogledthefuckoutofme,MissParker.”
“No.”Obviously.Callitmorbidcuriosity.
“Whatelsedidyoufind?”
Otherthanconfirmationthathissmileispermanentlydazzlinganddimple-popping?“Thatyoureallylikewomen.”
Carterlaughssoftly,peeringovermyheadforamoment.“Whatdoyouteach?”
Thathe’scontentinnotrespondingtomyfindingsremindsmeofwhyI’vetoldmyselftostayaway,tokeeppartsofmyselfhidden.Whenyoustartgivingthemawaytopeoplewhoonlywanttoholdontothemuntilthenextpersoncomesalongiswhentreadingthewaterbecomesdangerous.Astrangechillpricklesthebackofmyneck,andwhenItrytoshiftbackward,putatinybitofspacebetweenus,Carterpullsmeback,bendshisneck,and…pressesafleetingkisstothecrownofmyhead.
“Olivia?”Hetouchestwofingerstomychin,closingmygapingmouth.“Whatsubjectdoyouteach?”
Ishakemyhead,mythroattight.Idon’tknowhowthesimpletouchofhislipsmakeseverythingfeelsohazy,butitdoes.“Don’tmakefunofme,”Iwarn.“Iteachhealthandfitness.”
Afrowntugsdowntheedgesofhisperfectmouth.“WhywouldImakefunofthat?That’ssocool.”
“Yeah?Mybrotheralwayssaysit’snotarealsubject.”
“Yourbrothersoundslikeanasshole.”
“Sometimes.”Ilaugh.Jeremy’sfouryearsolderthanme,andthethingwedobestisbicker.He’dlosehismindifhecouldseemerightnow,butI’mnotgoingtotellhim,andthathehasn’tyettextedmeaboutCarter’sgoaldedicationmeans,somehow,he’smissedit.I’mcallingitablessing.Jeremy’sahugefan,buthewouldabsolutelynotbeafanofmebeingoneofthegirlspicturedgoinghomewithCarter.
Ironically,Jeremygotastrangerpregnantafteraone-nightstandattwenty-two.Itturnedouttobeoneofthosefatescenarios.Youknowthetype,realfairy-tale,romancenovelstyle.Theyfellinlove,gotmarried,andhadtheirsecondbabyearlierthisyear.Reallifedoesn’tworklikethat99percentofthetime.
IsmileupatCarter.“He’snotallthatbad.Jeremyjustlikestoteaseme.”
There’ssomethinginhisstare,atendernessIdon’trecognize,onethathasbutterflieseruptinginmystomachatthevulnerabilitythatcomeswiththewayhewatchesme.
MypalmflattensagainstthenapeofhisneckandItwirlalockofhairaroundthetipofmyfinger.“What?”Iwhisper.
Hishandrunsthelengthofmybody,overthecurveofmyhipsuntilitsettlesonmyjaw.Histhumbgrazesmychin,thelineofmylowerlip,andmykneeswobble.
“Ilikewhenyousmile,”hemurmurs.“Andlaugh.Itmakesmewanttosmiletoo.”
Idon’tknowwhattosaytothat.He’snotatallbeingthemanheletsthemediapainthimtobe,oreventheonehewaslastweekend.He’sthrowingmeoffmyaxis,andI’mnotusedtotheinstability;myworldisalreadysodelicatelybalanced.
“Okay,soyou’retwenty-five,fivefootone,haveabrother,playedhockeyforfifteenyears,teachhealthandfitness,thriveonsarcasmandsass…”HepausestogrinwhenIbarkalaugh.“Whatelse?Didyouplayanyothersports?”
Myheadbobseagerly.Ihadafairlyprivilegedupbringinginthatmyparentshadenoughmoneytoputusintotheextracurricularactivitiesofourchoosing.MydadstilltellspeopleItookactingclassesandthat’showIgottobesodramatic,butinreality,Ispentallmytimeplayingsports.Ithrivedwithanyphysicalactivity,buthockeywasbyfarmyfavorite.Funny,whenyouconsiderthatmyloveforthesportstartedwithmybrotherstrappingoversizedgoalieequipmenttomeandstuffingmeinthehockeynetinourdrivewayatfouryearsold,whereheproceededtofireshotaftershotatmeuntilmymomranoutofthehouse,shrieking.
“Softball,soccer,volleyball—”
AhowloflaughterquicklyeatsmywordsasCarter’sheadlollsbackward,andwhenthegiantmandropshisforeheadtomyshoulder,Ifrown.
“Volleyball.”Hegasps.“Youplayedvolleyball.”
Mybrowstugtogether.“Volleyball’sanincrediblesport.Icoachtheseniorgirls’team.”
“That’samazing.”Ishecryingagain?“Socool,Ol.”Heshiftsback,wipingbeneathhiseyes.He’sfuckingcryingagain.“IguessI’mjust…”Hecocksaknowinglook.“Youknow…”
IstepoutofhisholdsoIcancrossmyarms.“No,Idon’tknow.Enlightenme.”
Laughterbubblesagain,andallIcanfocusonarethedimplesinhischeeks,thewayhiseyessparkle.Helaysahandoverhisbelly,andhisentirebodyvibratesashefailsmiserablytogetahandleonhimself.
“Canyouevenreachthenet?”hechokesout.
“Oh,you’rehilarious.”Twohandsonhisfirmchest,Igivehimashove,andhecatchesmywrists.“I’vegotpowerfullegs.Ididjustfine;don’tworry.”
Hehaulsmeintohimashetakeshislowerlipbetweenhisteeth.Hishandsinksintomyhairattheexactmomentmyfingerstwinearoundthesilkycurlsatthenapeofhisneck,andhehums.“Mhmm.Powerfullittlelegs.”
“You’reincrediblyannoying.”Ashiverofdelightstealsmybreathashispalmskatesdownmyside,curvingovermyhip.
Cartercupsmyjaw,histhumbsweepingovermycheekboneashishalf-liddedgazedropstomylips.“AndyetIthinkI’mwinningyouoveranyway.”
Mybreathcomesinashallowburst.“Idon’tlikeyou.”
Histonguepeeksout,touchingthesplitinhisbottomlipthat’salmostfullyhealed,andmyeyestrackthemovement.Hisbreathiswarmasitmingleswithmine,andforamoment,IswearIcantastehim.Foramoment,Iwantmore.
“Youmaynotlikeme,butyourbodysureashelldoes.Thewayyourfingersareholdingontomyhairfordearliferightnowtellsmeso.”
Myeyeswidenastherealityofourpositionsinksin,theintimacy,thetwoofustangledtogether,hismouthaninchfrommine.What’sworse,we’restillslowdancingtoasongthat’sendedwhoknowshowlongago,whiletherestofthedanceflooriscoveredwithpeoplegyrating.
“Oh.”Myhandsfallfromhisshoulder,hishair,andItakeastepbackward.“Oh.”
“Hey.”Hechucklessoftly.“Comehere.”Hisfingerslacethroughmineandhegivesmeagentletug,towingmeovertothebarwherehepullsoutastoolandpromptlysetsmeontopbeforetakingaseatnexttomine.“You’reabouttospiral.”
“I’mnotabouttospiral.”Imightbeabouttospiral
“You’reabouttospiral,Ollie.Idon’thavetoknoweverythingaboutyoutoseethatyou’rethetypeofpersonwhosebrainisalwaysracing,overthinking.”
“That’snot…”Ituckmyhairbehindmyear,gazefixedonCarter’shand,aninchfrommineonthebar.“Itfeelslikealotofpressure.”
“Whatdoes?”
Everything.Pressuretogivein,pressuretonotgivein.Pressuretofitthemoldofallthewomenwho’vecomebeforeme,theonesthatwillcomeafterme.Pressuretobedifferentanduniquewhilealsofittingin.
WithCarternexttome,everybody’swatching.Everybody.Thefansatthearena,thesportscasters,histeammateshereatthebar.EverywhereIlookeyesareonus,watchingtoseewhatwe’lldonext.Idon’tknowhowtoputitintowords.
Mygazerisesslowlytomeethis,andsomehow,heknows.
Hetipshisheadinthedirectionofthedoor.“Wannagetouttahere?”ThesecondIopenmymouth,heslapsapalmacrossit.“Notbacktomyplace.Let’sgogetsomethingtoeat.”
“Iateatthegame,”Iblurt.
“Youdidnot,liar.Carastuffedherfacewithhalfthesnackbar,andyouhadonehandfulofpopcorn.IhadmyeyesonyoutheentiretimeandIgotshitforitafterthegame.”
“No,youdidn’t,”Imuse.
Hechuckles,tracingtheshapeofmyhandwithhisfinger.“Coachsaid,‘Wedon’tpayyouthirteenmilltomakegooglyeyesatprettybrunettes.’”Hegrabsmyhands,pullingthemtohischest.“C’mon.Getsomethingtoeatwithme,please.Itdoesn’thavetobeanythingcrazy.WecangetfuckingstreetmeatforallIcare.It’sloudinhereandIliketalkingtoyou.”
Um.
“Please,Ollie.Please,please,please,please.”Onegentlecheekpokeforeveryplease.Hegripsmychin,givingitalittleshake.“Pleeease.”
“Soannoying,”Igrumble,swattinghishandaway.
Hischinhitshisfistandhewagshisbrows.“Annoyingorendearing?”
“Annoying,definitely.”Myshoulderssagwithasigh,andasifhesensesmydefeat,Carterleapsoffhisstool,punchingafistthroughtheair.
“A-ha!I’vefuckingcrackedher!”Hegripsmywaist,spinsmeintheair,dropsmetomyfeet,and…peppersmyentirefaceinkisses.Hisfingerslacethroughmine,tugging,beforeIhavetimetocomprehendwhat’shappened.“Ipromise,Ollie,youwon’tregretit.”
Ihaveaseriouslove/haterelationshipwiththegigglebubblingfrommychest,andIneedtogetahangonitbeforeIgoanywherealonewiththisman.
“I’mnotgoinghomewithyou.”
Heholdsuptwofingersinapromise.“Iwon’tevenask.”
“Okay,well,Ihavetousethebathroomfirst.”
Hepopsaquickkisstomycheek.“I’llgogetourcoats.”
Ipatmyredcheekswithsomecoolwateroverthebathroomsink,tryingtobringthefirebrewingtheredowntoasimmer.Itdoesn’twork.Ifeelhotallover.Myladybitsareexcited,myvaginarubbinghermetaphoricalhandstogetherbecauseshethinksshe’sgettingsometonight.It’shighlyprobableatthispoint.Cartergotthisfar;hecandefinitelygetfurther.Thethoughtisbothterrifyingandthrillingallatonce.
IttakesmenotimeatalltospotCarterwhenIexitthebathroom,givenhissizeandhishugepersonality.Hedoesn’thaveourcoatsyet.
Hedoes,however,haveastrawberryblondewithlegsthatgostraighttoheavengluedtohisside,herglossyblacknailsrakingslowlydownhisback.Heleanshiseartowardhermouthasshepressesuponherhighheels,whisperingtohim,andmystomachinvoluntarilysinksatthesmileheflashesher.
Mynear-mistakeandflawedjudgmentstinglikeaslaptotheface,andbythetimeI’mclimbingintothebackofacab,he’sburstingthroughthedoorofthebar,holleringmyname.
It’stoolate.Isureashellhaveenoughself-respecttonotstandthereandsubjectmyselftothatplayboybullshitIdefinitelydidn’tsignupfor.Hemaynotbegoinghomewithmetonight,buthe’sgoinghomewithsomeone.
Andquitefrankly,whoCarterBeckettsleepswithisofnoimportancetome.HecangofuckhimselfforallIcareCHAPTER8COCKSOCKS&CINNAMONBUNSCARTER
It’scoldasballsagain.
“Whatthefuckisgoingonthiswinter?”Adamstuffshishandsdeeperintohiscoatpockets,buryinghisfaceuptohisnosebehindhisscarf.
“Thisissomeeastcoastshit,”Garrettgrumbles.“Ididn’tleaveNovaScotiaforthis.Westcoastwintersaresupposedtobemild.”Atinyhandtugsonthetailofhiswoolcoat,andGarrettgrins,crouchingdowninfrontofthelittleboy.“Hey,buddy!Doyoulikehockey?”
Thisisoneofmyfavoriteeventsoftheyear,buttheguysareright—it’snotnormallythisfuckingcold.Theairisfrigid,andwe’vewanderedawayfromtheheatlampsforabreak.Well,sortofabreak.MygazeslidestoGarrettashesignsajerseywithhisnameontheback.It’shardtotakearealbreakhere,andnoneofusareturningawaykids.
“Eh,Woody.”InudgeAdaminthearm.“Nextyearmaybethinkabouthostingthisinthesummersowe’renotatriskoflosingourballs.”
Helaughs,surveyingthepackedpark.“Thisiswhentheyneedthemoneythemost.Putasockonyourcockifyou’rethatworried.”
Isnicker.“Sockonyourcock.”
Everyyear,weholdatreelightingfundraisingeventonthefirstdayofourChristmasbreak.Thisyear,it’sonthetwenty-third.TheFamilyProjectisAdam’sprideandjoy,aneventourteamhashostedthankstohimforthelastfouryears,andalltheproceedsgotoSecondChanceHome,ahomeforkidswhoarewaitingtobeadopted.There’stonsofcoolshitthatgoesoneachyear,likemini-sticktournaments,skillcompetitions,skating,photoswiththeplayers,andmore.Myfavoriteisthegingerbreadhousecompetition.IalwayslosebecauseIeatasIbuildmyhouse.Joke’sonthem,though—eatingcookiesiswinning.
“Headsup.”Emmettelbowsmeandinclineshisheadtowardthecameramanandreporterheadingourway.“Tuckyourcocksockawayforafewminutesandbehave.”
“Aw,man.Ihatebehaving.”Iflashagrinwhenthereporterstopsinfrontofus.“Doyouwantmygoodside,ormybetterside?”
Adamknocksmeoutoftheway.“Nobodycaresaboutyourface,Carter.”
“Well,Ibegtodiffer.”
“That’sbecauseyourego’sthesizeofNorthAmericaandyouliketoargue.”HeswingshisarmsaroundmeandEmmett,tuggingusclose,andgesturesGarrettoverwiththeflickofhishead.Withasmileforthecamera,heasks,“Whatwouldyouliketoknow?”
WestandthereforthenextseveralminuteswhileAdamdetailsthereasoningbehindTheFamilyProject,theparentsthatchosetoopentheirarmstohimandlovehim,gavehimasecondchanceatlifeandafamily,andhowhisbrieftimeinthefostersystemleadhimtothis.
“AndCarter,”Tracy,thereporter,says.“Itlookswe’reonlyfifteenhundreddollarsawayfromthetwenty-thousand-dollargoalheretoday.Reachingthatgoalcomeswithapricetopayforyou,doesn’tit?”
Ilayahandonmychest.“ApieinthefaceisapriceI’malwayswillingtopay.”
Garrettsnortsinmyear.“Sohumble.”
Aflashofdarkchocolateandcaramelovertheshoulderofthecameramancatchesmyeye,andIleantotheleft,intoGarrett,trailingthedark-hairedbeautyasshestrollsdownthesidewalk.
“Well,I’llbefuckingdamned.”
Tracygivesmeaquizzicallook.“Pardon?”
“Oh,nothing.Ijust…”IwatchOliviadisappearintoasmallbakery,andIdisengagefromthetangledarmsofmyteammates.“I’vegottohandlesomething.Theboyswillfinishup.”
Withaquicklookinbothdirections,Ijogacrossthestreet,ignoringmynameasittrailsafterme.ThebelloverthebakerydoorjingleswhenIburstthroughit,butOliviadoesn’tlookuptoseewho’sjoinedher.She’stoobusygazinglonginglyatthetreatdisplay,onehandpressedtotheglass,theotherclutchingherwallet.
“Anythingelseforyoutoday?”themanbehindthecounterasksasheplacesaniteminawhitebox.
“Um…”Herfingersdrumagainstherbrownleatherwalletandsheshakesherhead.“No,I—”
“Ohshit.IsthatOreocheesecake?Icouldfuckwiththat.We’lltaketwopieces,please.”
Oliviawhirlsaround,handonherthroatasshebouncesoffmychestwithagasp.“JesusChrist,Carter.”Shewhacksmyshoulder.“Youscaredme.Whatareyoudoinghere?”Shesmilesatthebakerasshepullsafivedollarbilloutofherwallet.“Nocheesecake,please.”
Islidemycreditcardacrossthecounter.“Yescheesecake,please.”
“Carter—”
“Howcomeyouonlygotonecinnamonbun?”Iask,peekingintotheboxonthecounterasthemanslicesintothecheesecake.
Man,Oliviablushesalot.Idon’tknowwhy,butIdoknowit’scuteasfuck,especiallywhenshepairsitwithtwirlingalockofhairaroundherfinger.
“MymomalwaysmadethemonChristmasmorning.Idon’tknowhowtomakethem,soIbuyoneeveryyear.”
“You’regonnalasttwowholedayswithouteatingthat?How?”
“BecauseIhave—”shepausestofrownatmewhenIripoffachunkandpopitinmymouth,“—self-control.”
“Oh,notme,”Imumble,thenswallow.“Holyfuck,that’sgood.”Igrabanotherchunkandflickanodatthemanwho’slaughingatmebehindthecounter.“We’lltakehalfadozen,please.”IsmiledownatOlivia’sirritated—butoddlyunsurprised—face.“Youlooknice.”
Shelooksdownatheroutfit,herleggingsandchunkyleatherankleboots,theoversizedhoodiebeneathheropenwoolcoat,and—youguessedit—sheblushes.
Igiveherhairagentletug.“Myfavoritepartisthetoque.”Ichuckleasamittengoestumblingfromherpocket,andIpickitupbyoneofthefloppyears.“Andthepuppymitts.”
Shetakestheboxesfromthemanwithasmileandathankyousomuch,thenfollowsmeoutside.
“DoesyourmomnotmakecinnamonbunsonChristmasmorninganymore?”IaskasIofferherhalfoftheoneI’mcurrentlyeating.SheshakesherheadandIshrug,shovingtherestofitinmymouth,lickingthegooeycreamcheesefrostingoffmyfingers.
“MyparentsliveinOntario,soIdon’tseethemforChristmas.”
“Can’tyouvisit?”
“Icould,butthey’resemi-retiredandtravelallwinter.Mybrotherliveshere,soIhavedinnerwithhisfamily.”
“YouspendChristmasmorningalone?”Idon’tlikethat.Whydoesn’tshespendthewholedaywithherbrother?OrwhataboutCaraandEmmett?“Isn’tthatkindalonely?”
Sheliftsashoulderandletsitfall.“I’musedtoit.”Hergazecoastsdownmybody,thenbackup.“Whatareyoudoinghere,Carter?”
Itipmyheadacrossthestreet.“Fundraiser.”
“Andwhatareyoudoinghere?”
“Well,Isawyouwalkingand,Imean…”Iscratchmytemple.“WhydidyoubailonmeonFridaynight?”Somethinguncomfortableandforeigntwistsinmystomach.“Ithoughtweweregonnagogetsomethingtoeat.”
Oliviastaresatmeforalong,silentmoment.“Areyouserious?Youbailedonme.”
“Whatdoyoumean?Youleftwithoutsayinganything.”
Sherollshereyes.“BecauseIcamebackfromthebathroomtoyouwithanotherwomanalloveryou,Carter!”
“What?”MyforeheadwrinklesandsmoothsoutjustasquicklyasmyminddriftsbacktoBreanna.OrmaybeitwasBrenda.Brynn?Shit,Ican’tremember,butIknowshehadredhair.“Oh,OldRed.You’reupsetaboutthat?”
“OhmyGod.”Sheclapsahandoverherface.“Youseriouslycan’tunderstandwhyseeinganotherwomanalloveryoumightbeaturn-offafterI’djustagreedtospendtimewithyouoneonone?”
“Well,IguessIcan,but…”Irubthebackofmyneck.Isshemadatme?Idon’twanthertobemadatme.“Ididn’tdoanything.ThatkindastuffhappensallthetimewhereverIgo.”I’mnotsurethatwastherightthingtosay,evenifitisthetruth.Ifanything,shelookskindofscarednow.“Areyoujealous?”
Hergazedipstotheground.“No.”
“Ithinkyouare.”Itugonthestringsofherhoodie.“AndIthinkIlikeit.”
Oliviaswatsmyhandaway.“Idon’tneedtobecomparingmyselftootherwomenandremindingmyselfofallthewaysIdon’tstackup,okay?”
Don’tstackup?Whatthefuck?“Itwouldn’tbefairtocompareyoutothem.You’reonanentirelydifferentlevel.”
“I’maware,”shemumblesattheground.
“Yeah,they’re,like,here.”IchopahandacrossOlivia’storso,thenraisemyhandasfaraboveherheadasIcanreach.“Andyou’rewayuphere.”
Asweet,timidsmiletugsatthecornerofhermouth.“Youknow,forsomeonewhoputshisfootinhismouthmoreoftenthannot,yousureknowhowtobesweetsometimes.”
“JustanotheroneofmyGod-giventalents.”Iglanceacrossthestreetatthebusypark.“Hey,wannacomehangoutforabit?”
“Oh,no,I…”Sheshiftshercoatsleeveuptocheckher…barewrist.“Shit.Idon’twearawatch.”
Ithrowanarmaroundhershoulder,buryingherinmyside,andstarttowingheracrossthestreet.“You’reabitofamesssometimes,huh?C’mon.Theguysarethere,andit’llbefun.”
“Definefun.”
“I’mgettingapietothefaceifweraisetwentythousanddollars,andIknowAdamLockwoodislookingforwardtodeliveringsaidpie.”
Oliviasnickers.“Whatifyoudon’traiseitall?”
“ThenIdonatetherestofthemoneyandgetapietotheface.”
“HowmuchdoyouthinkI’dhavetopayAdamtoletmedothehonors?”
Igrindownather,tugginghercloser.“C’mon,pip-squeak.”OLIVIA
I’musedtobeingtheshortestpersonintheroom.Ninety-ninepercentofmyhighschoolstudentsaretallerthanme,eventhefreshmen.
Butthisisterrifying.
“AmIexceptionallysmallorareyoufriendsexceptionallytall?”IwhispertoCarterasweapproachagroupofhisteammates.He’scurrentlydiggingintohissecondcinnamonbun,hisfingerscoveredinfrosting,buthedoessparemeanamusedandlingeringglance.
“Both.Don’tworry.Theywon’tbite.”Hewinks.“Imight,though.”
Idon’tknowhowIwounduphere.IwasprettysetonnotseeingCarteragain,oratleastnotinteractingwithhim.IthoughtFridayhadbeenacrudebutnecessaryreminderofwhohewas,becauseI’daccidentallylethimpeekoveracoupleofmywallsandmomentarilyforgotten.
ButnowI’mnotsosure.
Don’tgetmewrong:themaniswithoutadoubtasarrogantasthemediamakeshimouttobe.Hehasnoqualmsaboutsayingwhatever’sonhismind,whichmakeshimremarkablyhonestbutisalsoalittlejarring.
Forexample,I—assomeonewhosepantshe’sactivelytryingtogetinto—don’tneedtoorwanttoknowthatwomenattachthemselvestohisbodywhereverhegoes.IcertainlyappreciatetheclarificationthatwhatIsawFridaybetweenhimandthestrawberryblondewasn’tasitseemed,butthetruthwassomehowasintimidatingasthebeliefhadbeennauseating.
Thetallestmaninthegroupturnsaround,andIrecognizehimimmediatelyasAdamLockwood,Vancouver’ssuperstargoalie.Hespreadshisarmswide,steppinginourdirection.
“Where’dyougo?Ithoughtmaybeyouwenttobuyacock…”Hiseyesslidemyway,andhischeeksflush.“Sock…”Heclearshisthroatandgivesmeashywave.“Hi.MeAdam.No.Fuck.”Heclapsahandtohisfaceanddragsitdownbeforeofferingittome.“Adam.I’mAdam.I’msorry.I’mjustembarrassedbecauseIdon’tknowyoubutIsaidcocksockinfrontofyou.”
OhmyGod,he’sadorable.He’salsoinsanelybeautiful,brightblueeyesanddark,tousledcurlsbeggingtobetouched.
Islipmyhandintohis.“Youcansaycocksockinfrontofmeallyouwant.”
Carter’smouthdipstomyshoulder.“CanI—”
“No.”Icoverhisfacewithmyhandandshovehimaway.
“Damnit.”Hegesturestowardme.“ThisisOlivia.”
Adam’seyesbrighten.“Oh!Cara’sfriend!”HiseyesdarkenashelooksatCarter.“Oh.Cara’sfriend.”
Carterrollshiseyes.“It’sfine.Oliviawantedtohangoutwithme.”
“Uh,that’snothowithappened.Youdraggedme—”
Hisentirearmwrapsaroundmyheadashepullsmebackintohim,buryingmywords.“Shhh.”
Adamwearsaninsanelybroadandsunnygrin,hisgazebouncingbetweenCarterandme,andit’satthismomentIrealizeI’mstillinhisarms,backpressedtohischest,andI’mnotsurehowtodisengage.
Thankfully,Emmettspiesmefromacrossthepark.
Hiseyeswiden,andhebreaksintoajog.“Ollie!”HeyanksmeoutofCarter’sholdandwrapsmeinoneofhisburlyhugs.They’remyfavoritekind,bearishandborderingontheedgeofsuffocating.“Caredidn’tsayyouwerecoming.She’satameetingwithsomeclients.”
“Iwasn’t.Iwasdoingsomelast-minuteChristmasshoppingandgotdraggedhereagainstmywill.”
AhandsomeblondappearsatEmmett’sside,givingmeasheepishsmile.“Carterdoesn’tliketotakenoforananswer.”
“Icantellit’saverydifficultconceptforhimtograsp.”
Histurquoiseeyesflashwithmirth,andhetakesmyhand,introducinghimselfeventhoughIalreadyknowwhoheis.“Garrett.Ibetyou’dlikemebetter.”
“IbetIwouldtoo.”
“Can’tblameya.”Hegestureslazilyathisface.“It’stheeastcoasttwang.”
“Backoff.”Carterhuffs,tuggingmeaway.“She’smydate.”
Um.“Thisisnotadate.”
“Prettysureit’sadate,Ollie.”
Icrossmyarms.“Prettysureyouhavetoasksomeoneonadate,Carter.”
Hisjadeeyesgleam.“Eh,whatever.Ask,drag;it’sallthesame.”Hethreadshisfingersthroughmineandhaulsmeforward.“C’mon,pip-squeak.Let’sgogetourfacespainted.”
“I’mtwenty-five.I’mnotgettingmyfacepainted.”
***
Igotmyfacepainted.
Honestly,Idon’twanttotalkaboutit.
“Youlooksopretty.”
“Ihaveyourdamnjerseynumberonmycheek,Carter!”
Hefoldshislipsintohismouthinanattempttohidehisguiltysmile.“Sopretty.”
Justtrustme,he’dsaid.Well,it’llbethelasttimeIdo.I’dsatdownwithaclearfaceandstoodupwith#87paintedinblueandgreenonmyleftcheek.Thekickeristheobnoxiouspinkheartsurroundingit.I’dsayatleastIdon’thaveOlafonmyface,butCarterseemstobeincrediblyproudofthecartoonsnowmanthatcovershischeek.
Hegesturestoastoneretainingwall.“Wannasitandhaveourcheesecake?”
“You’vehadtwocinnamonbumsandacorndog.Howareyoustillhungry?”
Hepatshisbelly.“I’mabigboy.”
Hecertainlyis,andthecorndogistheonlythingI’veeatensincebreakfast,soIlethimpullmedownbesidehim,andweenjoyourdessertinsilence
“Doyouneedaridehomelater?”heasksafteraminute.“Icantakeyou.”
Mybellydoesthisoddflip,andIcan’tpinpointtheexactreason.ItcouldbebecausethethoughtofbeingaloneinacarwithCarterlatertonightmakesmebothanxiousandexcited,orbecauseI’mtooembarrassedforhimtoseewhereIlive,theshoebox-sizedhousethatfitsmeperfectly.
Iswallowdownmybiteandshakemyhead.“No,thankyou.Ishouldgetgoingafterthis.”
Hisfacefalls.“What?Already?No,youcan’t.”Hegesturesatthetoweringpinetreecurrentlybeingwrappedinlights.“Youhavetostayforthetreelighting.Wecoulddosomethingelseafterthistoo.Gosomewhere,maybe.”
“It’sgettinglate.”
“Butyoudon’thavetoworktomorrow,”heargues,orwhines.Littlebitofapouttoo.“You’reonvacation.”
“Idon’tknow…”I’vealreadystayedlongerthanIplannedto.
I’veseenCartergetbehindamicrophoneandmakethecrowdlaugh.I’veseenhimengagewitheverychildwho’stuggedonhishand,whetherforphotosorsignaturesorasimplechat.I’veseenhimbeafriend,aleader,acommunitypartner,andthroughitall,he’swornthemostgenuinesmile.IfI’mbeinghonest,I’mnotsureit’sasidetohimIwasreadytosee,eventhoughCarainsisteditexistedsomewherebehindtheegotisticalplayboyattitude.
AndIguessthat’sthething:justbecausehe’sgotthissweet,goofysidedoesn’tmeantheplayboysidedoesn’texist.Youcanbeboth,andyoucanhaveboth.ButifI’mgoingtohavehim,Idon’twantboth.
ThelongerIstay,themoreIsee,theeasieritbecomesformetofall.AndIrefusetofallwhennobody’sgoingtobewaitingatthebottomtocatchme.
“Idon’tthinkit’sagoodidea,”Ifinallytellhimquietly.
Disappointmentflashesinhiseyes,andhespeakssoftly.“Whyareyousoopposedtohangingoutwithme?”
“It’snotthat.It’s…”MybottomlipslidesbetweenmyteethasIstareatmyfeet.“I’mnotinterestedinaone-nightstand.I’vetoldyouthat.”
“Soyouwannagoonadate?”
Well,nowIcan’tnotlookathim.“Youdon’tdate,Carter.”
“Right.”Hisgazecoastsslowlydownmyface,lingeringonmylipsforamoment.“Nottypically.Butthat’snotwhatIasked,Olivia.”
Ican’tfocus.Everythingfeelshazy,likeathickfogIcan’tseethroughtotheotherside.Becausethat’swhatthisis.Ihearhiswords,hisquestion,butIdon’tknowwhatliesontheothersideoftheactions.It’slikechoosingtojumpwhenyoucan’tseetheground.
“Liv?”Cartersqueezesmyfingers.“Doyouwannagoona…date?”Hetacksonabarelyaudiblefuck,peeringupattheskyashetipshisheadsidetoside,thebonesinhisneckcracking,asifsimplysayingthefour-letterwordispainfulenough.
Whichonlyservesasareminderthatadatewouldbeawasteoftime,bothhisandmine.
“Ihavenodesiretogoonadatewithyoujusttoletyoufuckmeattheendofthenightandthenpromptlywatchyoupubliclyparadearoundtownwithadifferentgirlgluedtoyourhipeveryotherdayoftheweek,leavingmefeelingusedandtossedaside.”
Asimplenowouldhavesufficed,whichiswhatI’dmeanttosaywhenIopenedmymouth.Instead,Iword-vomitedalloverhimandembarrassedmyselfbyrevealinghoweasyitwouldbeforhimtohurtme.
Ultimatelythough,itiswhatitis.Atthispoint,Idon’tknowhimwellenoughtomakeanotherchoice.Carter’snotbeensecretiveabouthisintent.Besidesbeingforthcomingwithwantingtogetmeinbed,theguyalsoproudlysplasheshispersonallifealloverthepapers.WhatamIsupposedtothinkwhenhecontrolshisownnarrativeandthatnarrativescreamsfuckboy?
“I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantobeinsensitive.It’sjust—”
“It’sallI’vegivenyou.Youdon’thavetoapologize.”Carter’sthumbsweepsovermyknuckles,andIwatchashetracestheshapeofeachfinger.“Soyoudon’twanttohookup,butyoudon’twanttodateeither?IguessI’malittleconfused.”
“That’sfine,”Iinsist,maybealittlestubbornly.“I’mtheonlypersonwhoneedstounderstandmydecisions.Youcanhaveanybodyyouwant,Carter.”
Hislaughishollow,longfingersskimmingthesharpangleofhisjaw.“Ican’t,clearly.”Hegesturesatmewithasweepinghand.“BecausewhatIwantisyou.”
“Youdon’tactuallywanttotakemeonadate.YouonlythinkyouwantmebecauseIsaidno,andyou’renotusedtoit.It’sthethrillofthechase.”
Hegnawsonhislip.“That’swhatIthoughtatfirsttoo.ButnowI’mnotsosure.”Heliftsalazyshoulder.“Whoknows;maybeI’dbegoodforyou.”
Ihearthewords,andI’mtryingsohardtofocusonthem,butit’sbecomingimpossible.Myeyessqueezeshutwithmysnicker.“I’msorry.Iknowthisisaseriousconversation,butyou’vegotthatdamnsnowmanonyourface.”
Carterdipshishead,coveringhissmilewiththehandherunsoverhismouthbeforehepeersbackupatme.“Willyoupleasejuststayforthetreelighting?We’rehavingfun.There’snosenseinendingitnow.I’llorderyouanUbertotakeyouhomesoyoudon’thavetoworryaboutwhatmighthappenifwe’realonetogetherinadarkcarlater.”
“I’mnotworried—”
“Youare.You’refuckingtransparent,Ollie.’CauseI’dprobablytrytokissyou,andyou’dprobablyletme.”Heleansback,blowingoutadeepbreath.“Andwhothefuckknowswhathappensafterthat.”Asoft,easysmile.“Sostay,please.Nofunnybusiness,Ipromise.”
I’mquicklylearningthattheonlythingI’mgoodatsayingnotoishisrequesttogetmenakedandinhisbed.He’sincrediblypersuasive,especiallywhenhepullsthosedimplesin,orwhenhegivesmethosepuppydogeyes.
That’showIwindupstandingnexttohimnearlytwohourslater—wellafterAdam’ssmooshednotone,nottwo,butthreepiesintohisface—asthesunfinishesdippingintothehorizonwhilewestareupatthemassivetree,waiting.
Myfrostybreathpuffsoutinfrontofme,andmyteethclatterasashiverrollsthroughmybody.Withthesungone,thewinterairfeelsalotmorefrigid.
Cartershiftsfrombesideme,disappearingfromview,andamomentlaterhisarmscomearoundme,pullingmebackagainsthischest,encasingmeinhiswarmth.Mybodystillsatthecontact,butinside,everynerveendingfizzes.
Myarmslift,floppy-earedpuppymitten-sheathedhandsgrippinghisforearmswheretheywraparoundme,andIsinkintothemoment,lettingmyselfforgetabouttheexpectations,thefears,thelines.
AchucklerumblesaroundmeasCarterrestshischinontopofmyhead.“CutestfuckingmittensI’veeverseen.”
Thetreecomestolife,multicoloredlightstwinkling,makingthisDecembernightglowasthecrowdaroundusoohsandaahs.
“It’sbeautiful,”Iwhisper.
Carter’sarmstightenaroundme.“Yeah.Sureis.”
Withthetreelitandtheparkemptying,Carterwalksmetothecaridlingbythecurb.
Ilookatthefancy,all-blackSUV.“Iknowyouorderedtheluxuryoption.”
Heshrugs,smilebashful.“Proveit,pip-squeak.”
Igiggle.“Thanksfortoday,Carter.Itwasfun.”
Henods,thenstopsmewhenIreachforthedoor.“Wait.WhatareyoudoingonNewYear’sEve?We’rehavingateamparty.CaraandEmmettwillbethere.Maybeyoucouldcome.”
“Oh,Idon’t—”
“Doyoualreadyhaveplans?”
“Well,no,but—”
“Thenyou’llcome.”HefoldshishandstogetherbeneathhischinwhenIopenmymouthtoargue.“Please,Ollie.It’llbefun.”Hestepsinfrontofthecardoor.“Iwon’tletyouleaveuntilyousayyes.”
Irollmyeyes.“Okay,fine.I’llbethere.”
Hepunchesafistthroughtheair.“A-ha!”
“It’snotadate,”Iremindhimquickly,pokinghisshoulder.
Heshakeshishead,handsup.“Notadate.”Heopensthedoorandgesturesformetoclimbin,andthenproceedstoreachoverandbucklemein.Hetucksmyboxofcinnamonbunsonmylapandpullsback,scratchingthebackofhisneck.“Um,Ollie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’msorryforupsettingyouFridaynightandmakingyoufeellikeIbailedonyou.”
Mymouthquirks.“I’msorryIactuallydidbailonyou.”
“I’mnotsorryyouwerejealous.”
“Iwasn’tjealous.”
Cartergrins.“Greenlookssogoodonyou.”
“Shutup.”Ismileupathim.“I’llseeyouonNewYear’sEve.”
Henods.“Notadate.”
“Notadate,”Irepeat.
Thenheshutsthedoor,hitsmewithtwofingerguns,andyells,“It’sadate!”CHAPTER9DOGS>GIRLFRIENDSATCHRISTMASCARTER
Ihavealove/haterelationshipwithChristmas.
Growingup,itwasmyfavoriteseason.Yeah,itwasn’tjustaholiday;itwasawholedamnseason.
ItstartedinNovemberwhentheVancouverairwouldchillenoughformydadtokickonthefurnace.ChristmasmusicstartedplayingfromthestereospeakersinourlivingroomoutthroughthewholehouseassoonasRemembranceDaypassed.We’dbarelyhaveourHalloweendecorationsdown,andMomwouldpulloutallthebinslabeledChristmasfromtheattic
She’dkickherholidaybakingoffwithchocolatepeanutbutterballs,eventhoughtheChristmasbeforeshesworeshe’dwaituntillater.Theearliershebaked,themoreweate,andtwoweeksbeforeChristmas,she’dbeamessinthekitchen,freakingoutoverhavingnothingleft.
ButmyfavoritewasthefirstSundayinDecember.Wewereabusyfamily,alwaysonthegobetweenmysisterandI,bothofuscompetitiveathletes,evenaskids.ButonthatfirstSunday,weclearedourschedulelikeclockworkeveryyear.We’dstartoffatourfavoritedinerforbreakfast,andIalwaysgottheOreopancakes.Thenwe’dheadtoMerryTreeFarms,wherewe’dtrudgethroughfields—snowcoveredornot—insearchoftheperfectChristmastree.
DadhadathingforChristmastrees.Nolessthanninefeettall,andwideenoughthatwecouldallfitaroundit.Ithadtofillthefrontwindowinourlivingroomjustright.He’dspendminutesexaminingatreeonlytosuddenlysaynopeandheadofftofindanother.MysisterandIwerealwayscompetingtofindtheperfecttree,theonethatwouldimpressourdad.Oneyear,heboughttwobecausehesaidwebothpickedperfectones.
WhenIwasten,heshowedmehowtousethesaw,andwecutthetreedowntogether.Ihelpedhimcarryitbacktothetruck,andweworkedtogethertogetitupintothebedoftheF-150.
Whenwegothomewithourtree,MomwouldcranktheChristmastunes,makeaplatterofsandwiches,andthefourofuswoulddecoratethetreetogether.Thenwe’dallpileontothecouchwithmugsofhotchocolateandatrayofChristmasgoodiesandwatchTheSantaClaus.WhenIwasyounger,IalwayswishedmydadwouldtakeSanta’splacelikeTimAllendidinthemovie.HepromisedtotakemetotheNorthPolewithhimifiteverhappened.
IlovedeverythingaboutChristmas.
ButwelostmydadsevenyearsagoandChristmashasneverbeenthesame.
Cuttingtheengineinthedrivewayofmychildhoodhome,Istareupatthelacklusterhouse.There’snotasinglelightordecorationtoindicatewhattimeoftheyearitis,andIknowwhy.EveryyearIoffertoputthemupformymom,beghereven,butshejustgetsthissadsmileandsays“Maybenextyear.”
Still,shetriestogiveuspiecesoftheChristmasshethinkswewant,eveniftheeffortleaveshercoveringuptheacheinherchest,pretendinglikeeveryChristmaswithoutmydadbyhersidedoesn’tkillher.Ihatewatchingherlikethis,seeinghersobrokenwhenshedeservessomuchlove.
“Whatareyoulookingat?”
Theweary,quietvoicetomyrightmakesmejump,likeIsomehowforgothewashere.Ismileatmyfriend,hispaleblueeyesmovingslowlyaroundthecarlikehe’stryingtoseewhatI’mseeing,eventhoughhecan’t.
“HowdoyouknowI’mlookingatanything,oldman?”
Hankiseighty-threeyearsyoungandbeganlosinghisvisionatfifteenduetoLeberhereditaryopticneuropathy.Itaffectedhislefteyefirst,andafewmonthslaterhisright.Thoughhecanperceiveshadows,he’sbeenlegallyblindsincebeforehissixteenthbirthday.
Hanktapsthespotbetweenhiseyeswithtwofingers.“Thirdeye.Somepeoplecallitmother’sintuition.”
“You’renotamother,”Iremindhim,incasehe’sforgotten.
Hisdeeplaughlinestransformhisweatheredfacewithhisheartychuckle,andherunsaglovedhandoverhismouth.“Yourmotherletyouputuplightsthisyear?”
“Nope.”Isigh,steppingoutofthecarandintothefallingsnow.Openingthebackdoor,IletDublin,Hank’sguidedog,outofthebackseatbeforeIroundthecartohelpHank.
“It’shard,youknow,”hestartssoftly,slippinghishandintominewhileIguidehimtoDublin’slead.“Livingwithoutyoursoulmate.Holidayswithoutthem.Newyearsandbirthdays.Heck,listenin’totheeveningnewswithoutthemishard.It’sallhard,Carter.”
Iknowthat,ofcourse.I’vewatchedmymomstruggleyearafteryear.AndHankknowsbecausehelosthishighschoolsweethearttocancerfourteenyearsago,sevenyearstothedayIlostmydad.It’showHankandImetwaybackwhen,ontheworstdayofmylife.
Ishakethesnowfrommytoquebeforesteppinginsideandkickingmybootsoff.DublinwaitspatientlybyHank’ssideasIhelphimwithhiscoat,andIsmileatthewayheshiftsonhispaws,readyforpermissiontoboltintothekitchen.He’sthesweetestgoldenretrieverintheworld,butprobablytheworsttrainedguidedog.
Well,maybeit’snotthetrainingthat’ssobad,buthowlaxHankiswithhim.Dublin’salwaysonwhenheneedshim,butHankdoesn’tlikekeepinghiminworkingmodefortoolong.Hesaysdogsshouldbeallowedtobedogs.Hank’sfairlyindependent,andIthinkmorethananythinghegotDublinforthecomfort,theemotionalsupport.
Hankstickshisnoseupintheair,inhaling.“Ifyouthinkyou’regettin’someofthatturkeybeforeme,Dubs,you’remistakin’,bigfella.”Oncehe’sgothiscaneout,hegiveshisdogapat.“Okay,buddy.Goahead.”
Dublinskittersacrosstheoldhardwoodfloors,slidingpasttheopeningforthekitchenbeforehereversesanddisappearsinside.Agaggleoflaughtereruptsfromtheroom,andIhearmymomandsisterastheygushovertheirfavoritedogandhowcuteheis.
Amomentlatermymomemerges,slidingintothelivingroomonhersocks,hercheeksflushed,facemorelitupthanthehalf-assedChristmastreeinthecornerofthelivingroom.HergazequicklysweepsovermeandHankasshesmoothsherpalmsoverherbrownhair,andshetakesastepforwardandleanstotheside,peeringaroundus.
“Oh.”Shefrowns.“Onlyyoutwo?”
“Onlyustwo?Wereyouexpectingsomeoneelse?”Itugherintome,envelopingherinahug.Shesmellslikecinnamonandsyrup,baconandturkey,thesameaseveryyear,whichishowIknowmyChristmasmorningisofftoagoodstart,eventhoughshesighsatmyquestion.
“No,nobodyelse.”Sheplacesherhandsonmyshouldersandpressesuponhertoes,kissingmycheek.“MerryChristmas,sweetheart.”SheembracesHank.“MerryChristmas,Hank.I’msogladyoucouldmakeit.”
“WherewouldDublinandIbeifweweren’tspendingChristmaswiththetwomostbeautifulwomeninVancouver?Andthischump,”headds,thumbinginmygeneralvicinity.“Thankyouforhavingme,Holly.”
Myyoungersistersauntersintothelivingroom,leaningagainstthekitchendoorframe,wearingthatsignatureBeckettsmirkmydadgaveus.“Momwashopingyouweregoingtosurpriseusbybringingyourgirlfriend.”Jenniepopsachocolatepeanutbutterballintohermouth.“Herexactwordswere,‘wouldn’tthatbethebestChristmaspresentever?’”
Mygazeslidesleft,landingonmymom,andIcockmyheadandraisemybrows.She’swearingthisgrin,halfsheepish,halfguilty,maybeasprinklehopeful,too,butshestillswatsmyshoulder.
“Oh,don’tgivemethatlook,Carter.Iknowthatlook.Iinventedthatlook!You’rehidingsomething.”
“I’mnothidinganything.”Imovebyher,wrappingJennie’sentirefaceinsomesortofheadlock,whichshepromptlytries—andfails—towrigglefreeof.“Idon’thaveagirlfriend.”
Jennielandsapunchtomygut,earninganooffrommeasIreleaseher.Sheflipsherbraidoverhershoulder.“That’swhatIsaid.Nobodywouldeverwanttodateyou.”
Isnortalaugh.“Please.I’mahotcommodity.Everyonewantsapieceofme.”
SherollshereyesasshegreetsHankwithahug.“Yeah,it’scalledalimony.”ShebarksaloudlaughinmyfaceandthensquealswhenIlungeforher,droppingtothefloortouseDublinasashield.
“Well,sinceyoursisterbroughtitup…”Momshiftshertortoiseshellglassesuphernose,thathopefulexpressionneverwaningassherocksbackandforthonhertoes.“Who’sthegirlyou’vebeenpicturedwith?”
“Whatgirl?”Iheadintothekitchen,findingthewidespreadplatterofChristmasgoodies.Idropachocolatepeanutbutterballinmymouthandquicklyfollowitupwithasnowmansugarcookie.“Derearewotsofgirls,”Imumblearoundmybite,thenswallow.“YouknowhowIfeelaboutvariety.”
“Carter,forheaven’ssake.Swallowbeforeyouspeak,andyouknowdamnwellwhichgirlI’mtalkingabout.”
Ishrug,thoughIknowexactlywhoshe’stalkingabout,andsheplantsherhandsonherhips,lipspursing.
“Don’tfeedmethatbullshit.It’sbeentwoweeksofpicturesofyoutwo.Slowdancingatthebarlastweekend,atyourfundraisertwodaysago.”Shearchesabrow.“HowlikeyoutowaituntilyoursisterandIleavetobustoutyourdate,bytheway.”
Well,that’snotwhathappened.IsawOliviaaftertheyleft.
Shegesturesatmewiththesweepofbothhands.“Andyoudedicatedyourgoaltoher!”
“Oooh,her.”
“Yes,her.Andtheninyourpostgameinterview,yousaid,‘That’sOlivia.’”
“Right.”Itaphernose.“That’sOlivia.”
Herjawtics,eyesflashingwithsomethingdangerousandscary,beforeshereachesforwardandflicksmerightbetweentheeyes.
“Ow!Whatwasthatfor?”
“IknowthatwasOlivia,becausethat’swhatyousaidinyourinterview,smart-ass!IwanttoknowwhoOliviais.”Shemanagestostoplongenoughtopullinadeepbreath,andwhenshecontinues,shedoessoatanormallevel.“You’veneverdonethatbefore,dedicateagoaltoagirl.”
“Untrue.”Ipointattheonlytwoladiesinmylife,evenifI’mconsideringaddinganotheronetothemix.Why?They’refuckingcomplicated;thesetworighthereproveexactlythat.“I’vededicatedplentyofgoalstoyoutwo.”
MomsnapsateatowelatmewhenIreachforanothercookie.“You’rereallygettingonmynerveslately,CarterBeckett.”
“I’vealwaysbeenthere,Mom.”
Istudyhercloselyforamoment,notingthewaysomuchofherexcitementhasdrained.There’sadisappointmentthatlingersinherexpression,pullingdownthecornersofhermouth,dullingthesparkinhereyes.Idon’tlikethatI’vesomehowcrushedwhatlittlebitofhappinessshemanagedtofindtoday.
Inudgehershoulder.“Youdidn’treallythinkIwasgoingtoshowupherewithagirlfriend,didyou?”
Hercheeksflushandshewavesmeoff.“Ofcoursenot.”Hergazeshiftstothetableinthediningroom,thenbacktome.Ifollowit,findingthefifthplacesettingwhenthereshouldonlybefour.
“Aw,Mom,c’mon.”
Sherushesintothediningroomandquicklypicksupthedishes,cutleryclatteringagainsttheplate.“It’snothing.Nothing.Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinking.Ithoughtmaybe…”Anotherwaveofdismissal.“Nothing.Thefifthplacesettingwasforthedog,actually.”
Jenniecomesupbehindmeandtugsmyear.“Wouldyougetagirlfriendalready?QuitbreakingMom’sheart.I’msurethere’ssomeoneouttherethatwilllookpastallyourhumongousfuckboy-sizedfaults.”
“Oh,Jennie.”Mompressesahandtoherforehead.“Wouldyouquitcallingyourbrotherafuckboy?”
“Heprefersladies’man,”Hanksupplies.
“Yeah,Ido.”Iwhoop.“That’smyguy!”
“Andladies’manisjustanicernameforfuckboy.”
JenniesnickersandleadsHankoutofthekitchen,leavingmeandmymomalone.
“Youknow,Carter,I’veneversaidanythingaboutyourchoiceto…to…”She’sgotthisflail-yhandthinggoingon,flappingaroundherfacelikeshe’stryingtofigureoutanicewaytosayhersonsleepsaround.“Todowhateveritisyou’redoingwithsomanydifferentwomen,”shefinallysettleson.“ButIhatetothinkyou’remissingoutonsomethingincredible,somethingspecial.”Sheliftsoneshoulder,wearingasmilethatmanagestobesheepish,sad,andnostalgicallatonce.“Somethinglikemeandyourdadhad.”
Tugginggentlyonherhanduntilsheshufflesforward,Ipullherintome,windingmyarmsaroundherandholdinghertight.
“Howareyoudoingtoday,Mom?”
“I’mokay.”Astaggeredinhalefollowedbyaraspyexhalethathintsatthelie.“Imissyourdad,Carter.Imisshimsomuch.”
Myeyelidsfallshut,asifthat’llstopthepain.Itwon’t.Mymom’spainismyown.
“Iknow,Mom.”IpressmylipstoherhairasIsqueezeheralittlebittighter.“Imisshimtoo.Thebinsmadeitoutthisyear,”IaddonawhisperasIspythosebig,bluetotessittingbythestairs,Christmasscrawledoverallofthem.
“Icouldn’topenthem,”sheadmits.“Justsatthereandstaredatthem.But…it’sastep,right?Evenifit’sasmallone?”
“It’sastep,Mom.”
Aswestandthereinthesilenceofthekitchen,holdingontoeachotherwhiletheChristmasmusicdriftsallaroundus,ImakehertheonlypromiseIknowhowtomake.
“IfIfindsomethinglikeyouandDadhad,thelastthingI’lldoisletitgetawayfromme.”CHAPTER10CARTER’SPALACEOFLOVEOLIVIA
Thisisthekindofhouseyouseeinmagazines,thekindyouspendyourlifedreamingof.Wheretheideathatsomethinglikethiscouldonedaybeyoursisn’tsofar-fetched.
NestledbackinagatedcommunityinNorthVancouver,withadrivewaythatIswearspansthelengthofmyhighschool,thesprawlingtwo-storyhousesitsatthebaseofMountFromme.Largegraystone,slatebluesiding,andwoodenpillarsworktogethertomakethishomethemasterpieceitis,andthebackdropbehindit—theseaofdarkgreenforestcappedwithsnow,thepeaksofthemountaintop,thetrillionsofstarsyoucan’tseeanywhereelse—makesitutterlybreathtaking.
“Yougonnastandouthereallnightorcomein?”
IdragmygazeoffthebackdropandtrytoignorethebutterfliesthateruptinmybellywhenIfindCarteronthefrontporch,leaningagainstapillar,hishandstuckedinhispockets,andaneasysmileonhisfaceashewatchesme.
I’mnotsureI’veeverbeensoattractedtohimasIaminthismoment.Dark,fitteddenim,anddeepgreenandblueplaidbutton-up,untuckedandwiththesleevesrolled.Hiswarmchestnutwaveslayinatousledmessatophishead,andhe’ssoeffortlesslyhandsomeitnearlyhurts.
Hetipshisheadinthedirectionofthefrontdoor.“CaraandEmleftyououtheretofendforyourself.”
“Soyouthoughtyou’dsaveme?”
HisgringrowsasItakeafewstepstowardhim,andhestraightensoffthepillar.“Nah.I’mtheoneyouneedsavingfrom.”
“Ah,right.Big,badCarter.”
Heliftsanarm,flexinghisbicep,andrightafterhekissesit,hepumpshisbrows.“Iambig.”
IclimbthetwostepstotheporchandenjoythewayhiseyesgleamwhenIstepintohim.“Butyou’renotallthatbad,areyou?”
“Sobad,”hemurmurs.
“Really?”Irunthetipofmyfingeralongthecollarofhisshirt.“Becausethere’sapictureofyouwithOlafpaintedonyourcheekthatsaysdifferently.”
Hisgazedarkens.“Don’tremindmeyouhadmynumberpaintedonyoulastweek.”
Myfingerscurlaroundhisshirt,bringinghimcloserasIwhisper,“ThefirstthingIdidwhenIgothomewasscrubthatbadboyrightoff.”
Aferalsoundrumblesdeepinhisthroatashiseyesnarrow,andwithasnicker,Ibackaway,peeringaroundthecoveredporch.
“Thishouseisinsane.”
“Iknow.”Hezeroesinonmydressbeneathmyopencoat.“Soisthatdress.”Heholdshissleeveuptomystomach.“Wematch.”
“Lookslikewedo.”Iwon’ttellhimIslippedonthisdresstonightbecausethecolorremindedmeofhiseyes.
“Comeon.”Heslingsanarmaroundmyshoulderandleadsmetowardthedoor.“Beforeyoufreezeandwehavetostripdownandrelyonbodyheatandcuddlingtowarmyoubackup.”
“CarterBeckettdoesn’tcuddle,”Ireply,lookingwithwonderaroundtheexpansivefrontfoyer.It’sasgrandinsideasitisoutside,andeverythingfeels…right.Homeyandwarm,liketheonlyplaceyou’dbecontenttobeduringasnowstorm,snuggleduponthecouchinyourpj’swithyourhotchocolate,aclassicDisneymovie,andthepeoplewhomattermost.
“I’dcuddlewithyou.”
Ipropafistonmyhip.“You’repullingoutallthestops,aren’tyou?”
Carterdropshisfaceashechuckles,onehandonthebackofhishead.Insteadofresponding,hestartspeelingmycoatfrommybody,andIshiftthecontainerinmylefthandtomyrightwhenherequiresthatarm.
“What’sthis?”heasks,takingitfrommeoncehehangsmycoat.
“It’snothingspecial.They’rebacon-wrappedwaterchestnutswithasweetandspicyglaze.They’re—”Istopmidsentence,watchingashetossesoneinhismouth,humming.
“Sogood,”hemumbles,tonguerunningalonghislowerliptocatchthelingeringsauce.
“Youareanever-endingpit,aren’tyou?”
Thelopsidedsmilehegivesmebrewsafireinmybelly,andhisnextwordsstokeit.“Icangoallnight,baby.”
Iclearthelumpofdesireinmythroat.“They’reforthehost.Carasaidallthefood’sbeencateredin,butIthoughtI’dbringsomethinganywayasathank-youforhavingme.”
“Oh.Well,thankyou.Andyou’rewelcome.”Hetakesmyhandandmakestodragmedownthehallway.
“What?”Myeyesmovearoundthefoyeroncemore,andthistimeIfocusonthefacesinthephotos.Thoughhe’smanyyearsyoungerinmostofthem,I’drecognizethatfaceanywhere.“Thisisyourhouse?”
“Uh-huh.AsdazzlingasIam,don’tyathink?”
“It’s…it’sbeautiful.Whydidn’tyoutellmeitwasyourhousewhenyouinvitedme?”
“Didn’tI?”Heshrugsandtakesmyhandagain,tugging.“Ohwell.Let’s—”
“Waitasecond.”
Carter’sbodystillsandhelooksattheground.Theexpressionhewearsiscautiousandnervousasheslowlyswivelsmyway,likeheknowsexactlywherethisisgoing.
“Ithoughtyouhadacondodowntown.Yousaidyoucouldcarrymethereonyourbackineightminutes.”
“Right.Idid,uh,saythat.”
“OramImistaken?”
“No,you’renot,uh…”Hisarmlifts,palmscrubbingthebackofhisneck.“Idohaveacondodowntown.Ijustdon’tlivethere.Ilivehere.”
Mynosescrunches.“Thenwhywouldyouhaveacondo?”
Icantellhedoesn’twanttoanswer.Ormaybehejustdoesn’tknowwhattosay.Themanlookslikeadeercaughtinheadlights.
Iliftmybrows,waiting,andmygazeflickerstoGarrettashecomestrottingdownthestaircase.“Carter?Whydoyouhaveacondoifyoudon’tlivethere?”
“Condo?”Garrettrepeats,quicklywrappingmeinahugandclappingCarteronthebackashemovesbyus.“YoumeanCarter’sPalaceof—”Heslamshisjawshut,brighteyeswideashisgazericochetsbetweenus.
“Carter’sPalaceofwhat?”Iurge
“Don’t,”Carterwarnshimlowly.“Don’tyoudare.”
Abeatofsilencestretchesbetweenus,thetensionpalpable.
“Love,”Garrettbarelywhispers.“Carter’sPalaceofLove.”HecowersfromCarter’smenacingstarebeforedashingdownthehallway,callinghisapologyoverhisshoulder.“I’msorry,okay?Idon’tliewellunderpressure!Don’thurtme!”
Withmyarmspinnedacrossmychest,IholdCarter’sstare.Hisisamixtureofafraidandamused.Heshouldn’tbeamused.Heshouldbe100percentterrified,becauserightnowI’mthinkingofkickinghisass.
“Outofcuriosity,whatlinewereyougoingtofeedmeifGarretthadn’taccidentallyoutedyouforhavingaPalaceofLove,whereyoutakeallyourspecialfriends?”
“They’renotmyspecialfriends.They’renotevenmyfriends.You’remyfriend.Andyou’respecial.”
Ohfortheloveof—“Carter.”
Hecringes.“MaybeIwould’vetoldyouIsoldit?”
“Oh,soyouwould’velied?”
“What?Ugh.”Hesighs,slumping.“No,Iwouldn’thavelied.”
“Soyou’dhavetoldmethetruth,thatyouhaveacondodowntownforeasyaccesstofuckafteryourgames?”
“No,I—ahhh.”Heclapsbothhandstohisface,rubbingthemup,thendraggingthemdowninslowmotion.“Thisfeelslikeatrap.Youwouldn’thavelikedeitherofthoseanswers.”Hischestinflateswithhisdeepbreath,andheletsitoutwithalowwhoosh.“Iwould’vetoldyouthatyou’rethefirstwomanI’veeverhadtomyhousewhohasn’tbeenafamilymemberorafriend’sgirlfriend.ThatI’mhappytohaveyouhere,notthere,andtospendsometimegettingtoknowyoubettertonight.”
Iknowwhathe’sdoing.He’stryingtodeflectfromthenegative,toturnhisfuckpadintoapositivebecauseI’mthespecialonewho’smadeithereinstead.Heseemsgoodatthat,seeingthepositives,evenifrightnowit’stotalkhimselfoutofacorner.ButthetruthisI’veneverbeenverygoodatbeinganoptimist.I’mnotapessimist,either,oratleastIdon’tthinkso.IthinkI’mjustarealist.Iseebothsides,orInormallytryto.
Hetucksmycontainerunderhisarmandtakesmyhandsinhis,steppingintome.“Canyouforgetaboutallthepreconceivedbullshitfortonight?Onenight,Ollie.IknowI’vegotareputation,andIknowI’mnotanangel.Let’spretendnoneofthatexistsandenjoyourdate.”
“It’snotadate,”Iremindhim.
“Andwe’llpretendthatyou’renotjealous.”
Sigh.Andhewasdoingsowell.
Iflickhiscollarbonebeforestruttingbyhim.“Getoveryourself,Beckett.”
Hisheartychuckletrailsbehindme,andofthesentencehemutterstohimself,Ionlycatchthewordsassanddress.
Iswivelonmyheels.“Whatdidyousay?”
Thegrinheflasheshasmebelievinghe’sthedevilinchiseledmarble.There’snotaninnocentboneinthatmuscledbodyofhis.
“Isaidyoulookstunningtonightinthatdress.”That’snotremotelyclosetowhathesaid.
Longfingerslacingthroughmine,hetugsmealongbehindhim.
“C’mon,pip-squeak.Let’sgohaveadrink.”
Ican’tthinkofamoreawful,stupid,deliriouslyalluringidea.
Sonaturally,Ifollowhim.
***
Icoulddieahappywomaninthiskitchen.
Idon’tknowifit’sthesprawlingmidnightbluecabinets,thebrickbacksplash,thedouble-walloven,theshinymarblecountertops,orthestonefireplaceinthelivingroomthat’svisiblefromhere.AllIknowisifItookmylastbreathstandingrighthere,thatwouldbeokay.
“Youlooklikeyou’reinheaven.”
Afizzyreddrinkappearsinfrontofme,cranberriesandlimesbobbingaround,andIwastenotimebringingtheglasstomylips,hummingasIsipthesweetnectar.
“Thankyou,”ImurmurtoCarterashedropstohiselbowsbesidemeattheisland.“I’mprettysureIhavethiskitchensavedonmydreamhomePinterestboard.”
“What’saPinterest?”
“What’sa—”Sighing,Ishakemyhead.“Nevermind.”
BeforeIhavetimetocontemplatethewayhisgringoesfromself-assuredtoalittlewobbly,Carterpullsopenadrawer.Hishandswallowsasmallbrownpackage,andheclearshisthroat.
“Hey,um,thisismaybekindaweird,butIgotyousom—”
“Olivia!”
Carterslamsthedrawer,thepackagedisappearinginside,hischeeksignitingasAdamyanksmeintohisside,andI’mdyingtoknowwhat’sinthere.
“Cartersaidyouwerecoming,butnoneofusbelievedit.”
Garrettraiseshishand.“Isaidyou’dbehere.Beteveryoneahundredbucks.”Hepullsawadofhundredsoutofhisjeans,fanningthemathisface.“Thanksforshowingup.”
Emmettpullsonebillfreeandstuffsitinmyhand.“Olliegetsoneofthesesinceshemadeithappen.”
Carastealsabill.“AndIgetonebecauseIbroughther.”
“Stupidstipulations,”Garrettgrumbles,tuckinghismoneyawaybeforeanyoneelsecanclaimsome.
CarapatsAdam’sshoulder.“Didyouknowyou’reLiv’sfavoriteViper?”
Hisfacelightsupashestandsabittaller,runningapalmdownhisproudchest.“Really?Me?”
“Yep.”IignorethelookofshockandbetrayalCarterwears.“You’relikeabrickwalloutthere.”I’malsoprettysureAdam’sthesweetestmanintheleague.Everytimehe’scomplimentedinapostgameinterview,hegetsallshyandlooksawayfromthecamera.
“Ollieplayedhockeyforfifteenyears,”Cartertellshim.
“Really?”Adameyesmeupanddown.“Iwantyoutotellmeyouwereagoalie,butyou’refuckingtiny.”Hefoldshislipsintohismouth.“I’msorry.Tiny’snotabadthing,it’sjust—”
“Notgoodforagoalie,Igetit.ItriedforayearwhenIwaseight.”Mynosewrinkles.“Itwastheworst.I’mnotbuiltfortheguiltthatcomeswithlosing.I’mtoosensitiveandcouldn’tseparatemyselffromtheloss.I’dcrytheentirecarridehomebecauseI’dblamemyself.”
Adamnodsandgesturesallaroundhim,toCarter,Garrett,andEmmett,totherestofhisteammatessprinkledthroughoutthehouse.“Somelossesareharderthanothersbutit’salwaysabiteasierwhenI’vegottheseguystoliftmeupafter.”
“Isyourgirlfriendhere?Ihaven’tmether.”
“Oh,uh…”Adampalmshisnape.“No,shewasn’tfeelinguptoittonight.Maybenexttime.She’dloveyou.”
You’llhateher,Caramouthsoverhisshoulder,andthelooknearlyeveryoneelsewears,includingCarter,tellsmethesame.
“I’lllookforwardtomeetingher.”InudgeGarrett.“Whataboutyou?Anyonespecial?”
“Nuh-uh.”Hegivesmealazygrinandawink.“Why,youlookin’foramidnightkiss?”
Carterscoffs,sweepinghisarmsout.“Youcan’tkissmydateatmidnight!”
“ForGod’ssake,Carter,thisisn’tadate.”
“Youcan’tkissmynot-a-real-date-but-actually-is-a-real-dateatmidnight!”
Rollingmyeyes,IburymysmilebehindthehandIdragdownmyface.
Garrettleansintome,mouthclosetomyear.“Fulldisclosure,I’vegotfivehundredbucksridingonyoukissinghimatmidnight.”
BeforeIcanrespond,aneruptionofcheercomesfromthediningroom,andGarrettclapshishandstogether.
“C’mon,Liv.Let’splaybeerpong.”Hetowsmetowardthecrowdedroomwhereagorgeousspaltedmapletableiscoveredinredcupsandping-pongballs.“Youcanbemypartner.We’llmakeCarterandAdamweep.”
Cartertrailsinbehindus,handstuckedinhispockets,andIfollowhisglowertoGarrett’shandwrappedaroundmyhip.
Ohmy.Mr.Beckettisjealous.
Hisgazeflipstomeetmine,andasmirktugsatthecornerofhismouth.HesauntersovertomewhileGarrettandAdamfillsixcupseachwithbeer,arrangingthemintheshapeofatriangleonoppositeendsofthetable.
Hisfierystareburnseveryplaceonmybodyittouches.“Caretomakethisinteresting?”
Myfingersrunupthelineofhisbuttons.“Whatdidyouhaveinmind?”
Hisgazebouncestomymouth.“Iwin,andIgetyourmidnightkiss.”
MybreathsnagsinmythroatandCarasnickers.It’sbeenafewyears,mindyou,butinuniversity,CaraandIwerethequeensofthebeerpongtable.Wewententirelyundefeatedoursophomoreandjunioryear.
“AndifIwin?”
“Youwon’t.Mymotivationistoohigh.”
Iadmirehistenacity;I’llgivehimthatmuch.Trailingmyfingerdownhistorso,Istopjustabovethewaistbandofhisjeans.Mysingledrinkhasgonestraighttomyhead,becauseI’mseriouslyconsideringthepossibilityofmestickingmyhanddowntherelater.“Humorme.”
Hisgreeneyestwinklewithdelight.“Whatwouldyoulike?”
I’dloveafootrubandtobepolitelyrailedintothenewyearifI’mbeinghonest,buttherequestthatcomesoutofmymouthissomuchtamer.“YouhavetotakemetoseeFrozenII.”I’mdyingtoseeitandIfigurehe’dratherbecaughtdeadthanatapublicmovietheaterwithagirl,watchingaDisneyprincessmovie.
Thegrouparoundusgroans,asiftheyknowsomethingIdon’t.
TheskinaroundCarter’seyescrinkles,hiswidesmilepullingthosedimplesrightin.“Deal.”Hisfingerspushbacktheloosecurlshangingdownthesideofmyface,tuckingthembehindmyear,wherehishandslipstomynapeashehaulsmecloser.“Joke’sonyou,Ol.”Hetouchesatender,barely-therekisstomyjaw,warmbreathdustingdownmyneck,makingmetremble.“IloveDisneymoviesandIgettotakeyouonadate.”Ashewalksaway,bouncingtheping-pongballoffthetable,headds,“NowIwin,regardlessoftheoutcomeofthisgame.”
Carterisgood,asexpected.SoareAdamandGarrett.
ButI’mbetter
WhenGarrettandIwinthefirstgame,Carterquicklydeclaresit’sabestofthreescenario.Andwhenwewinthesecondgame,too,it’ssuddenlythebestthreeoutoffive.
WhenIsinkthefirstballduringthethirdround,Garrettliftsmeintotheairwhilethecrowdwe’vegatheredaroundushollers.
“I’veneverseenCarterloseatanythingsomanytimesinarowbefore,”Garrettwhisperswhenhedropsmebacktotheground,hishandonmyback.
MyeyeslifttomeetCarter’sdarkones,alreadylockedonus,analmostimperceptibletickinhisjaw.Ican’ttellifit’slosingthat’sbroughtonthisresponse,orthewayGarrett’sbeensoblatantlyflirtingwithmetheentiretime.
Ping-pongballssoarthroughtheairaswetradepointsbackandforthforthenextseveralminutes,sloshingliquidalloverthefancytable,untilthereareonlytwocupsleftoneachside.WithtensionshighandCarterupnext,Emmettcallsouttome.
“Eh,Ollie,holdup!Youdroppedsomething!”
Havinglefteverythingwithmycoat,Ipeerupathiminconfusion.Hisbrowsquirk,andIfollowhispointingfingertoawholeshitloadofnothingbeforehehitsmewithasneakywink.
Messagereceived
Look,I’mawoman.Imaybesmall,butwhatIlackinheightImakeupforinhipsandcurves.I’vealsobeentoldIhaveakillerass,somethingCaralikestoremindmeofoftenwithagentlepat-patwhenevershestrollsbyme.
Itendtobealittleself-consciousaboutthesoftnessofmyedges,theroundnessofmyass,allthingsthathavecomeviaahealthyobsessionwithspendingendlesshoursscrollingthroughdessertsonPinterest,orwatchinginspirationalbakingvideosonInstagram,andthentryingtorecreatethem.Butthetruthismostmenfindallthosedipsandcurvesirresistible.
AndCarterBeckett?He’sdefinitelymostmen.
Inotethewayhe’spoisedoverthetable,gazeflittingbetweenthecuphe’saimingatandme.WhenIsmile,hesmilesback,softandsweet.IalmostfeelbadforwhatI’mabouttodo.
Almost
Turningmybackonhim,Ibendover,rightdowntotheground,lingeringthereforamoment,justlongenoughtohearwhatIwanttohear.
Ping…ping…ping
“Fuck!”
Adamchucksaping-pongballoffthetable.“Areyoufuckingkiddingme,Beckett?Yougotdistractedbyanass!”
Hedragsbothhandsdownhisfacebeforegesturingatme.“It’sonebangin’ass!”
Carter’swaywardballrollstomyfeetandIshootup,holdingitabovemyhead.“Gotit!”
Adamgentlybangshisforeheadoffthewall,groaning,andCarter’swearingthesexiestscowlI’veeverseen.Thealcoholinmedaresmetokissitrightoff.
Emmettclapsmyhand,howlingwithlaughter,andGarrettgrabsmyface,kissingmyforeheadwithaloudsmack.Hesinkshisownshotwithease,thenproceedstorubmyshoulderswhilehetalksstrategyinmyear.
“Justtakeitslow.Takeadeepbreath.Don’trushyourshot.We’vegotitinthebag.Anycup,Liv,anycup.”
HestepsawayandCaradartsin,slappingahandtomyass.“Let’sgo,baby!”
IsetmyeyesonthecupIwantandgetintoposition.I’mconfident,andIknowit’swarranted.
“Oh,Carter?”Icall,andhismouthquirksashewatchesme.“Iwentahundredandeightgamesundefeatedinuniversity.”Eyeslockedonhis,Isendtheballsoaring,arrogantgrindetonatingmyfacewhenIhearthatplopasitsinksintohisdrink,thecrowdaroundusexplodingwithcheers.
Adamsinkstothefloor,Cartergripstheedgeofthetable,droppinghisheadwithagrowl,andGarrettspinsmeinhisarms.
DrunkmerealizeswhateverI’mfeelingforCarterismuchmorethananattractiontoallhissexybits,andIdon’treallyknowwhattodowiththat.Logictellsmetorun,toshutitdownbeforeitbecomesmore,becausethismanwillbreakme.IllogicsaysEh,fuckit,let’sgiveitashot
I’mnotsurewhichonewillwin,buttheboldpartofmeswingstwoarmsaroundhisneckandsays,“Howdoesitfeeltolose,bigboy?”
Somethingdauntingandferalflashesinhiseyes,andhispalmslidesovermycollarbone,fingerswrappingtenderlyaroundthebaseofmythroat.
“Trustme.ThelastthingI’vedoneislost.”CHAPTER11FINALCOUNTDOWNCARTER
“Yougotyourasshandedtoyou.”
“Byagirl.”
“Byatinygirl.”
“Threetimesinarow.”
“Howdoesthatfeel,Carter?”
Ishovemyhandinaface.I’mnotsurewhose,becauseeverysingleoneofmyfriends’faceshasbeeninmineinthelastthirtyseconds,afterIwatchedOlivia’sassdisappearbehindthebathroomdoor.“Shutup.No,Ididn’t.Ifeelfine.Ididn’t—shedidn’t—fuck.”Iholdmypalmsup,halfshrug,halfsurrender.“Okay,butisittechnicallylosingif—”
“Yes.”
Ifrown.“Okay,wellyoudidn’tallhavetosayitatonce.”IlookatCara.She’scheckingoutherpointedredfingernails.“Youknew.”
Blueeyesfliptomine.“Knewwhat,fuckboy?”
“Thatshewasgonnawin.”
“Yeah,Iknew.OfcourseIknew.Shewasmybeerpongpartnerforfouryears.Girlcandoameankegstandtoo.”Shegivesmeapatronizingpatonmychest.“Nokissforyou.”
“I’mgonnakissthefuckouttaherinthebackrowatthemovies.”
Caraguffaws.“YouthinkItrustyoutobealonewithmybestieinthedark?No,Idon’tthinkso.EmandIarecomingwithyou.”
“Noyou’renot.”
“Yesweare.”ShegesturesatAdamandGarrett.“Youboyswannacometoo?”
Garrettgroans.“IhadtotakemysisterstoseeitoverChristmas.”
“Perfect,soyou’rein.And—”
“Nobody’scoming,”Igrowl.“Youtrustme.”IfIsayitlikeIbelieveit,maybeCarawillbelieveittoo.
Caralaughs.It’soneofthosedramaticcondescendingones,thekindthatkeepsgoingandgoing.Sheslapsatherthighandwipesbeneathhereyes.“Carter,Iloveyou,butthelastthingIdoistrustyouwithmybestfriend.”
Isweepmyarmsout.“Well,whatthefuck?Whynot?”Iwouldn’ttrustme,either,ifI’mbeinghonest.It’snotthatIhavebadintentions,it’sjustthatIkinda…don’treallyknowwhattheyare,atleastnotpastspendingtimewithher.
“Idon’twanttosaysomethingmean.”
“Justsayit,Care.I’mabigboy.”
Sheheavesasigh.“Ifmanwhorewereawordinthedictionary,you’dproudlyposeforthephoto.IfOliviagoesoutwithyou,kissesyou,whathaveyou,it’sbecauseshehasfeelingsforyouandshewantstoexplorethem.Youdoallthosethingsforfunwithpeopleyoudon’tknow,peoplewhomeannothingtoyou.I’mnotsayingyou’rewrong;ifthat’swhatyouwanttodo,yougoaheadanddoyou.I’mjustsayingthataslongasyou’reontwototallydifferentpages,ifyouplanondoingthesamethingyou’vebeendoingallthistime,chancesareshe’sgoingtoendupgettinghurt.”
“AndifI’mnot?IfI’mnotplanningon…on…”Christ,Ican’tevenfinishthesentence.Thethoughtaloneofanythingmorethanacasualfuckmakesmyskincrawl,mythroattight.
WhatifIfuckitup?WhatifI’mterribleatit?WhatifIhurther?
“Whydoeshelooklikethat?”
“Idon’tknow.Helookskindalikeasad,lostpuppy.”
“Looksmorelikeconstipationtome.”
Adamslingsanarmovermyshoulders,pullingmecloser.“Leavemyguyalone.He’sgotacrush,that’sall.”
Acrush?Mythroatsqueezesagain.“Psssh.NoIdon’t.”DoI?
“Youdo,Carter.That’swhyyouhaven’tleftthebarwithasinglewomanlately.”
“MaybeIneededabreak.I’vebeentired.”
“That’swhyyouboughtOliviacinnamonbunsandcheesecakeandtalkedherintogettingherfacepaintedwithyoulastweek.That’swhyyoustoodtherewithyourarmsaroundherduringthetreelighting,justbecausesheshivered,andthat’swhyyouinvitedhertoapartyatyourhouse,eventhoughyouneverhavemeaninglesshookupsatyourhouse.BecauseOliviameanssomethingtoyou,andyou,myfriend,haveacrush.”
Well,fuckmesideways.Hemightberight.
Whatthehelldoyoudowithacrush?
***
Youfollowherintothebathroom,that’swhatyoudowithacrush.
Well,Ididn’tfollowherin.She’salreadyinside,andI’mwaitingoutheretosurpriseher.
ThedooropensandOliviaslipsout,headdown.
“He’sjustaman,”she’sbusymumblingtoherself.“Aninsanelybeautifulandirritatingman.”
Oh,Ilikewherethisisgoing.Myhandswraparoundherwaist—justone,actually;theotherclapsoverhermouthtostifleherscream—andIwalkherbackintothebathroom,hittingthelockbehindus.
“JesusChrist,Carter.”SheswatsmyshoulderwhenIreleaseher,thenswipeshersoftbrowncurlsoffherface.“Whyareyoualwayssneakinguponme?”
“Ifyou’dlookwhereyouweregoing—”
“Don’tblamethisonme!”
“Blameimpliesguiltforsomethingdonewrong,andIdon’tthinkthere’sanythingwrongaboutusbeinghererightnow.Nowbacktowhatyouweresayingaboutthatinsanelybeautifulman.”
Ishouldstartkeepingtrackofhowoftensherollsthoseeyesorplantsherfistsonhercurvyhips.Theydrawattentiontoalltherightareasbutallthewrong—sowrong—ideas.
Hereyesarethewarmestshadeofbrownwithtinyflecksofgold,likesmooth,meltedchocolate,andwhenshepeersupatmefrombeneaththosethick,darklashes,allIcanpictureisthewayshe’dlookbelowme,oureyeslockedwhileIbringherrighttotheedgebeforeinevitablythrowingusbothover.
Andthosehips—fuckme,thosehips.Wideandfull,leadinguptoateensywaistanddowntoastellar,roundass.AllIwanttodoisgrabholdofthosehips,burnmyfingerprintsrightintothemasIpinhertothemattressanddriveinsideofher,watchingherfighttobreatheasmynameleavesherlips.
“Ialsosaidirritating,”shefinallyretorts,thatairofconfidenceback.“Ordidyourselectivehearingkickin?Andhey.”Sheclapsinmyfacethengesturesatherown.“I’muphere,Beckett.”
“Justadmiringyourdress.”I’vedoneitatleastahundredtimestonight.It’sadeep,forestgreenthatclingstoeverydip,leavinglittletotheimagination,exceptwhetherornotsheblushesallover.IhopeonedayIgettofindout.
“Isthatwhyyoutrappedmeinthebathroom?”
“Nah,Itrappedyoubecausethere’snowayyouwould’vewillinglyletmecomeinherewithyouifI’dasked.”Leaningbackagainstthesink,Iinclinemyheadtowardtheedgeofthebathtub.“Nowsityourassdownsowecantalk.”
Shesits,butshesureashelldragsherassaboutit,andIsmileatherbarefeet,hersparklygoldtoenails.SheditchedherheelsaboutthreesecondsintothefirstroundofbeerpongandIhaveafeelingtheywon’tbemakingitbackon.
“Don’tlikebeingtoohighofftheground,huh?”
Hernosescrunchesinthemostadorablewaywhenshegiggles.“Ihateheels,period.Iwastryingtobeclassy,butthetruthisI’vespentmostofmyChristmasbreakinsweats,andIkindawishI’dwornthemtonight.So,Idecidedtolosetheheels.”
“Ihavesomesweatsifyouwanttochange.Icantakeyouupstairsandshowyouwheretheyare.”
“Howkindofyou.AndIassumethey’reinyourbedroom?”
“Yep.They’dbebigonyou,soI’dneedtohelpyoudresstomakesurewecinchthemjustright,obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“Wewouldn’twantthemtoaccidentallyfalloff.”
“OhGodno.Thatwouldbeadisaster.I’djustbestandingthereinmypanties.”
Irunahandacrossmyjawandliftashoulder.“AndthenI’dneedtowrapyouinmybody,carryyourightbackuptomybedroomsonobodycouldseeyou.Honestly,it’sgivingmetheheebie-jeebiesjustthinkingaboutit.Weshouldprobablystayinthebedroomwherewe’resafe.”Istand,offeringhermyhandandheavingadrawn-outsigh.“C’mon,Ol.Let’sgo.”
Awidegrinblooms,brighteningeverybitofherface,thesharpangleofhercheekbones,theslopeofhernose,thebowofhertoplip,andwhenshesmacksmyhandaway,Ichuckleandsinkdownbesideher.
OliviawatchesthewayIspreadmyhandoutrightnexttohers,andwhenmypinkyslidesagainsthers,shedoesn’tmoveaway.Instead,shelicksherlips.“Garrettbetonuskissing.”
“Yeah,Iknow.Ididn’ttakethebet.”
Hergazeshineswithmirth.“You,Mr.Confident,didn’tbetonyourselfgettingamidnightkiss?Whynot?”
“BecauseIdon’tbetagainstmyself,butIdon’tliketoloseeither.Ican’tgetagoodreadonyou.Atfirst,youdidtheoppositeofeverythingIexpectedyoutodo.Youturnedmedown,toldmetogofuckmyself,slammedthedoorinmyface,andthelastthingyouwantedtodowasspendanytimewithmeatall.ButnowI’mgettingbetteratfiguringyouout,likesomeofthestuffIthinkyou’refeeling,andyousmileatmemoreandlaughalot,butthatmeansIseeyourconfusionaswellasyoudo.Youdon’tknowwhatyou’regoingtodountilyoudoit,soIhavenofuckingclueanymore.”
“AndwhatamIconfusedabout?”
Ishrug.“Me.Maybeyou’rewonderingwhichversionofmeistherealone,andwhetherit’sokaytolikethatversion.”
Olivia’sgripontheedgeofthetubtightensasshestaresathertoes.“Hmm.”
Inudgehershoulderwithmine.“DidIhitthenailontheheadoramIwayoffaboutwhat’sgoingonherebetweenus?”
Sheblinksatme.“Youdon’tlikeme,Carter.”
“IthinkIdo,yeah.”
Herwideeyesmovebetweenmine,searching,andwhenshelaughs,it’stheexhausted,frustratedkind.“Youcan’tevensaythewords.”
Iswallowthetightnessinmythroatthatfeelsalittlebitlikefearandtryagain.“Ilikeyou,Olivia.”
Somethinginherexpressionjarsme.It’stenderbutguarded,lostbutbeggingtobefound.Shewantsanswers,butshe’snotsureshe’llbuythem.“Howdoyouknowyoulikeme?”
“BesidesthefactthatmychestgottightwheneverGarrettwastouchingyou?”
Shecocksherhead.“Youwerejealous?”
“I’veneverreallybeenjealousbeforesoIcan’tsayforsure,butIbrieflythoughtaboutdecapitatingmyright-winger,so,yeah,IthinkIwas.”
Warmeyesholdmineforaquietbeatofsilence.“I’msorry,”shemurmurs.“Iwouldneverknowinglyputyouinthatposition.Youmustrealizetheironyofthesituationthough,no?Yousawanothermanwithhishandsonmeonce.Twicewe’vebeenatabartogetherwhereyou’veexpressedinterest,andtwiceyou’veendedupwithanotherwoman’shandsonyou.”Sheholdsupahand,stoppingmebeforeIcanarguewithher.“Itjusthappens,Iknow.Butithappensbecausethat’sthenarrativeyou’vecreatedforyourself,Carter.Imean,howmanywomenhaveyousleptwithsincewemet?”
“None,”Ianswertruthfullyandwithouthesitation.
Asnortofdisbelief.“Bullshit.”
“WhatreasonwouldIhavetolie?”
“Togetmeintobed.”Theduhhangsheavyintheairbetweenus.
“I’veneverneededtolietogetawomanintobedbefore.”Irealizehowitsoundsassoonasit’soutofmymouth,butbythenOliviaisalreadyonherfeetandhalfwaytothedoor.Myfingerscircleherwrist,stoppingher.“Stop.Stay,please.”Irunanaggravatedhandthroughmyhair.“Look,Idon’tknowhowtotalkaboutthiskindofstuff,whichishardforme,becauseIdon’tfiltermywordsbeforetheyleavemymouth,butifyougivemeaminute,I’llgetthere.”
Iwaitforhertositbackdown,andthentryagain.
“WhatImeanisI’veneverneededtolieabouthowmanywomenI’vebeenwith.It’sneverbeenasecretbecauseofthewayI’velivedmylife.Womenknowwhattoexpectwithme.Andyouknow,clearly,becauseI’mprettysurethat’sthereasonyou’vebeendeadsetonavoidingmeliketheplague.WhywouldIlienow?It’sgonnagetmenowherewithyou.You’lljustaddliartothelistofconsundermyname.”
Shenibblesthecornerofherlip.“Idon’t…I’mnotkeepingscoreoranything.”
“That’sbullshitandyouknowit.TheoddswerestackedagainstmethemomentIapproachedyou.”
“Well,tobefair—”
“Yes,Iaskedyoutogobacktomycondoandfuck,Iknow.Notagreatfirstimpression.IfIcouldtakeitback,Iwould.”
“Why?”
Ispreadmylegs,restingmyelbowsonmythighs.“Becausethenmaybeyoucouldgetpastalltheothershitandwecouldmoveforward.”
Shehonestlycouldnotlookmoreconfused.She’salsoseriouslylackingintermsofsassycomebacks.PartofmeworriesI’vebrokenher.“Whatintheworldareyoutalkingabout?”
Igesturebetweenus.“This.Meandyou.”Idriveahandthroughtheairlikeanarrow.“Forward.”
“Isthereameandyou,Carter?Aforward?”
“I…”Myshouldersfeeltautandcramped,andmybodyitchestomove,tofleebeforeIcanbringmyselfanydeeper.Instead,Iholdhersmallhandinmine,mythumbsweepingovertheblushpolishonherfingernails.“Ithinkso.”
“Youthinkso,”Oliviarepeatsslowly.Hergazerisescautiously,meetingmine.“Idon’thavetimeforIthinkso’s.Northeenergytowaitaroundwhileyoufigureoutwhatyouwantfromme,especiallywhenthechancesareprettydamnhighthatyoufigureoutacoupleweeksdowntheroad,onceI’malreadyinwellovermyhead,thatwhatyouwantisnotarelationship.”
MyexpressionmustholdallthedisappointmentIfeel,becauseherwarmhandcupsmycheek,guidingmygazebacktohers.
“I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantosoundrude.I’mjustnotsureifyouunderstand,Carter.We’reworldsapart.”
Mygazefloatsdownherface,overherhighcheekbones,thedaintyfrecklesthatpainthernose.She’ssobeautiful,sometimesIthinkithurts.“Arewe?”Ifinallyask.
“Aren’twe?Wewantdifferentthings.”
“Whatifwedon’t?”
“Canyoutellmehonestlythatwhatyouwantisaserious,committedrelationship?BecauseIdon’tdocasual,Carter.I’mnotbuiltforit,andIhavenodesiretowastemytimeonsomethingthatdoesn’thavethepotentialtomoveforward.”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmit.“AllIknowisbeingwithyouherefeelsnice,anditfeltnicelastweektoo.Don’tyoufeelittoo?”
Abeatofsilencelingersbetweenus,andmypulsethudsinmyearswhileIwaitforhertoanswer,totellmeI’mnotaloneinthis.
Shebrushesastraywavefrommyforeheadandsmiles.“Ido.Butasitstands,Carter,Ithinkthat’sallwe’reonthesamepagewith.Doesthatmakesense?”
Inodslowly,wettingmylips.“DoesthatmeanifIwantedtotrytobeinarelationship,you’dletmetryitwithyou?”
Alaughgurglesfromherthroat,alittlebitanxious,alittlebitexasperated.“Yourealizeyou’remakingitsoundliketryouts,youknow?Arelationshipissomethingtwopeopletrytogether,yes,butI’mnotatestruntoseeifbeinginarelationshipissomethingyouactuallydesire.Youneedtodecidewhatyouwantfirstbeforeyougoafterthegirl.”
“WhatiftheonlythingI’msureaboutwantingisyou?”
Shesweepsherthumbovertheindentinmychin.“Sometimeswantingsomethingisn’tenough.”
***
Ispendthenexttwohourstryingtopretendlikemygazeisn’texactlywhereitis:gluedtoOlivia.
Iwatchherbecomefriendswithmyfriendssoeffortlessly.Iwatchherputherheelsbackonjusttoditchthemalloveragaintwominuteslaterinmykitchen.Iwatchherdanceanddrinkandplaygames,andIwatchherfuckinglaugh.Fuck,issheeverspectacularwhenshelaughs,headthrownback,eyessqueezedshut,hermilkyskinstainedwithpinkasherloosecurlscascadedownherback.
Irubatmychest,tryingtosoothethetightnessthatstretchesacrossitwhenoneofmyteammatestouchesherlowerback,bendingtowhisperinherear.AllthisjealousyI’mfeelingtonightisthrowingmeoffkilter;Idon’tknowhowtohandleit.
ButOliviacatchesmyeye,thecornerofhermouthliftingasshesidestepsawayfromhim,andforsomereason,that’sit.Forsomereason,Iknow:noisn’tanoptionwhenshe’sinvolved.
BecauseIcandobetter,bebetter,andIcandoitforOlivia.IwanttodoitforOlivia.
Maybethat’swhyIgetawildideawhenRyanSeacresttellsusthere’sonlytwominutestomidnight,eventhoughIlostourbet.
Maybethat’swhymygrinsplitsmyfacewhenIstraightenoffmyspotonthewall,catchingOlivia’swildlyanxiousgaze.She’slookingatme,thenatCara,thendownthehall.Iseetheapprehension,seethewayshespins,handsintheairlikeshehasnoideawhattodo.Shestartsslippingofftowardthehallway,butCaragripsherarm,yankingherback.
Olivia’schocolategazelocksonmine.
Andsuddenlythere’sonlythirtysecondstomidnight.
AndIstartmoving.
Andshe’sstillfreakingthefuckout,feetcementedinplace,eyesgiganticsaucersthatonlygrowrounderwitheachstrideItake,eatingthedistancebetweenus.
Fifteenseconds.
“Carter,”Oliviawhispers,herfingerscrawlingaroundmywristswhenItakeherfaceinmyhands.“Whatareyou…whatareyoudoing?”Hereyesbouncebetweenmine,fullrubylipspartingtolethertonguepeekout,swipingacross,gettingready,becausesheknowsexactlywhatI’mabouttodo.
Ten.
“I-I…Carter,I—”
“Relax,Ollie.”Irakemyfingersthroughhersoftcurls,andwhenIbracketherjawinmyhand,IswearIhearherheartthumping.
Five.
Mythumbskimsherlowerlip.Hereyesflicker.“CanI?”
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Yes.”CHAPTER12“PAYUP.”—GARRETTCARTER
There’sapartofmethatwouldliketosaynothinghappenswhenourlipsfinallymeetforthefirsttime.Thatit’sthesameasitalwaysis:nosparks,noflames.Thatthere’sasinkingfeelinginmystomach,ananchorthatdropstotheverybottomasfastasitcanwhenIrealizethisisnothingnew,thatI’mrightbacktofeelinglikethetypeoflovemyparentsshareddoesn’texistforme,thatI’llneverfindit.ThatI’mokaywiththat,thewayIhavebeenalltheseyears.
Apartofmewouldliketosaythat’swhathappens.
Butit’snot.Ican’tsaythat.
BecausewhenIhaulOliviaintome,whenherhandsslipupmyarms,overmyshoulders,fingersplungingintomyhair,whenourlipstouch—fuckingfinally—myentirebodycomesalive.Myworldexplodeswithcolor,myhandsonherfacetremblingwithdesireandneed,withshock.Iwantmore.Ineedmore.Idon’tseehowI’llevergetenoughofthis,ofher,ofus.She’sadrug,andI’maddictedoffmyveryfirsthit.
Herlipspartonasigh,thehintofvanillaandbrownsugarbeggingmytonguetoreachoutandtakeataste.
SoIdo.Wemeetwithahot,wetsweep,onethatmakesmegroan,andIsinkintothefeelofher,theheatthaturgesmecloser,untilthere’snowherelefttogo.
Everythingaroundusdiesdowntoagentlesimmer,thefranticdrumofmyheartbeatingwildlyagainstmysternumdrownseverythingelseout.Noneofitmattersanyway,nothingexceptthiswomaninmyarms,thewayhermouthmovessofluidlywithmineasIswalloweveryoneofherwhimpers.
OliviapushesforwardandIletherwalkmebackwarduntilmycalveshitachair.WhenIfalltoit,shefallswithme,climbingrightintomylapasherfingersplowthroughmyhair,hangingontight,asifshehasnointentionoflettinggo,whichisexactlyhowIfeelabouther.
It’snotuntilmyhandsslidedownherback,graspherwaisttightly,spurringthattinynipofherteethonmylip,thatI’msuddenlyawaretheroomissilent,saveforthesofthumofthecrowdaroundus.Icrackonelid,Cara’sastonished,irritatedfacethefirstoneIsee.Emmettlooksslightlyscaredbesideher,scaredforme,probably,becausehisgirlfriendcankickmyass.Adamhitsmewithtwothumbsupandaneagergrin,andGarrettstartstryingtocollecthiswinnings.
MyhandssweepthelengthofOlivia’sarmsuntilIfindhersinmyhair.Twiningourfingers,Ipullourhandsbetweenusandpressonemorekisstoherlips.
Andonemorequickone.
Okay,onemore.Justforgoodmeasure,becausefuckme,shetasteslikethebestkindofsin.
“Ollie,”Iwhisperwhenshegoesinforafourth.She’snotdoneyet,whichiscool,becauseI’msofarfrombeingdonewithher.“Ollie,wehavean—”
“Thatwasonehellofafireworksshow,”someonewhoopsout.“I’mfivehundredbucksricher!”
FuckingGarrett.
AndOlivia’seyesflipopen,thesoundshemakesstucksomewherebetweenagasp,awhimper,andaplea,allrolledintoone.
“Oh.”Sheshiftsback,touchingtremblingfingerstoherlips.Herfaceburnsbrightasshetriestoclimboffme.“OhmyGod.”
“Hey.”Smoothingapalmdownherback,Ikeepherinplace.“It’sokay.Justakiss.Notabigdeal.”
Thatdoesn’tdothetrick.Hergazewobblesuntilitdrops,andwhensheswallows,it’ssothickIcanhearit.
“I’msorry,”shewhispers,andbeforeIcanaskwhatfor,sheslipsoffmylapanddisappearsdownthehallwaywithCara.
“Mindyourbusiness,”ItossoutwithoutanyrealheatateveryoneelseasIcrosstheroom,Emmetthotonmyheels.
“Youfuckingkissedher,”hehisses.
“ShesaidIcould,”Ihissrightback.
Heshovesmyshoulder.“Doyoulikeher?”
Ijammyelbowintohisribs.“Yes,Ifuckinglikeher.”
Clappingahandacrossmymouthandpushingmeupagainstthewall,Emmettshushesmeloudly.Heholdsafingertohislipsbeforereleasingmeandgesturingdownthehall,whereCara’svoicefiltersfrom.
“Youlikehim.”It’smoreaccusationthananything.
“OfcourseIlikehim,Cara.He’scharmingandfunnyandmakesmesmileinthisirritatingsortofwayandI’mlosingmydamnmindbecauseI’mtotallyfallingforCarterBeckett.”
Hellyeahsheis.Charming?Check.Funny?Asfuck.Makehersmile?Nobettercompliment.EmmettrollshiseyesasIjerkafistintomysideincelebration.
Oliviakeepsgoing.“Whatthehelliswrongwithme?”
Ouch.Thatkindahurts.AmIreallythatbad?Kindofastupidquestion,allthingsconsidered.I’mnotwhatyou’dcallboyfriendmaterial.
Butmaybe…maybeIcouldbe,forher.I’dliketotry,anyway.
Theirvoicesdisappear,andwhenIpeekaroundthecorner,Ifrown.They’regone,andIdon’tknowwhere.
WhenCarareturnsfiveminuteslater,she’salone.
“Didsheleave?”Shit.Ifuckedthisupsomehow,didn’tI?
Caramakesasoundofannoyance.“What’syourendgamehere,Carter?”
“Endgame?”Whatthehelldoesthatmean?Iwantedtokissher,soIdid.Ilikeherandshelikesme.Whyiseveryonemakingsuchabigdealaboutthis?
“Yes,Carter,endgame.What’syourplan?”
“Iwantto…”Iscratchmyhead.Iwanttoseeheragain.IwanttotakehertothatdamnDisneymovie.Iwanttokisshersomemore,maybesnuggleonmycouchwhilewewatchTVinfrontofthefireplaceandIplaywithherhair,’causeit’ssoftanditsmellsnice.
“Youdon’tevenknowwhatyouwant.”
“That’snottrue.IwantOlivia.”
“Youwanteverygirl.”
“It’snotthesame,Cara.Notwithher.”
It’sneverreallybeenaboutwantingsomuchasit’sbeenaboutsatisfyinganurge,slappingatemporarybandageoveravoid.Becausethetruthis,thoughIpromisedmymomIwouldn’tletalovelikemyparents’getaway,there’sabigpartofmethatnotonlyexpectedtoneverfinditbutdidn’twanttoeither.Whenyoulovesomeonesowholly,itmakesyouweak.Youriskpiecesofyourselfthatyoucan’taffordtolose.
WithOlivia,theachedoesn’tfeelsostartlinglyempty.Idon’tknowwhy,butIdoknowthatmuch.Ialsoknowthatthethoughtalonescarestheshitoutofme.
I’mnotsurewhatCaraseesinme,buttheharshlinesinherexpressionsoften,givingwaytothebigheartshesometimeslikestohide.Withasigh,shetellsmeOliviawentupstairstofindabathroom,totakeabreather,andtogiveheracoupleminutes.
AndIdo.Igiveherfiveminutes,thenten.ThelongerIwaitaround,pretendingtolistentotheconversation,themoreantsyIget.Myheadrollsonmyshoulders,andthefifthtimeIopenmyfridgeforabsolutelynothingatall,Adamsighs.
“Justgogether,man.”
Withasixpackofbeertuckedundermyarms,Itakethestairstwoatatime,checkingeachroomalongthewaydownthehall,andfrownwhenIcomeupempty.There’sapartofmethatworriesshe’sdecidedtoleave,snuckoutthefrontdoor,butthenIrememberherheelsonmykitchenfloor.
Asliverofgoldenlightpoursoutthroughthecrackeddoorattheendofthehall,alongwiththefaintsmellofburningcherrywood,andIpushitopen,slowlysteppingintomybedroom.
TheroomitselfisemptyofthepersonI’mlookingfor,butafrigidgustofwindblowsthroughtheglassdoorsleadingouttomybalcony,sheercurtainsrufflingwiththebreeze,andIfollowthesmelloffireoutside.Andthereontheoutdoorloungersetoppositethebuilt-instonefireplace,curledupbeneathablanket,isjustthepersonI’mlookingfor.
Orangeflameslickuparoundher,illuminatingthesoftlinesofherface,thegentleheaveofherchest,theswellofherlipsasshebreathesdeeply.Withherhandscurledunderherchin,Oliviasleepssoundly,thesweetsightcrushinglikeaweightonmychest.
I’veneverhadawomanherewhoIwantedsomethingfrom.Neverallowedawomantobevulnerableenoughinmyspacetofallasleep.Neverhadtoworksohardtopushdownthelongingthatmakesmeitchtoclimbinbehindher,pullherintomychest,andjustfucking…be
UntilOlivia.
AsIsinkdowntothecushionbesideher,IfindmyselfwonderingifeverythingisalwaysgoingtobeuntilOlivia,ifthisisthatpointinmylifewhereeverythingstartschanging.Thethoughtisasthrillingasitisbothconfusingandfrightening,andIfindmyselfwonderingiftheriskmightbeworththereward.
Oliviastirsslightly,toespressingagainstmythigh,thesharpbiteofherfreezingskinstingingminerightthroughthethickdenim.Coveringherfeetwiththefuzzyblanket,toastyfromthefire,Isqueezehertoesinmyhand,tryingtowarmthembeforethiswestcoastwintercaninflictpermanentdamageonthecutesttoesI’veeverseen.
Herfeetflexinmygraspandherarmsshootoverherheadwithamoanasshestretcheslikeasleepykitten.Darklashesflutter,givingwaytoblearyeyesthecolorofcoffee,andwhenrealizationsinksin,shedropsherheadbacktothecushionwithagroan,faceburiedbehindherpalm.
“Pleasetellmeyoudidn’tcatchmesleepingonthebalconyoffyourbedroom.”
“Ididn’tcatchyousleepingonthebalconyoffmybedroom.”
Shehuffsalaughandsitsup.“Iwasn’tsnoopingoranything.”
“Sohowdidyouendupinmybedroom,andthenonmybalcony,andcurledupbeneathmyblanket,whichwasonmybed,bytheway?”
“I…I…”
Iliftabrow,andheatrushesupherneck,poolinginhercheeks.
“Iwasn’tsnooping,”shepromises,andthat’saboutthelasttimeshetakesabreath.“IwasoverwhelmedandIcouldn’tthinkstraightsoIcameuphereforsomequietandIgotcuriousandthelightswereonandyourbedroomwasn’twhatIwasexpectingandthenIfoundthisandthecoalswerestillhotandthisfuckingview,Carter,it’sabsolutelyincredibleandIwasjuststaringatitandIhopeyou’renotupsetwithmeforinvadingyourprivacyandfallingasleep.”
Upsetwithher?I’mnotupsetwithher.I’mjustfuckingstaringather,watchingasshegoesonandon,thisbreathtakingmasterpiecewho’ssowildlycontradictingwiththewayshespitsfireandsarcasmwhilesimultaneouslycaringtoomuchaboutwhatpeoplethink.
Andhonestly?Ifuckingadoreher.
Takingherhandsinmine,Iwatchherramblingstop,watchhergazeshakewithapprehension.
“Hey,pip-squeak.Takeabreath.Don’tbesorry.”Igesturearoundus,thecracklingflames,theseaofstarsswimminginthenightsky,theendlesstrailofblackpinesleadinguptothepeaksofthemountains.ThisviewrighthereiswhyIboughtthisplotoflandfouryearsago.“Igetit.It’simpossiblenottogetalittlelostwhenyou’relookingoutatallthis.Kindofrealizehowsmallandinsignificantweallare,allourproblems.It’smyfavoriteplacetobewhenIneedtothink,needpeaceandquiet.”WhenIneedtoforgetwhotheworldthinksCarterBeckettisandrememberwhoIactuallyam,orwhoIwanttobe,maybe.
Whenmygazefloatsdownfromthestars,itfindsOliviacarefullywatchingme,andIwonderwhatsheseeswhenshelooksatme.IssheabletoseepasttheimageI’vecarelesslycreatedformyself?Ithinksheis.I’mlesssurethatherdecisionsaren’tfueledbythatimage,though.
Shegesturesatthebeer,asilentquestion,andInod,watchingasshetwiststhecapofftwo,oneforeachofus.Shesipsquietlyforaminutebeforeasking,“Whydidyoucomeafterme?”
“BecauseIhaven’tbeenabletogetyouoffmymindallnight.IfI’mbeinghonest,Ihaven’tstoppedthinkingaboutyousinceyouwalkedoutonmewhenweweresupposedtogetfood.”
Anotherbeatofsilence.
“Doyouknowwhatscaresmeaboutyou,Carter?”
Everything,probably,buthopefullysomethingIcanfix.“What?”
“ThatIhonestlydon’tknowwhetheryou’rebeinggenuineorifyou’rejusttryingexceptionallyhardtogetintomypants.”
“It’sadress,”Iteasewithacheekygrin,reachingforwardtotugonthewavyhemofthesleevewrappedaroundherdelicatewrist.Herunimpressedfacetellsmeit’snotthetimeforjokes.
Theshortandtruthfulanswertoherworryisboth.Igenuinelycareaboutherandwanttospendtimewithher,butIwouldalsothrowmyselfatherfeetifitmeantshe’dletmedestroyherbody,becauseIwanttoabsolutelywreckher.
Imeanthatinthemostrespectfulwaypossible,ofcourse.
“Youmakemethink.”Toomuch,maybe.It’smessingwithmyhead;everythingisjumbled.
Shedoesahalfeyeroll.“Becauseyouaren’tusedtohavingtoworkforit?”
Christ.Like,Ifuckinggetit.NobodytrustsmewithOlivia,herincluded,becauseIfuckaroundalot.NobodythinksIhaveitinmetochange,towantmore,totreatagirlright.
Drainingmybeerandditchingitonthetable,Iscrubbothhandsdownmyface.Idon’tknowwhattodoandit’sunnerving.Ineverhavetosecond-guessmyselfontheice.IcommandthatrinkandI’veworkeddamnhardtoearntherespectofmyteammates,theirconfidenceinmeastheircaptain.Idomybestnottoletthemdown,butrightnow,IfeellikeI’mlettingmyselfdown.Idon’tknowwhatmynextmoveshouldbe.HowthehelldoIgethertotrustmeenoughtogivemeashothereatsomething,anything?
Oliviatouchesmyknee,drawingmyattention.“I’msorry,Carter.Mysaucinessismybestdefensemechanism.”
Inod.“Iseethat.”AndIgetit.
“ImeantwhatIsaidearlier.Idolikeyou.Ijust…”
“Don’ttrustme,”Ifinishforher.“Andwhywouldyou?Whywouldanyone?”Meanttosaythatlastoneinmyhead.
Olivia’seyesflickeranddrop.Thenshereachesout,timidfingerswrappingaroundmine.“I’mreallysorry,Carter.”
Hersincerityisappreciatedbutshedoesn’thaveanythingtoapologizefor.It’smyownfault.Emmettalwaystoldmemyfuckingaroundwouldcomebacktobitemeintheassoneday.Ialwaysfiguredhemeantanaccidentalpregnancywithapuckbunny,thoughI’mcarefulashell.BirthcontrolandacondomorI’mnotgoingin.Ididn’tthinkinamillionyearshemeantthattheonlywomanI’veeverwantedwouldultimatelynotgoformebecauseofmypast.
Butheresheis,havingalreadyadmittedherfeelingsforme,theonlythingstandinginourwaybeingmylessthanstellarhistorywithrelationships,orrather,lackthereof.
So,IguessIneedtoworkonchanginghermind,giveherareasontotrustme,evenifit’sslowandtakesmealldamnyear.I’llbeherfriendfirst,andI’llbegood.
Forher.
ForOlivia.CHAPTER13OPRAH&OOPSIESCARTER
“SoIguessthatmeansnomakingoutinthebackrowatthemovies,huh?”
Herquietgigglemakesmesmile.“Wedon’treallyhavetogo.”
“What?No,fuckthat.FrozenII,right?We’regoing.”Idiginmypocket,pulloutmyphone,andflipthroughtothecinemaapp.“Let’spickadaterightnow.I’llbuythetickets.”
“But—”
“Listen,”Icutheroff.“Areyoutellingmenever,Ollie,orareyouopentothepossibilityofafutureifIproveyoucantrustme?”
Herteethskimherbottomlip.“Well,IguessIdidbeatyouthreegamesinarow…”
“Iletyouwin,”Ilie,thenclapmypalmoverhermouthwhensheopensittoargue.“Okay,Ileaveonaroadtripintwodays,sowecangowhenIgetback.”
Sheripsmyhandaway,hangingontomyfingersasshedropsittoherlapandscoochesclosertome,facehangingovermyphone.“Somebody’seager,”shemumbles,thentapsonadate.“ThatFridaycouldworkifyouguysareoff.”
“Weare.”It’sourbyeweek,actually,whichisourmandatedfive-daybreak.It’sgoingtobeabusyweekendforreasonsneitherCaranorOliviaknowsaboutyet,butwillbytomorrow.
“Butit’saFridaynight,soifyou’re,um…busy,thenItotally—”HermouthshutswhenIhitthepurchasebutton.
Flashingagrin,Itaphernose.“It’sadate,pip-squeak.NowdrinkanotherbeerandtellmewhereinOntarioyougrewup.”
Oliviasinksagainstmewithawistfulsigh.“I’mfromMuskoka.”
“Ah,cottagecountry.”Istareoutatthehorizon.“Nowonderyoufellasleepouthere.”
“Wedon’thavemountains,butthisis…wow.”It’slikeshe’sstucksomewherefaroff,dreamingwhileshestareswithwonderoutatthesky.“It’stheonlytimeI’veseenasmanystarsasIusedtoeverynightathome.”
“How’dyouwindupallthewayouthere?”
Shesetsherbeerdown,bouncingsidetoside,andherfacelightslikeshe’sgearinguptotellmeherfavoritestory.
“Okay,so,mybrother—he’sfouryearsolderthanme,”shetouchesmyhand,“—cameouthereforschoolanddecidedheneverwantedtocomehomeagain.WhenIgraduatedfromhighschool,Icametospendthesummerwithhimandhisgirlfriend—shewaspregnant,one-nightstand,butnowthey’remarried.”Shewavesahandaround.“Youknow,truelove,fairytalebullshit.Butanyway,notthepoint.”
Icouldlistentohertellstoriesallday.
“SoIcameouthere,andhonestly,Ifellinlove.Witheverything,allofit.Ispenttwomonthshikingandexploring,andIdidn’twanttoleave.IwasallsettogotoTorontoinSeptember,butKristin—mysister-in-law,she’sfantastic—wasworkingattheuniversity,pulledsomestringsandgotmeameetingwithadmissions.Itwassheerdumbluckthey’dhadsomeonepullbacktheiracceptancethedaybefore,andIgotin.Flewhomethenextday,packedupmywholelife,anddroveoutherethreedayslaterwithmydad.IgotassignedCaraasaroommateandthatwastheendofthat.Therewasnoturningback.She’dneverletmeleavenow.”
Chuckling,Ipickupherhand,pressingherpalmtomine.Thesizedifferenceisstaggering.“IimagineCarawouldbeonthenextplaneout,readytochaseyoudownanddragyoubackherebyyourhairifyoutriedtoleaveher.”
Olivia’snosescruncheswithhergiggle.“Mymom’striedacoupletimes.Shestillpretendsshe’smadatmeforleaving.Iwasstillseventeenandsuchaquietkid,arealhomebody.ThethoughtofmovingtoTorontoforschoolandbeingawayfrommyparentsterrifiedme,andthereIwas,suddenlypackingupandmovingacrossthecountryonawhim.”
Sheleansforward,grippingmyhand.Idon’tknowwhyshegetssoanimatedwhenshe’stellingastory,butIloveit.Italsokindafeelslikeshe’sdroppingherwalls,whichIcandefinitelygetbehind.
“Momrefusedtosaygood-byewhenweleft,wouldn’tlookatme,hugme,nothing.Butthenshechasedthecardownthestreet,screamingatmydadtostop.Shesobbedinmyarmsfortwenty-sevenminutesbeforesheletmego.Mydadtimedit.”
Imakeaface,onethatmakeshergigglesomemore.“Soundslikesomethingmymomwoulddo.Theycannevermeet.Youcan’tputtwocrazymomsinaroom.”
“Crazymomsarethebest,though.”
Isigh.“Noonewilleverloveyouthesamewayacrazymomdoes.”Orasupportivedad.Youknow,theI’m-your-biggest-fankind.Ihadoneofthose,andImisshim.
Anhourandahalflater,thebeersaregone,andOlivia’sbuzzinghappilybesideme,apermanentlazygrinetchedonherface.
“Thinkmyparty’sover,”Imurmurafterseveralminutesofslammingcardoors,holleringfriendsbeforetheyclimbintocabs.
Oliviablowsoutalongexhaleandlaysherheadinmylap.Idon’thesitatetoburymyfingersinherhair.It’ssoftandsilkyandthickashell.ItwirlthetipofonecurlaroundmypointerfingerandtrynottothinkabouthowitmightfeeltowrapallofitaroundmyfistwhileIburyanotherbodypartinsideofher.
Itrynottothinkaboutit,butI’maman,andshe’sonehellofawoman.
“Ididn’tmeantohogyouuphere,”shetellsme.
Ismiledownather,beyondtemptedtobendmyneck,coaxmytongueintohermouth,tasteheroncemore.“Nobetterwaytospendthefirstcouplehoursofthenewyear.”
“I’mnotreadytoleave,”sheadmitswithayawnandastretch.
Fan-fucking-tastic,becauseI’mnotreadytowatchhergo.
“Thendon’t.Sleepover.”
Oliviadoesn’thesitatetothrowanarmup,pinchingthefirstbitofmybodyshecangethergrubbylittlefingerson.Ithappenstobemynipple.
“Ow,youlittleshit.”Ismackaprotectivepalmovermyinjurednipple.Oliviadoesn’tlooktheleastbitapologetic,whichpromptlyleadstomecurlingovertopofher,ticklingherribswhileshesquealswithlaughteruntilshe’sawheezingmess,writhingaroundonmylap,beggingmetostop,tearsthreateningtospilldownhercheeks.Holdingherwristsoverherhead,Idropmyfaceuntilthetipsofournosetouch.
“Nopinching,”Iwhisper.
Iwanttodoit,butit’sherthattipsherchin,brushingherlipsacrossmine.Justbarely.Justatouch.Justenoughthatatingleofexcitementracesdownmyspine,remindingmehowmuchIlikekissingher.Howshefeelssodifferentthaneveryotherwomanbeforeher.
Ipullherupwithme,watchingtheblanketpoolatherfeetassheadjustsherdressaroundherthighsandshivers.Takingherhand,Ileadherintomybedroom,closingoutthecoldbehindus
“Thinkofitmorelikeaslumberparty.Wecouldwatchamovie,andyoucansleepinmybed.I’lltakeaspare.”
Ipullhertowardthefour-posterbed,enjoyingthewaysheshufflesalongbehindmeasiftryingtodisguisehereagerness.
“Comeon,Ollie.”Ipatthemattress.“Haveafeel.”
Herwideeyesbouncebetweenmeandthebed.Movingbehindher,Ipressherpalmstothemattress,coveringherhandswithmine.
Mylipstouchherear.“It’saHypnos.Oprahsleepsonone.”
Shemakesasounddeepinherthroat,oneIsomedayhopetohearwhilewe’rerollingaroundtogether,naked,preferablyinthisverybed.Shepeersatmefromoverhershoulder,lickingherlipsbeforetakingthebottomonebetweenherteeth.
“But…Idon’t…haveanypajamas,”shesettleson.“Oratoothbrush.”
“I’llgetyouboth,”Isaywithasmile,watchingthewayherfingersdustacrossthesoftbedding,herchestsinkinglowertothemattresswiththegentleguideofmyhandonherlowerback.“I’llmakeyoubreakfastinthemorningandmaybewecould…talk…more.”
Shepressesuponhertoesandrestsakneeonthemattress.“Whatwillyoumakeme?”
“Waffles.Frenchtoast.Bacon.Eggs.I’llmakeyouafuckingturkeydinnerifyouwant,justgetinthedamnbed.”
Oliviafoldsoverwithlaughter,fistingthecovers.Igrabherhips,tossingherontothebed.Sherollswithayelpandagiggle,collapsingontoherback,starfishinginthemiddleofthebed.
“Ohfuck,”shemoans.Ah,shit.Mypoordick.He’sjumpingaroundbehindmyzipper,becauseshe’sinmybed,moaning.Sweepingherarmsout,shedrawlsout,“Thisisamaaaziiing.”
Iknowthat,ofcourse.Costmefifteengrand,taxesin.Youreadthatright.Fifteenfuckinggrandonamattress,andit’swortheverypenny.
Handsinmypocket,Iwatchherwithasmile,takingherinwhilesherollsaround,testingitout.She’snotbotheredwhenthedoorhandlejiggles,orwhenCaracallsouttoher.
“Livvie?”Caraknocksfivetimesinrapidsuccession,followedbytwosofterknocks.“Youinthere,babe?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Uh-huh?Well,getouthere.We’regoinghome.”
Sittingup,Olivia’sgazefloatstothedoor.Shetwists,lookingtomelikeshedoesn’tknowwhatthehelltodo,likeshewantsmetomakethedecisionforher.Ican’t,obviously.Ifitwasmychoice,I’dkeepherhereuntilshehadtogobacktowork.We’dalsobenakedtheentiretime,tryingoutafewchoicegymnasticmoves.
Iheaveasigh,plowingahandthroughmyhair,shakingitout.“Ifyoudon’twanttostay,it’sokay.”
Herlipspart,headtippingtothesidetostudyme.“Um,I’mgoingto…”Thecornerofhermouthlifts.“Stay.”
Iclapmyhandstogetherandscreamoutasilentyes!beforedivebombingthebed,wrappingmyarmsaroundher,rollingheraroundinsomesortofweirdhugwhileshelaughswildly.Ifinallyjumpupandjogacrosstheroomtomydresser,whereIpulloutaT-shirtandapairofsweatpants.Iholdthepantsupinquestion;they’regoingtoswallowherwhole.Shemakesafaceandshakesherhead.
“Whatthefuck?CarterBeckett,areyouinthere?”Carashakesthehandle.“Carter,openthisfuckingdoorrightnow!Em,kickitdown!Keepyourdickoutofmybestfriend’spalace!”
ThrowingmyshirttoOlivia,Ihitthelockandwhipthedooropen,gesturingatmybodywiththesweepofmyarm.“I’mfullydressed,andmydickisinmypants,rightwhereitbelongs,thankyouverymuch.”
Caraappearsbothunimpressedandshocked.Emmett,ontheotherhand,grinsfromeartoearashepokeshisheadintotheroom.HedoublesoverwithlaughterwhenhespiesOliviaonthebed.He’sclearlywasted.
“OhmyGod,”Oliviacroons,onherkneesinthecenterofmybed,holdingmyshirttoherbody.“Care,look!Hegavemehisshirttosleepin.It’sgonnabeadressonme!”
Cara’sjawdrops,gazemovingbetweenus.Sheholdsherhandsup.“Whatinthefuckisgoingonhere?”
“I’mjustgonnasleep.”Oliviaditchestheshirtandliftstheblankets,slidingbeneaththem.HerheaddisappearsbetweenthepillowsuntilallIcanseeareherarms,whichsheholdshighintheair.“IkickedCarterBeckettoutofhisownbed.Somebodytakeapicture!Idon’tthinkthishaseverhappenedbefore!”
Ithasn’t.IdoalotofshitwithOliviaI’veneverhadadesiretodowithanyoneelse.
OliviabounceswiththeweightofEmmett’sbodywhenithitsthemattress.Thetwoofthemsnuggleupasheholdshisphoneabovetheirheads,snappingapicturewhiletheysnickerlikeacoupleoffools.Ikindawannacrawlinthere.
Scratchthat.Ireallywannacrawlinthere.Andkickmybestbudthehellout.
Carapointsafingerinmyface,thelookshehitsmewithasterrifyingasitalwaysis.“I’mtoodrunktoyellatyou.Ifyouhurther,bepreparedtoeatyourowndick.I’veheardit’shuge,soit’sagoodthingyouhaveabigappetite.”Hercrazedeyesmovebetweenmine.“Gotit,Carter?”
Holdinguptwofingers,Ipledge,“IsolemnlyswearIwillnothurtOliviaParker.”
Shepatsmychestandturnsbacktothebedwhereherbestfriendandboyfriendarestillbouncingaround.“It’slikeIhavekidssometimes.”Shestalksover,draggingEmmettoffthebedandkissingOlivia’scheek.“Havefun,besafe,anddon’tmakeanystupiddecisions.”
Oliviasalutesher.“Yes,Mom.”
Cararollshereyesbutlaughs,struttingbyme,andEmmettshutsthedoorwiththepumpofhisbrows.Aminutelater,thefrontdooropensandcloses,leavingthehouseeerilyquiet.
IneverthoughtI’dbeheretonight,alonewithOlivia,especiallynotinmybed.
Hercurlsareawildmess,blanketspoolingaroundherwaist.She’sliketheantichrist,sittingthereinbed,everythingaboutherdark—hair,gaze,dress—astarkcontrasttoallofthefluffywhitebedding.Nothingbutterrible,filthy,downrightnaughtythoughtsrunthroughmymind.Antichrist
“Youmademegetyoupajamasandyou’regonnasleepinyourdress?”
Hergrinisslow,alldevil,assheslipsoutofthebed.“IwaswaitingforCaratoleavesoIcouldpeelitoff.”
Iswallowmytongue,watchingherstrolltowardmewithalltheconfidenceintheworld.AndIgetthehelloutoftheway.
“’Kay.I’ll,uh…”Ithumbtowardthedoor.“Giveyousomeprivacy.”
Ireachforthehandle,andOlivia’shandcomesdownhardonthewood,slammingitshutthemomentitopens.Thehaironmynaperisesassheflicksthelock,andIdon’thaveasinglecluewhattodo.I’mstandingherelikeajackass,gazegluedtothelockeddoor,becauseIcannotfuckinglookatthiswomanrightnowifI’mgoingtokeepitinmypants.I’mabouttwosecondsawayfromtacklinghertothebedandrippingthatdressrightoffher.
Theenergyintheroomisaboutaselectricallychargedasthenineinchesoftitaniumstrainingbehindmyzipperrightnow.
Ipuffoutaheavyexhale,saggingwithreliefattheclickofthebathroomdoorbehindme.Sinkingtotheedgeofthebed,Istareupattheceiling,prayingforsomemuch-neededself-restraint.
Painfullyadjustingthebulgeinmypants,Itrytokillthemoodbytalkingaboutfeelings.“Uh,hey,Ollie,”Icalloutweakly.Shakingmyhead,Idragmyhandsdownmyface.“Ithinkweshouldtalkabout,um…”SweetChrist,thisispainful.
“Ilikeyou,”Iblurtoutforatleastthesecondtime.I’mtalkingtoadoor.“Iwasthinking…maybewecould…Icouldmaybe…maybeyoucanlearntotrustme,youknow,givemeachance,ifIshowyou…youcantrustme…”It’sbarelyawhisperbythetimeIreachtheendbecauseIhavenoideawhatthefuckI’mdoing.
Silence
Andthen:“Tomorrow.”
Ileaptomyfeet.“What?”
“Wecantalktomorrow.Afteryoumakemeaturkeydinnerforbreakfast.”
Fuckingyes.Ilookdownatmymainman.He’snotdeflatinganytimesoon.He’saboutasexcitedasIam.“Hearthat,bigbuddy?”Iwhispereagerlytohim.“We’refuckinggettin’somewhere!”
“Carter?”Oliviacalls.“Canyouhelpme?”
Dashingacrosstheroom,Ipausewithmyhandontheknob.I’mabouttoaskifshe’sdecent,butthensheopensthedoor,takesmyhand,pullsmein,andIalmostdiewhenshespeaks.
“Ineedyoutounzipme.”
Fuck.Fuck,fuck,fuck,fuuuck.
“Carter.”Olivia’sfingerstwinewithmine.“Ineedyoutolookatmeifyou’regoingtohelpme.”
Oh.Right.I’mlookingatmyfeet.Ichuckle.Itcomesoutafuckloadanxiousandhigh-pitched,andIrunmyhanddownmychestbeforeIfinallyraisemyheadandtwirlafingerintheair.“Turnaround,gorgeous.”Confidencecomesandgoes,apparently.
Whenoureyesmeetinthemirror,shesmilesatme.It’scuteandalittleloopyfromthedrinksandthesleepsheprobablyneeds.Whenherteethsinkintoherlowerlip,mygrinexplodes.She’salittleteaseandI’mprettysuresheknowsit.
Isweephersilky,loosecurlsoffherback,layingthemoverhershoulder,beforeItrailafingerdownhernecktoherdress,rightwhereher—
“Uh,Ol.There’s…there’snozipperbackhere.Yourdressis…”Ipullonthesoft,deepforestfabric,watchingitstretchfromherbackwithease,givingmeaglimpseoftheflawless,creamyskinlurkingbeneath.“Stretchy.”
“Oh,right.”Herexpressionisallsweetdevilwhenourgazeslockinthereflection.Shedidn’tforgetaboutherlackofzipper.Herrubyredlipspartwithabeam,goofyandbeautiful.“Oops.”
Oops…
Oops?
ThisisalsothemomentIcatchsightofthesatinblushbraonthecornerofmybathroomcountertop.
Ohfuck.
Oopsisfuckingright.
I’mabouttomakeabigfuckingoopsCHAPTER14DOOMSDAYOLIVIA
I’msureI’mnotentirelyinmyrightmind
It’spartalcohol,butmostlydelirious,undeniableattractiontothemancurrentlystandingbehindme,slack-jawedatthesightbeforehim.
Thesightisme,braless,askinghimtotakemydressoff.
Andincasehe’snotcertainofwhatI’masking,Iplacehishandsonmyhips,slidingthemuptothedipofmywaistasmybottomlipslidesbetweenmyteeth.
“Guessyoucanjustslipitoffthen.”
WhoamI?Idon’tknow.Agirlwho’sgoingtotakelifebytheballs,Iguess.Orrather,CarterBeckett.I’mgoingtotakeCarterBeckettbytheballs.
LikeIsaid,I’mnotsureI’mallthererightnow.ThisfeelslikesomethingImightregretinthemorning,oneofthosestupiddecisionsCarawarnedmeaboutbeforewalkingoutofhere.
Butthethingis…Iwanthim.Ilikehim,asmuchasIknowIshouldn’t.Becausethiscanonlyendoneway:me,heartbrokenanddisappointed,potentiallycryingintoaBigMacoravatofcookiedough.Maybeboth.
Preferablyboth.
IguessI’vedecidedthefalloutissomethingI’mwillingtodealwith,becausehereIaminCarter’sbathroom,askinghimtoundressme.
Maybeitwashisdefeatedexpressionwhenhetalkedaboutthelackoftrusteveryonehasinhim.Maybeitwashimaskingmetostay,promisingmemoviesandbreakfast.Maybeitwashimsittingtherenexttome,talkingtome,absolutelyrivetedwhilehelistenedtomespeak.Hewasn’tCarterBeckett,arroganthockeyphenomenonandladies’man.Hewasjust…Carter.
AndIlikehimthatway,whenallthewallsfallaway,somethingI’mwillingtobetnotmanygettoexperience.Maybethatmademefeelspecial.Maybeitputsomestockinhiswords.Maybe…maybeItrusthimalittlemorethanIdidwhenIwalkedthroughthefrontdoorseveralhoursago.
Idon’tknow.TheonlythingIdoknowisIcan’tfightthisanymore.I’mtired.
Carter’sholdonmywaisttightens,squeezing,andIcan’thelpbutmarvelathoweffortlessitwouldbeforhimtowreckmeinthemostravenous,druggingway.He’sbarelytouchedmeandIalreadywanttocomebackforseconds.
Hischestbrushesmyback,andIfeeltheweightofhisapprehensionwitheachstaggeringbreathhetakesasourgazesstaylockedoneachother’sreflection.Itipmyheadback,andwhenmyfingersdancealongthecurveofhisneck,hedipshisfaceandsmilesdownatme.
“CanIkissyou?”heasks,andthemomentInodhismouthdescends.It’stenderandsoft,teasingandtasting,lingering,andIwantmore.Moreofthis,moreofhim.
Isinkmyfingersintohissilkywaves,tugginghimcloser,andwhenhistonguelapsatmine,hestealsthewhimperrightfrommythroat.
Hislargehandslidesupmybelly,brushingmybreastsbeforeitwrapsgentlyaroundmyneck,fingerslightlypressinginashekeepsmethere,likemymouthishistoexplore.
Whenhebreaksaway,heforcesmyheadup,somethingbothdarkandintoxicatinginhisgazeasitmeetsmineinthemirror,lullingmeintoafakesenseofsecurity.Iwanthimtohavemybody,andIwanttopretendheknowshowtokeepallofitsafe.
“Lookatyou,”hemurmurs.“You’resofuckingsmallanddelicate,I’mafraidImightbreakyou.”
“I’mnotmadeofglass,Carter.Youdon’thavetobegentlewithme.Infact,I’dpreferifyouweren’t.”
Myassisonthecounterasecondlater,legswrappedaroundhisleanwaist,mycurlswrappedaroundhisfistashepullsmyheadtaut.HismouthhoverssoclosetominethatIcan’ttellwhoeacherraticbreathbelongstoaswebreatheeachotherin.
Roughfingersscrapeupmythigh,slippingbelowthehemofmydress,pushingitupuntilitpoolsaroundmyhips,andwhenhewrapsahandaroundmybarewaist,myentirebodytrembles.
Carter’sheatedgazedipstothespacebetweenus,andhisthroatbobs.“Fuck,”hehusks,staringdownatthedampspotinthecenterofmypanties.Hisgazeflipstomineasheslowlybrusheshisthumboverthenubthat’salreadycrampingwithneed.WhenIwhimper,hismouthcrashesdownonme.
Heshiftsagainstme,aslowgrindthatmakesmyheadfall,openingupmynecktohimashismouthslidesovermyskin,hot,wetkissesthathavemyhipslifting,desperateforthefrictionofhisthickweightbetweenmylegs.Hegivesittome,handsslidingbeneathme,kneadingmyass,pullingmecloser,andIwanttheselayersgone.
Gentlenipstrailmyjawuntilhislipsfindmyear.“Ifwedothis,Olivia,there’snogoingback.”
Idon’tknowwhatthatmeans.Nogoingbackfromwhat?Ifwedothis,it’sthebeginningofsomething.Somethingintimateandferal,andmaybesomethingmore,butmorethanlikely,thebeginningoftheend.
Amurmurofgriefechoesinmychest,remindingmethatthisisn’tme,thatIwantsomuchmorethanfleetingnightsandgood-byes.Thesteady,quickthudofmyhearttellsmetogiveupthefightjustfortonight,toembraceitforwhatitis:onenightofguaranteedpassionwiththemanIcan’tstopthinkingabout.
Tuckeddeepbelowallthatisthepartofmewithveryrealfearsandinsecurities,thepartthat’sbeencomparingmyselftothewomenwrappedaroundhisarmineverypicture.That’sthepartthat’slikelytotakeovertomorrowwhenI’msober,kickmyinebriatedselfintheassformakingadecisionthatleadsmefurtherdowntherabbithole.
Butthechemistrybetweenusbuzzeslikealivewire,connectingus,makingitimpossibleformetothinkclearlyrightnow.IknowwhatIwant,andwhatIwantisthisman—insideofme,alloverme,taking,possessing,overandoveragain.
That’sprobablywhy,“Ifyouwantme,youcanhaveme,”iswhatcomesoutofmymouth.
Withonefellswoop,I’monmyfeet,backpressedtoCarter’sfirmbody,mydressintheclawfoottubinthecornerofthebathroom,nexttotheimmaculateglassshower.Roughhandsslidedownmyarms,grippingmyhips,fingernailsbitingintofleshashisgazerakesovermelikehotcoals.
Softlipspresstenderkissesacrossmyshoulder,downtheslopeofmyspineasCarterhookshisthumbsintomypantiesandslowlylowershimselftohisknees,takingtheblushinglacewithhimashegoes.
Hiswarmmouthslidesupthebackofmythighashekneadsmymuscles,andwhenonehandslipsbetweenmylegswheremyheartbeathasfounditself,Isqueezemyeyesshutandholdontotheedgeofthecounterfordearlife.
“You’renervous,”Cartermurmurs,splayingahandovermylowerbellyasitquivers.
Nervous,drunkonrawdesire,terrifiedofthegeneroushelpingofhonesttogoodnessfeelingsthatscaretheshitoutofme…Allofitswirlsinsideme,grabbingholdofmyheart,clenchingitlikeafist.
“Fuckingstunning.”Thewordsareawonderouswhisperashisfingersglidethroughthewetnessspreadbetweenmythighs.Hestands,kissesmyneck,andholdsmygaze.“Flawless.”Thehandonmybellycoastsupuntilitpalmsonebreast,rollingmytautnipple.Histeethscrapemyear.“Howwetareyou?”
“OhGod.”Myheadlollsforwardwithamoan,andwhenhechuckles,Ishiver.Theanswerisdrenched,andheknowsit.Wecanbothfeelit,theheat,thedampnessthatpoolsthere.“Touchme,”Ibeg.“Please,Carter.”
HistouchghostsovertheareaIwanthimmost,andhecupsmeinhishand,asilentminethatIdon’tmiss.“Lookatme.”WhenIdo,hedragshisfingersthroughmyslickfoldsbeforesinkingoneinside.“Fuck.”HismouthopensonmyshoulderasIcryouthisname.“Suchawetfuckingpussy.”
Hisfingerswraparoundmythroatashethrustsinsideofme,anachinglyslowplungethathasmepleadingformore,faster,harder.Redheatclawsupmychest,floodingmycheeksasflamessparkinmystomach,makingeverythingtingleandboil,likeI’mteeteringontheedgeofavolcaniceruption.
Igaspwhenasecondfingerpushesinside,andeverythingfeelstightinthemostwonderfulwayashishandmoves,asteadydrivethatpicksupspeed,ferocity,untiltheheelofhispalmslapsagainstmyasswitheachthrust.
Carter’shandonmynecksqueezes,arumbleinhischestasItakeeverythinghegivesme,includingthewordsheforcesdownmythroatwhenhismouthtakesmine.“Goodgirl.”
Everythinginsidemecomestoarollingboil,spillingover,andCarterkeepsmelockedtohischestashereleasesmynecktoworkthetightbundleofnervesatthecleftofmythighs,smilingagainstmyskinwhenhisnameexplodesoffmylips.
Withouthesitation,hebendsandcirclesmyknees,flingingmeoverhisshoulder,ignoringmyyelp.Hishandcoversmyassashemarchesintothebedroomandtossesmedownonthebedwithabounce.HesmileswhenIgiggle,armssweepingoverthebeddingasIburymyheadinthefluffypillowsandmoan.
“Ineverwanttoleavethisbed.”
Hetearshisshirtoverhead,stepsoutofhisjeans,andcrawlsoverme,kissingthecornerofmymouthbeforeIhavetimetoadmirehowbeautifulhisbodyis.“Sodon’t.ThinkIcouldkeepyouforever.”
Iburythefeelingthatfuelsinmychestandburnsinmybellywaydowndeepinsideme,becausethat’sadangerousthingtothinkhemightmean.Imaybeslightlyintoxicated,butaftertonight,I’m100percentpositiveCarterBeckettisamanIcouldfallinlovewith.
I’mnotaone-nightstandgirl;I’vealreadysaidthat.Forme,sexcomesafterfeelings.ImighthavefailedtomentionthatIrarelycatchfeelings.It’sablessingoracurse;Ihaven’tdecidedyet.Ilookforarealconnectionandthosearehardtocomeby.Italsomeansthatinmytwenty-fiveyearsI’veonlyhadsexwithtwomen,quitethecontrastfromCarter’slist.
“Hey.”Hesweepsmycheekbone,drawingmygazetohis.“Where’dyougo?Kindadisappearedonmethere.”Warmlipsslidealongmyjawuntilheburieshisfaceinmyhair.“Andwhythefuckdoyoualwayssmellsogood?Likebananabread,freshlybaked.Iwannadevouryou.”
Desiretakesflightlikebutterfliesinmystomach,andaheavyachethudsbetweenmythighs.
“TheonlyproblemisIdon’tknowwheretostart.Iwannabeeverywhere,allatonce.Like…”Heskimsahanddownmyneck,fingertipsghostingovermybreast,myskineruptingwithgoosebumpswhenhedragshisthumbovermynipple.“Here.”
Mylipspartwithashakyexhalewhenhisfacedips,andhelooksmeintheeyeashistongueflicksovermynipple.
“ButIalsowannabe…”Cartertrailsoff,justlikehislipsandtheslow,torturouspaththey’retakingdownmystomach,wherehekissesaroundmybellybutton.“Here.”
Anticipationshakeseverybitofme,wreckingmynerves,andamoangurglesinmythroatashismouthfollowshisleisurelypathdownmybody.Hepausestosuckonmyhipbone,stainingmyskinwithhismark,beforeheliftsmyleg,alternatingbetweenthewetslideofhistongueandthetouchofhislipsasheglidesup.
“Andhere,”hewhispers,finishingatthejunctureofmythigh.
“Andfuck.”It’sabreathy,cracklingexhale,onethatwashesrightovermycenter,andIcan’tbreathe,“Here,Olivia?Here’swhereIwannabemost.”
Myheadfallsback,mouthopeningonamoanashepresseshistongueflattomycoreandlicksonelanguidstrokerightuptothetop.Thetipofhistongueswirlsaroundmyclitbeforehesucksitintohismouth.Myfingersplowthroughhissilkywavesashetossesmylegsoverhisshoulders,burieshisfacebetweenmylegs,anddoeswhathepromised:fuckingdevoursme.
Thewayheeatsmeisnothingshortofferocious,amealwhenhehasn’teatenindays,hotlashesofhistonguepairedwithsearing,suckingkissesasIholdhimtomeandgrindmypelvisintohisface.
“Fuck,”Imoan,afieryheatblazingupmybody.MybackarchesandIgaspashethruststwofingersinsideme.“Carter,I-I…Ican’t.”
“Youcan.”
He’srelentless,asavageintentonshowingnomercy,hischestvibratingwithapprovalashewatchesmeclimbhigher,andwhenhethrowsmeovertheedge,Iclapahandacrossmymouthtostiflemycry.
Cartertearsmyhandaway,pinningmywristsoneithersideofmyheadasheloomsoverme.“SlapthathandbackthereagainandI’lltiebothofthemtothebedpost.Iwannahearyouscreammynamewhenyoucomewithmeinsideyou.Gotit?”
Wordshaveescapedme,soInodrapidly.
Cartergrins,crawlingupmybody.Hehooksafingerundermychin.“Nosassycomebacks,Ol?DidIbreakyou?”
Closingmyeyes,Ipullinadeepbreathandletitgo.Ikisshislips,thenfollowhisruggedjawlinetohisear.“Youhaven’tbrokenmeyet,butI’mhopingifI’magoodgirl,youwillsoon.”
Hisgazedarkens.“Fuck,Iwannagiveyouwhateveryouwant.”
Ibrushmylipsagainsthis.“Wreckme,Carter.”
Ourmouthscollideinafrenzy,scrapingteeth,slidingtongues,bruisingtouches.Ishovehimdowntothemattressandstraddlehiships,becauseIneedaminutetoproperlyadmirethemasterpiecethatishisbody.He’sbroadandfirm,solid,cordedmusclesthatripplebeneathhisgoldenskin.Itrailthetipofmyfingerdowntheetchedpathinhistorso,aroundeachab,swirlingaroundhisbellybuttonbeforefollowingthepathofsoftchestnutcurlsthatdisappearsbelowthewaistbandofhisboxerbriefs.
“You’resobeautiful,”Imurmur.
“Me?”Herunshispalmsovermythighsandgripsmywaist.There’ssomethinginhisgaze,somethingobscureandyetsoopen,sovulnerable,likehewantsmetoseeitbutdoesn’tknowhowtoshowme.Thecallusedpadofhisthumbrunsacrossmylip,hisgazewatchingthemovementbeforeflippingbackuptomine.“You’refuckingimmaculate,Ollie.”
Aheavy,swiftdrumminginmychestmakeseverythingtight,andmythroatconstrictsasfeargrabsholdonceagain.Idon’tknowwhatI’mdoinghere,whyI’mgivingmyselfup.Ifitweren’tforsheerdesiretoletgoandfeeltheweightofhisneedforme,mixedwiththedrinkswe’veconsumedthat’sloweredbothourinhibitions,Imighthitpause.Weneedtotalk,butwhenallIcanseeishisbodybelowmineandthatheadylookinhiseyes,Idon’trememberhowtocommunicate.
“Hey,”hewhispers.“What’swrong?Youwannastop,we’llstop.I’llsnuggletheshitouttayouandwecanwatchamovie.I’mcoolwiththat.”There’snothinginhisexpressionthathintsathisduplicity,thoughtheheatofhisbodygiveswaytohowmuchhehopesIwon’taskhimtostop.
Hecupsmyjaw,andwhenoureyesconnect,Iblurtout,“I’veonlyhadsexwithtwopeople.”AndbecauseIcan’tstoptalking,Iadd,“IonlysleepwithpeopleIcareabout.”
Ifeelsoexposedundertheweightofhisassessment.Notknowingwhathe’sthinkingonlymakesmemoreedgy.
“I’msorrythatIcan’tsaythesame,”hefinallysays.“ButIcantellyouhonestlyifIonlyhadsexwithpeopleIcaredabout,I’dbelosingmyvirginitytonightattheageoftwenty-seven.”
Surely,thatcan’tberight.There’snowayI’mtheonlypersonhe’sever—
“I’veneverfeltthiswayaboutanyonebefore.Never,Ollie.Ijustwantyoutoconsider…considergivingmeashot.Considerme.That’sallIwant,Ol.Achancewithyou.”Agentlekisssweepsacrossmyknuckles.“Wecantalkmoreaboutitinthemorning.”Heliftsmeoffofhimandpullsmeintohisembrace,coveringuswiththeblanketsandstuffinghisfaceinthecrookofmyneckashemurmurs,“Bananabread.”
“Carter.”I’msolost,whichisnotatallwhatIwanttobewhenI’mthisturnedon.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Snugglingyou.”Clearly,andhe’sdoingitwell.I’msurprised;I’mprettysureit’shisfirsttime.“I’veneverbeenasnugglerbefore.”Therewego.“IthinkI’mfuckingfantasticatit.”Andhello,arrogance.
“You’redoingimpressivelywell.Butwhatareyoudoing?”Andwhyisn’thisstormtrooperinvadingmyterritoryrightnow?Judgingbythewayit’spokingatmybackside,I’dsayit’sprettyeagertobeinsideme,aboutaseagerasIamattheprospectofit.
“Stop…stopping?”Hishesitationhasmebitingbackasmile.“Isn’tthatwhatyouwant?”
“WhendidIeveraskyoutostop?”
“Yousaid…I…well,Iguessyou…didn’t.”
Myhandlandsonhiscollarbone,pushinghimbackasIcrawloverhim.Igrindmyselfagainsthim,enjoyinghisgutturalgroanandtheroughwayhegripsme.IshiftbackenoughtoshowhimthewetspotI’veleftonhisgrayboxers,rightwherehe’sstrainingforfreedom.
“YousaidyouwantedtohearmescreamyournamewhenIcome.Areyougoingtomakemeornot?Ifyou’renotupforthechallenge,Icantakecareofmyself.”
Withagrowl,Carterflipsmeontomyback,pinningmetothemattress.Hisfacedips,teethgrazingthecolumnsofmythroat.“Mouthygirl,”hemurmurs.“Youwannabewrecked,doyou?Icanmakesureyoudon’twalkoutofhereifthat’swhatyoureallywant.”
“Proveit.”
I’monmyhandsandkneesbeforeIcancomprehendhowIgotthere,andCarter’spalmlandsswiftlyagainstmyass,aburstofpainandpleasurerushingthroughme,poolingbetweenmylegs.
“JesusChrist,thispussy.”Heclimbsoffthebedandpullsmetotheedge.Ihearhisunderwearhittheground,butallIfeelistheplungeofhisfingersasIgoshootingforwardwithagasp,clawingatthesheets.Hepullsout,leavingatrailofwetnessalongmyhipwhenheflipsmetomyback.Allcoherentthoughtspromptlyexitmybrainatthesightofhimstandingtherecompletelynaked,fistinghiscockinhishand.
“Holyshit.”I’mnotsurewreckedistherightwordforwhatCarter’sgoingtodotome.Totallydestroy,yes.Obliterate,Ithinkso.He’ssosmugashewatchesme,thatself-assured,crookedsmilepaintedonhisfaceashewatchesmyeyesgrow.Whenhestartsstalkingtowardme,thick,muscularthighsflexingwitheachstep,Itrytoswallowmywholedamntongue.
Icrawlbackwardwhenhiskneeshitthemattressandhestartsslinkingtowardme,thatthingdanglingbetweenhislegs,draggingacrossthebedding.Asidefromthewildbeatofmyheart,theonlyotherthingIcanhearistheslownesswithwhichitslithersacrossthebed,alertingmetomyimpendingdoom.
“I-I…”FortheloveofallGod,whatthehellamItryingtosay?Igiveuponwords,insteadspreadingmyarmsout,palmsfacingeachother,beforeImakeatinyOwithmypointerfingerandthumb.Myheadwagsfuriouslyandmyshrugisnothingshortofbothinnocentandsincerelyconcerned.“It’snotgonnafit.”
Carter’schuckleiswaytooominousformyliking,andI’mstilldoingthecrabwalk.MyhandslipsandIstarttumblingovertheedgeofthebed,legsintheair.HecatchesmebeforeIcandoanydamagethatmightpotentiallyandprematurelyendthistriptoheaven/hellthatI’msolookingforwardto,eventhoughCarter’spackingagoddamnmissilethat’sgoingtoblowmyvaginatosmithereens.
Takingholdofmyankles,hedragsmebeneathhim,andapulsebloomsinmylowerbellyashestaresdownatme,hiscockbrushingagainstmyswollenclit.Hepalmsmyhipanddropshispelvis,aslowgrindthatdrawsalltheairfrommylungs.
Withafistfulofmyhair,hebringsmyfacetohis.Hismouthcoversmine,thehotlashofhistonguedoingnothingtoeasetheapprehensionhisnextpromisebrings.“We’regonnamakeitfit.”
Heripsmylegsapart,swipingtheheadofhiscockthroughmyheat,spreadingmywetness.Withacrookedgrin,heasks,“Anylastwords?”
Ishakemyhead.
“Good.Holdon.”
Hissmileslips,emeraldeyesglazingoverwithalustsodark,soferal,thatwhenheslamsinsidemewithasinglepunishingthrust,myentireworldfadestoblack.Mymouthopensandheswallowsmyscreambeforeitcanescape.
“OhmyGod,”Icry,tearingmymouthaway.Myfingernailsbiteintohisshoulders,holdingontohimashefillsme.“Wait,Carter,please.”
Hestillsinsideofme,hishandgrippingmythroatashisbodytrembles,likehe’safraidifhedoesn’thangontosomethinghewon’tbeabletocontrolhimself.
Buthe’ssobig,sothick,soheavy,andeveryinchofmefeelssotight,stretchedbeyondbelief.
Hedropshisforeheadtomine,chestheaving,eachbreathburstingpasthislips.“I’msorry.”
Thepainwanes,adeliriousfullnessthatspreadslikeflames,heatlickingatmyskin.Isnagmylipbetweenmyteeth,moaningasIarchoffthebed,takinghimalittlebitfartherasIadjusttohissize.Mynailsrakedownhisarms,eyesrollingtoheaven,ashishipsstartrolling,aslowgrindthatcoaxeseveryknotinsidemeloose,untileverythingstartsunfurling.
Heslidesahandbeneathme,liftingmetohim.Hisanxiousgazebouncesbetweenmine,seekinginstruction,permission,control.ControlI’mwillingtogive.
AsnarlrumblesdeepinhischestashedropsmetothemattressanddoesexactlywhatIasked:fucksme
Hisskinslapsagainstmineashepistonsinsideme,sodeepIswearIcanfeelhiminmybelly.Histouchisrough,firethatsingeseverywhereittouches,brandingmeashis.
Eachrollofhispelvissendssparksthroughmyclit,eachplungeofhiscockdeeperandharderthanthelast,untilIfeelweightless.I’mnothingbutbonesandthesheerpleasurethatburnsthroughmefromheadtotoe,lightingmeaflamefromtheinsideout.
Carter’sfingerstangleinmycurls,digintomyhip,keepingmeinplaceashisbodydominatesmine.
“Fuck,”hegrowls,faceslickagainstmyneck.“Fuckinglovefuckingyou.”Heslidesawetkissacrossmymouth.“Iwantmore,Ollie.I’mgonnatakeit.”
Idon’tknowwhatmoreIcangivehim,butthenheliftsmylegandthrowsitoverhisshoulder,grabsontotheheadboard,andadevilish,roguishgrintakesoverhisfaceashepummelsintomewitheverythinghehas.
“Pill,”hegruntsout.“Areyouon—”
“Yes.”
“CanI—”
“God,yes.”
Athroaty,pleasedhumrumblesashedrivesfaster,andIcryouthisname,overandoveragain,palmsslidingdownhisback,feelingtheknottedmusclesthatmovesofluidly.Myhandsfindhisfirmass,squeezinghimcloserwhenthere’salreadynowhereelsetogo,untilIaccidentallybegforharder
Hiseyessparklewithmischief.“Harder?Haven’twecoveredthis?Iwanttokeepyou,notbreakyou.”
Mypalmhitshiscollarbone,shovinghimtothemattress,andIsinkdownhislengthbeforehecanprotest.Myheadfallsbackwardwithacryofunbridledpleasure,andCarterhissesbelow,liftingmeupandslammingmebackdownonhiscock,overandoveragain.
Hepushesupandcupsmybreast,takingitintohismouthasIridehim,sucking,nipping,andInearlyyankhishairrightoutofhishead.Thelookhegivesmewhenhepullsback,brushingmyclit,sendsmestraightoffthedeepend,andIcomealloverhiscock.
“Onemore,”hegrowls,pullingmeoffhim.Heflipsmeontomybelly,pullsmyheadtaut,andjerksmyassintotheairbeforehethrustsbackinsideme.“You’regonnagivemeonemore.”
Onemore?Ican’t.Mychestfallstothemattressaseveryboneturnslimp,butCarterhaulsmebackup,hotbreathrollingdownmyneck,shakingmyspine.
“We’redonewhenIsaywe’redone.”
“Carter,”Iwhimper.
“Fuckinglovewhenyousaymyname.”Hiswetmouthglidesupmyneck,teethgrazingtheshellofmyear.“Nowscreamit.”
Hishipsslapagainstmyassashedriveshimselfforward,once,twice,threemoretimes,andwhenhehitsthatspotIcanneverseemtofind,everynerveendingsizzlesandpops.Iripthesheetrightoffthebedanddowhatheasked:screamhisname.
Carterexplodesinsideofme,buryinghiscryinmyneck,clutchingmybodytohisasmykneesquiverandmyarmsgiveout,andwhenhepullsout,heleavesmefeelingsoempty.
Hewindsanarmaroundmywaistandtugsmeintohissideashecollapsestothemattress,andourbodies,slickwithsweatandheaving,sticktogether.
Iplacemypalmoverhischest,feelingthesteadythrumoftheheartbelow,andCartercoversmyhandwithhis,warmthspreadingthroughoutmybelly,crawlingupmychesttothatvitalorganI’mmeanttokeepsafe.
“CanIkeepyou?”heasks.
“Yes.”Myheartskitterstoastopatthesimpleanswerspokenwithoutthought,andonlywhenCartertiltsmychinandcapturesmymouthwithakissdoesitrestart.
It’sinthismomentthatIrealizehowearth-shatteringlyfuckedIam.CHAPTER15NOTAFAN,KARMACARTER
“Ohshit.Fuck.Shit,shit,shit.”
Crackingonespentlid,Isearchthroughthefoggymorninghaze,tryingtopinOlivia’spanickedvoice.I’mnotsurewhyshe’ssofrantic,andI’monlymildlyannoyedthatshe’swokenmefromthebestsleepofmylife.AnnoyedbecauseIwashavingtheverybestdream.Oliviaunderme,overme,herlips,herhands,herperfecttits.OnlymildlybecausenowIgettoliveoutthedreaminreallife.
Rollingontomyback,Iblindlysweepanarmovertheemptyspotbesideme.It’sstillwarmandIcansmellherallovermysheets,likeafreshbatchofcookies.Iwannaeatherrightup.
“Comebacktobed,Ollie.”Myvoiceisthickwithsleep.Isuckinashittonofaironanever-endingyawnandrubmyeyes.WhenIhearaloudcrashfollowedbyastringofcurses,Imanagetopullmyselftositting.
Olivia’sstarknaked—justthewayIlikeher—lyinginacrumpledheaponthefloor.
Ileanoverthebed,smiling.“Whatyoudoin’downthere,baby?”Fuck,I’mtired.
Herlipspartwithwhatlookslikehorrorbeforeherhandsflytoherchestinanattempttocoverherself.Ididn’texpecttheshynessthismorning,sansalcohol,butIguessitmakessense.
Keelingoverthesideofthebed,Irestapalmonthecoldhardwoodandreachonearmouttoher,hopingtopullherrightthehellbackupheresoIcanfuckherbacktosleep.We’vegotalldayandIdon’thavetraining;wecansqueezeinafewmorehours.
IswearIhadagoddamnepiphanylastnightwhilemyswordofthunderwasburiednineinchesdeepinsidethemostinsanelystunningwomanI’veeversparredwith.Ineverwantedtoleave,andthismorning,Istilldon’t.Ihopeshe’sokaywiththat,becauseI’mprettysureshejustgotherselfashadow.
Theshadowisme.I’mgonnabegluedtoherleglikeahorny,unneutereddogforalong-asstime.Maybeforever.Idon’tfuckinknow.IonlyknowI’mnotlettinggo.
Butshescootsbackward,snappingherjawtogetherwithascowl.“I’mnotyourbaby.”
Okay,soOlivia’snotamorningperson.Maybesheneedscaffeine.
“Doyouneedacoffee?”
Whoops.Wrongquestion.
Iresisttheurgetohideunderthecovers,insteadofferingheragrittyversionofmydelightfullycharmingsmilethatIthinksheloves/hates.Itdoesn’tseemtobehavingthedesiredeffect.
Oliviarocketstoherfeet,snatchingtheblanketoffmybodyasIpullmyselfbackuptothemattress.Shewrapsitaroundherselflikeshe’sgoingtoatogaparty.Shecould100percentpassforaGreekgoddess.
Shemakesathroatysound,widegazegluedto…
Mydick.He’shappytoseeherthismorning,givinghertheol’one-eyedsaluteashebobsaround.
“Goodmorning,”Isaywithachuckle.Iswivelmyhips,makinghimdance.“Allofmeishappytoseeallofyou.”
Christ,she’shardtocrackthismorning.Notevenasmilegracingthoseplumppinklips,justahandslappedacrosshereyes.
Icockabrow.“Youknowhegotwellacquaintedwithyourpalacelastnight,right?”
Oliviasureismakingalotofsoundstoday.Thisoneisallwhimper-moan,rightbeforesheturnsonherheelandmakesamaddashforthebathroom,slammingthedoorbehindher.
ButI’mnotshyandIdon’treallylikeboundaries,soIslipoutofbedandstrollrightthroughthatdoor.
Irunahanddownmytorso,givingitalittlescratchbeforeIfistthebaseofmycock,lookingatthebeautifulgirlwrappedinasheet,herdressinonehand,phoneintheother,andherenormousbrowneyessetonme,onlygrowingbiggerwitheverystepItake.
“Whatthefuckareyoudoing?Weshouldbeinbed,cuddling.”Orfucking.“Andthis…”ItrailafingeralonghercollarboneuntilIreachherfistwhereshe’sclutchingthesheettighttoherbody.“Idon’tcarewherethisgoes,aslongasitfuckinggoes.”
Itearthesheetaway,lettingitpoolatourfeet,andJesusChrist,couldhereyesgetanybigger?
Withtwohandfulsofherass,Ihoistheruptome,wrappingherlegsaroundmyhipsbeforeIpressheragainsttheglassshower.Ibitebackagroan,lettingitrumbleinmychest,becauseshe’ssoaking,herwarmthpressedupagainstme.
“You’regonnaneedtocancelanyplansyouhave.”Mymouthopensonherneck,coastingupitwithslow,wetkisses,andInipatherchin.She’sgotthetiniestdimplethere,rightinthecenter,andIloveit.“I’mkeepingyoualldamnday.”
Olivia’smouthopenslikeshe’sgoingtosaysomething,maybearguewithmethewayshelikesto.I’mnotinterestedinwordsrightnowthough,soIswallowthemupbeforeshehasachancetospeakthem.Sheclingstomybody,throwingherarmsaroundmyneckasherfingerscrawlintomyhair,grippingit.Herhipsroll,backarching,tryingtogetcloser.
“Fu-u-uck.”Hergarbledcrybreaksagainstthehotlashofmytongue.
“Perfect,”Imanageagainsttheonslaughtofkisses.“Christ,Liv,you’refuckingperfect.”
Herbreathsnagsinherthroat,andsuddenlyherpalmsshoveagainstmychest,pushingmeaway.
I’mconfused,butIalmostalwaysamwhenitcomestoher,becauseIcan’treadhermind.
Butwait.Maybewe’rejust—“Areweroughin’itup?”Iaskwithaslysmirk,prowlingtowardher.I’mintoit.I’mintoeverythingaslongasshe’spartofit.Ifshewantstopushmearound,I’llpushherrightback
Like,nicely.Butnottoonice.
“What?”Sheshakesherhead,slamminghereyesshutassheholdsherpalmsupinanattempttokeepmeatbay.“No,Carter.Stop.Please.”
Stop?What?No.Idon’twantto.ButIdo,andmyfacefalls.
“Why?Areyouokay?”Ilookheroverwithaslowsweep.ItgetsheatedonthewaydownandIwindupmakingthreepasses.“DidIhurtyoulastnight?”
Ireachforherrighthip,rightwheretherearefourroundbruisesthatperfectlymatchmyfingertips.Twistingher,Ifindmythumbprintonherbackside.She’salsocoveredinashittonoftinypurplehickeys.Apossessivegrowlripsthroughme,secretlylovingallthosemarks.Mine,mybrainshoutsout,andmythirdlegjumpswithagreement.
Oliviaswatsmyhandaway.“No,youdidn’t—”Shestops,coveringherfacebeforeshepicksupherdressandpushesbyme,pullingherdressoverherhead.“Ihavetogo.”
Sheforgoesthebra,choosinginsteadtohookitontoherwristbeforeshestartssearchingaroundthefloor,lookingforthethongIpeeledoffherlastnight,Iassume.Ineglecttotellherthatit’sinthepocketofmyjeans,whicharehalf-buriedunderthebed.
Scratchingmyheadandcuppingmyballs—she’sonherhandsandkneeswithherroundassintheair—Iaskher,“Gowhere?Doyouhaveplans?Ithoughtyouweregonnastayforbreakfast.”
Oliviaignoresme,givinguponthehuntforherundieswithagroanandherhandsintheair.Sheheadsforthedoor,yankingitopenandbarrelingdownthehall,andI’msofuckinglost.
Ithrowonapairofsweatsandchaseafterher,flyingdownthestairsbehindher.
Wrappingmyfingersaroundherelbow,Itugherbacktome.“Areyougonnasayanything?”Hereyesaretrainedonmytorso.“Orlookatme?”Iblowoutafrustratedbreathandplowmyfingersthroughmyhair.“Fuck,Ollie,I’msoconfusedrightnow.”
“Ihavetogo,”isallshewhispers.
“Gofuckingwhere?”ItcomesoutalotlouderthanIintend,’causeI’mgettingrealworkeduprightnow,andOliviaflinches.Pullinginabreaththat’smeanttosteadyme,Iplacemyhandsonhershoulders,rubbingdownherarms.“I’msorry.I’mjustalittlelost.Yousaidweweregonnatalkaboutus,and—”
Sheshakesoffmytouch.“Yousaidthat,notme.”
Iblinkdownather.She’sstillnotlookingatme.
“You-you-you—”Christ,isthisreallyhappeningrightnow?AmIstammering?“Youagreed!Yousaidwe’dtalkafterbreakfast!”
“Webothhadtoomuchtodrink.”Herexcuseisweakandsheknowsit.“Idon’tthinkweknewwhatweweredoing.”
Bull-fucking-shit.“Fuckinglookatmeifyou’regonnalietome,Olivia.”
SheflipshereyesuptomineandIdon’tlikewhatIsee.They’reredrimmed,herbottomlipwobbly.Whatthehellisgoingon?Thisissodamnsimple.There’snoreasontocry,becauseI’mrightfuckinghere,wantingher,likeIhavefromthefirstmomentIsawher.
Shedoesn’tsayanything,butthequickriseandfallofherchestletsmeknowthissituationisgettingtoher.Sowhythehellissheputtingusbothinitwhenit’sobviousit’snotwhereeitherofuswantstobe?I’mnotstupid.ThisshitI’mfeelingisn’tonesided.
“Sothat’sthat?Justanotherone-nightstand?Thanksforthesex,seeyounever?”
“It’swhatyouwant,”shetriestotellme,clutchingherphonetoherchest.
“Youdon’tknowthefirstthingaboutwhatIwant.Ifyoudid,youwouldn’tbeturningyourbackonmeandwalkingoutofhererightnow,claimingthiswasjustsexthatmeansfuckalltome,ortoyou.That’sbullshit.YouknowitandIknowit.”I’mnotafraidtoarguewithher.I’lldoitalldamndayifIthinkshe’swrong,andrightnow,sheis.
Sheducksaroundme,headingforthekitchen,steppingintotheheelssheleftthere.“Ihavetogo,Carter.”
“No,youdon’t.You’rerefusingtocommunicate.HereIamwantingtotalkaboutwhatthehellisgoingonbetweenus,andthereyouare,tryingtorunaway.”
“There’snothing—”
“Don’tyoufuckingsaythere’snothinggoingonbetweenus!”I’mshoutingagainandIhateit.IgetworkedupeasilyandI’mreallyonedgerightnow.I’mloudanddemandingandIliketobeincontrol,andrightnow,allI’mdoingislosingallsemblanceofcontrol.Thisgirlownsme—forsomefuckingreason—andIrefusetolethermakethewrongdecisionforbothofus.
SoIstalktowardher,backingherintothewall.Herwhiskeyeyeswiden,thatbottomlipdoingafulltremblenow.Igripherbiceps,willinghertolookatmeasIsteadymybreathing.
“Stopit.Stoppretendinglikeyouaren’tscaredoutofyourmindrightnow,likethathasn’tbeentheonlythingholdingyoubackthisentiretime.Andthat’snotmyegotalking,bytheway.It’smybrain,becauseIcanseewhat’srightinfrontofme,andthat’syou,beautiful,sarcastic,smart,strong,sensitive,andfuckingscaredofthewayyoufeelforsomeoneyouneverwantedorintendedtohavefeelingsfor.”
HerphoneslipsfromhershakinghandsandclatterstothegroundandIscoopitupbeforeshecan.Myfacefillsthescreen,exceptit’snotonlymine.Overandoveragain,pictureafterpictureofmewithmyarmwrappedaroundadifferentwoman,headingintomycondo,intohotels.
I’mnotsureifthat’stheworstpart.Itmightbetheheadline,theonewithtoday’sdatebeneathit.
“NewYear,SameCarter:CarterBeckett’sTwelveHottestConquestsandWhatWeCanExpectofHimThisYear”
IlooktoOlivia.Theweightoftheturmoilshewears,thesympathy,thefear,allofitisheavy,turningdowntheedgesofhermouth,guidinghergazedowncast.
“Thisisn’tme.”Itipherchinup,stealinghergaze.“Thisdoesn’thavetobeme.”
Hervoicecrackswhenshefinallyspeaks.“Howcanyoupromisethat?Webarelyknoweachother.Youadmittedlastnightthatyoudidn’tknowifarelationshipwaswhatyouwanted.Christ,Carter,lookatthat!”Shegesturesatherphoneinmyhand.“Ican’tcompetewiththat,noteveninmyownhead,whichiswhereit’smostimportant.YoumaythinkI’mstrongbutIhavenoqualmsadmittingthatI’mwaytooinsecuretopretendthathowmanygorgeouswomenyou’vebeenwithdoesn’tabsolutelyfuckingterrifyme,thatIwouldn’tbeconstantlywaitingforyoutogetboredofme.”Shepressesherfingertipstoherforeheadlikeshe’sgotaheadache.“Youhaveacondoforsex.”
It’stechnicallynotwhyIhaveit,moresowhyIhaven’tevergottenridofit,butI’mnotsuremakingthatdistinctionrightnowwouldhelpmycase
“Noneofthosewomenmeananythingtome,Olivia.”
“Igotsowrappedupinyoulastnight,lostsomuchcontrol,thatwedidn’tthinktowearacondom.That’ssoreckless.”
Irubatmyneck.“Idon’thavegirlshere,Olivia.Ever.Iwasn’tlying.”Maybeit’sapiss-poorexcuse,butIdon’thaveasinglecondomstashedinthehouse.Thecondo,sure,drawersfull.Idokeeponeinmywallet,butthatwasstoreddownhereintheentrywaytable,andintheheatofthemoment…“Areyounotonthepill?”Fuck.Didn’tIaskherthis?
“I’monthepill,but…”Shetrailsoffashergazesettlesonthelumpbetweenmylegs.
“I’mclean,”Iwhisper.IfIsounddefeated,it’sbecauseIfuckingam.She’snevergoingtogetovermypast.“That’sthefirsttimeI…”FirsttimeIwentinbare,butIdon’tfinishthatthoughtoutloud.“Igettested.”Mythroatistightanddry.“Idon’twantyoutogo.Ilikeyou,andyousaidyoulikemetoo.”
“Idolikeyou.Ilikewhatyou’veshownme,whatI’velearned,butthereareotherthingsI’veseen…”Shesqueezeshereyesshutandshakesherhead.“IwishIcouldoverlookeverythingelseandjumprightin.ButIdon’tknowhow,Carter,becausewhenIlookdown,there’snotasinglepartofmethatcanseetheground.Idon’twantmessyandscary.Iwantsteadyandsure.”
Steadyandsure,gotit.Icanbesteadyandsure.Icanfigureitout.
“Listen,IknowI’mnotboyfriendmaterial,butIcantry.Really,Ican.I’llbegood.I’ll-I’ll—”
Sheplacesherhandonmychest,stoppingme.“Idon’twantyoutochangeforme,Carter.This,us…Itwasamistake.”
Ouch.Istepback,rubbingmypalmacrossmychest,tryingtosoothethesharppainthatpassesthroughit.Olivia’sgazesoftensasshewatchesme.
“I’mnottryingtohurtyou.”
“Itsureashelldoesn’tfeelthatway,”Ibiteback,becauseeverythingfuckinghurts.
“I’msorry.Ireallyam.”
“Youdon’thavetobesorry.Youjusthavetotrustme.”
Hereyesfallshut,shouldersslumping.“IwishIcould,butIdon’tknowhowto.”Shereachesout,takingherhandinmine,clutchingittoherchest.“We’renotrightforeachother.”
“Howdoyouknowthat?EverythinghasfeltrightsinceImetyou.Ithasn’tbeeneasy,butit’sfeltright.”
Itwouldhavebeenna?veformetothinkitwouldbeeasy,thatwe’dbeabletofallintosomesortof…relationship.Butafterlastnight,Ithoughtshe’dgivemeachance.Ithoughtshe’datleastconsiderit.Considerme.I’mfuckingtryinghere.I’vedecidedwhatIwant.Isn’titsupposedtobeeasyfromhereonout?
Iunderstandthehesitation,thefear.HowcanInot?Themediaisn’tblowingsmoke;myreputationisexactlythewayit’sbeenpainted.She’sallowedtobeterrified.I’mterrified.I’minuncharteredwatershere.I’mscaredI’llhurther.I’mscaredIdon’tknowhowtobeapartner.I’mscaredthatthiscould…work.I’mscaredthatshecouldbemyforever.Christ,that’spetrifying.
Butrightnow,I’mmostterrifiedthatshe’sgoingtowalkoutthatdoorandnevercomeback.
“Idon’tknow,”sheadmits.“Idon’tknowanythingexceptthatI’mtooafraidofwalkingintosomethingthatfeelslikeaheartbreakwaitingtohappen.It’slikerunningintoaburningbuilding,Carter.We’retoodifferent,andtheonlywaythiscanendisupinflames.”
“Sometimesdifferentisgood,”Iarguequietly.“Ilikedifferent.”
Thecornerofhermouthliftswithasadsmile,andIknow.She’sleaving,evenifthere’sapartofherthatbegshertostay,evenifallofmebegstoo.
“Weshouldn’thavehadsex,”Iwhisper.Shetoldmelastnightthatshecouldn’ttrustmeenoughtomoveforward,andyetwheneverythingfellawayforafewhours,alltheinsecurities,theapprehension,thehopefulpartofmybrainthoughtthosethingsmightbegoneforever.Butfearsdon’tdisappearovernight.EvenIknowthat.
“No,”sheagrees,squeezingmyhand.“Weshouldn’thave.AndI’msorry,becauseI’mtheonewhoinitiatedit.ItooksomethingIwantedbuttoldmyselfIcouldn’thave.Youwouldhaveneverpushedmeintoit.”
Andthenwewouldn’tbehere,withherwalkingoutonmelikeshehaseveryintentionofputtingtoomuchspacebetweenus,toomuchdistanceIdon’twantatall.IfIgiveherspace,willshecomearound?Givemeachance?
“Isitforever?”Iaskassheslipsherarmsintohercoat.“Good-bye?”
Sheliftsherhead,wateryeyessearchingmineassilencehangsheavyinthespacebetweenus.AllIcanhearistherapidthump-thumpofmyangry,bruisedheart,theshiftofOlivia’sfeet.Shedoesn’twantittobeforever,thesameasme,butIcantellbythelookinhereyesthatit’sthewayshethinksitneedstobe,sobeforeshecananswer,Ibeathertoit.
“Youleavingrightnowdoesn’tchangehowIfeelaboutyou,anditwon’tchangeyourfeelingsformeeither.Iknowyou’rehopingthey’lldisappearsoyoudon’thavetodealwiththewayI’vebeenlivingmylife,buttheywon’t.Runningfromthingsyou’reafraidofwon’tgetyouveryfar.”
Iheadbacktothekitchen,pullingopenthedrawerIslammedshutinahurrywhenAdamsweptOliviaintohisarmslastnight.Itakeoutthesmallpackagewrappedinbrownpaperwithlittlewhitestars,theburlapbowtiedarounditwithatinyjinglebell.ItriedwrappingitmyselffivetimesoverbeforeIfinallyenlistedmysister’shelp.
ImeetOliviaatthedoor,andalumpformsinthebackofmythroatasIletmyselftakeherinonelasttime.Evenwhenshe’sleavingme,she’sstillbeautiful.
“Doyouneedaride?”Iask.
“Thankyou,butIorderedanUber.”
Inodasshepullsthedooropenandstepsontotheporch.
“Ollie?”
Everythinginthewaysheholdsherselftellsmeit’stakingeverythinginhernottofallapartrightnow.
“Justsowe’reclear,you’retheonewho’swalkingawayrightnow.Thisisn’twhatIwant.”
Ituckthesmallgiftintohersurprisedhands.“MerryChristmasandHappyNewYear.”CHAPTER16FEEDINGMYFEARSOLIVIA
TodayisoneofthosedayswhereItrulyhavezerocluewhatI’mdoingwithmylife.Everythingfeelslikeit’shanginginthisdelicatebalance,swayingbackandforthwithmyownindecision,mydesirestippingthescaleononeside,andmyfearsontheother.BothareheavyandIdon’tfeellikeIcangetahandleoneither.Instead,itfeelslikeeverythingisreadytoteeterandcrashbeforeinevitablygoingupinflames.
ExceptIthinkthingsmighthavealreadygoneupinflames.
Icancontinuetoblamealcoholfordecisionsmade,butthetruthissimple:Ifeltweak.IexploredamanI’vebeenslowlygettingtoknow,peekedbehindhiscurtain,andIconsciouslygavein.Igaveintothemagneticpull,therawdesire,andthegenuineconnection,andIletmybodyandmyheartlead.
It’snotasifallthefearssimplymeltedawayinthosemoments.Theydidn’t;theywereneverfar.I’djustdecidedthatitwasworthit,thathewasworthit,andIclosedmyeyesandjumped.AsIfellasleepwithhisbodylockedaroundmine,keepingmewarm,Itoldmyselftobreathe,thatwe’dfigureitouttogetherinthemorning.
Andyetwhenthewarmsuntouchedmyskinandwokeme,myhearthammeredwithapprehensionatthehandsplayedovermybelly,thefacestuffedinmyneck.Mychesttightenedandmybellytumbled,butIclosedmyeyesandwilledthefearaway,theonethattoldmetorun
I’dwriggledoutofhisarmsandplayedonmyphonewhileIwaitedforhimtowake,andthefirstthingthatlookedupatmewhenIopenedInstagramwashissmilingfaceasheusheredaleggybrunettethroughthedoorsofahighrise,hishandonherass.I’dmadethemistakeoffindingthearticle,wherethey’dlinedupCarter’stoptwelvefucksoftheyear,ratingthembasedonthingsastrivialasfacialattributes,physique,fashion,andjobs.
FearwhisperedthatI’dneverbeabletostackup.
Fearremindedmehehadaseparatehometobringhisone-nightstands.
FearscreamedinmyfacethatIwouldn’tbeenoughtokeepamanlikeCarterinterested.
Feartoldmetorun,toleavebeforehecouldhurtme.
Fearisafunny,ficklething.It’stheretoprotectyou,tokeepyoufromgettinghurt,aglaringneonsignthatwarnsyoufromgettingtooclose,tellsyoutobackupbeforeit’stoolate.Butitkeepsyoustuck,weigheddowninonespot,likefeetstuckinmud.Andmoreoftenthannot?Yougethurtanyway.Sometimes,liketoday,youhurtthepersonyoucareaboutintheprocesstoo.
ThethingisthatI’mallowedtobescared.I’mallowedtobehesitant,andI’msureashellallowedtosay“No,thisisn’tforme,”or“No,I’mnotready.”ButCarterstoodthere,beggingformetostay,tocommunicate,togivehimadamnchance,toprovethathecouldbedifferent.Andinsteadofsittingwithmyfear,talkingthroughit,Igaveitwings,tiedmyselftoit,andwatchedittakeflightwithmeattached.Iletitcontrolme,andIhatethat.
ButrightnowIdon’tknowhownotto
Idon’tknowhowtoputmyheartonthelineforamanwho’sneverbeeninterestedinarelationship.Idon’tknowhowtoopenmyselfsowhollytosomeonewhomaynot,intheend,beabletoreciprocate,tokeepmyheartsafe.
Ijust…don’tknow.That’stherealityoflifesometimes.
Iswipeatearfrommycheekassoonasitfalls,becausethroughalltheindecision,theystillfeelunwarranted.ButeverytimeIreadthenoteinmyhands,myeyespricklealloveragain.It’shappenedoften,becauseI’veyettoputthesmallpieceofcardstockdown,thesmellofcedarwoodandcitrusclingingtoit,ascentI’mnotreadytolose.
SoIreadthenotefortheseventhtime.
Olivia,
MerryChristmasandHappyNewYear.
Iknowthisyearwillbethebestoneyet,becauseImetyou.
Carter
Thekicker?Thetinyheartscribblednexttohisname.
Thelumpinmythroatdipstomychest,makingeverythingtightanduncomfortable.Iplacemypalmontheache,willingittogoaway,butitdoesn’t.
Givingup,Iadmiretherosegoldchaininmyhand,lettingitslipthroughmyfingerslikerunningwater.It’snotanecklace,butalanyardformyschoolIDbadge.Thedelicatechainbreakseveryfewincheswithsmalldiamond-encrustedhoops,amatchingrosegoldwhistlehangingoffaclip.
Mythumbrubsmethodicallyoverthewordsetchedintothecircularpendantconnectingthechaintotheclip.MissParkeritsaysononeside.Turningitoverinmypalm,Ismilethroughmyquicklyblurringvisionatthewordsontheback:World’shottestteacher.
Butmyfavoritepart?Thetinyhockeyskatecharmthatdanglesnexttothewhistle.Thisgiftisthoughtfulandpractical,beautiful,andIwalkedaway,leavinghimtostartabrandnewyearbyhimself,whenallheaskedmetodowasstay,totrusthim.
It’snotaquestionoftrustinghisintentions.Imaynotknowallofhim,butIknowhimwellenoughtounderstandthathedoesn’tlie.Ifhedid,he’dprobablybebetterattalkingtowomen,ormorespecifically,me.Infact,ifhelied,there’sasolidchanceIwould’vefoundmyselfinhisbedthatfirstnightwemet.
Whenhetellsmehe’lltry,Ibelievehim.It’sthatIdon’tknowifIcantrustthathe’llbeableto,thathe’sreallythoughtthisout,thatsomethinghasabsolutelychangedforhiminthelasttwelvehoursthat’smadehimsuddenlyreadyforarelationship.
It’sthatIdon’twanttobeagirlwhosefacegetssplashedonthetabloids,sprinkledalloversocialmedia,labeledandjudgedwhenhemightchangehismind.Heartacheishardenoughtodealwithprivately;Ihavenodesiretobeforcedtodoitsopublicly.
It’salreadyamiraclethatI’vesomehowavoidedmybrotherJeremyfindingoutthatCarterandIhavebeenspendingtimetogether.I’vebeencaughttuckedintohissideatafundraiser,pictureddancinginadarkbar,myfaceonafuckingjumbotronatahockeygamewithfifteenthousandfans,andsomehowtheonlypeopletohavecaughtonareafewofmystudents,oneswhoquicklybelievedmewhenIsaidhewasafriendofmine.Jeremywouldn’tbuythatbullshitforasecond.
Myphonelightsuponmybed,nexttomyknee,andIswallowhardwhenCara’sfacepopsup.She’llwantdetails,onesI’mnotreadytoshare.ThatmeansadmittinghowdeepI’vealreadyfallen,howIactedoutoffear,andthatI’mnotsureIcanmakeitrightbecauseI’mnotsureI’mbraveenoughtotrythis.
Cara’sneverscaredofanything.Sheknowswhatshewantsandshegoesafteritwithoutasecondthought.IwishIwerethatsureofmyself.
Iclearmythroatandliftmyphonetomyear.“Hey,you.”
“Hi,hi,hi,babe!”Waytoogiddyforthisparticularmorning.“YoustillatCarter’s?We’recomingtoseeyoutwo.Putsomeclotheson.”BeforeIcangetawordout,shesnickersandgoeson.“Anddon’ttrytotellmeyoudidn’tgetdownanddirtywithhim.Yourbadintentionswerewrittenalloveryourfacewhileyouwerebouncingaroundinhisbed,goingonabouthowyouwere‘justgonnasleep.’”IswearIcanseetheairquotessheputsaroundthoselastfewwords.
ThelaughIforceiscringeworthy.Despitemydad’sinsistencethatI’mhighlydramaticandwouldmakeagoodactress,I’dmakeashitone.Ihavebigfeelings,whichmakesthemdifficulttoswallowdown.
“I’mathome,Care.”
Thelinegoessilentforsolong,Icheckmyscreentomakesurethecallisstillconnected.Itis.ThemuffledsoundofherdirectingEmmetttomyhouseinsteadofCarter’scomesbeforeherviciouswords.
“Whatdidhedo?Hisassisfuckinggrass,Liv,Iwillkillhim.Isweartoallthatisholy,I’lldoit.I’llgotojailforyou.”
Herfierce,protectivenatureiswhatmakeshersuchagoodfriendandpersontohaveinyourcorner.TheproblemisthatI’mnotsuresheshouldbeinminerightnow.She’dneverleave,becauseshe’salwaysbeenmyshoulderandmehers,butshewon’thumormeandtellmeIwasrightifshethinksIwaswrongeither.
“Carterdidn’tdoanything.”
“Ifyou’retryingtoprotecthimfrommywrath—”
“Iappreciateyourferocity,Cara,butIpromiseyou,Carterdidnothingwrong.”
Anotherbeatofsilence,followedbygentlewords.Caracangofromfeistyandterrifyingtotenderandlovingwiththeflipofaswitchwhenherbigmommainstinctskickin.“Thenwhyareyousad?Icanhearitinyourvoice,andI’mprettysureCarterhadplanstokeepyouallday.EmandIheardsomethingaboutaturkeydinner.”
Agenuinelaughbubblesinmythroat,evenifit’ssmall.Iwipeadropofwetnessawaywiththeheelofmypalm.“Hepromisedturkey.Andmoviesandsnugglesandtalking.”
“Butyou’renotwithhim.”
“No.”
“It’sokaytobescared,Ollie,”sheassuresmequietly,readingmethewayshealwaysdoes.“Weallfeelthatwaysometimes.We’regonnagetthroughit,okay?Whateverthatlookslike.”
Myheartswellsalittleinmychest.“Thanks,Care.”Iclearmythroatandwaveadismissivehandaround.“Anyway.Enoughaboutmeandmyself-inflictedproblems.What’sup?Whyareyoucomingover?”
Theinstantaneouswaysheperksupisobvious,apalpableenergythatleaksthroughthephone.“Iguessyou’llhavetoopenyourfrontdoorandfindout.”
Thelinediesatthesametimeknockssoundonmydoor.
Okay,it’snotknockingatall.I’mprettysurethere’sanentirebodybeingslammedintothedoor.
Iscootoutofbed,tuggingthesleevesofmyhoodieovermypalmsandhikingupmysweatpantsbeforeIheaddownthehall.
ThemomentIopenthedoor,abodycollideswithmine.Longlimbswraparoundmeandtakemestraighttotheground,andInearlydrowninCara’sblondelocks.
Shepullsback,theexpressionshewearsnothingshortofterrifying,butinahappykindofway,thekindthatletsmeknowshe’sbeenshriekingandjumpingupanddownalldamnmorning.
Sheshovesherhandinmyface,anobnoxiouslyhugeandutterlystunningdiamondpressedagainstthetipofmynose.
“Hi,maidofhonor!”CHAPTER17OREOS,SOULMATES,&FUCKUPSCARTER
I’mashitactor.Thesepastfewdayshavedonenothingbutprovethat.Idon’thaveacluehowtoshakewhatI’mfeeling,theconfusion,thefuckinganguish.Ifeellikealostpuppy,andIknowIlooklikeonetoo.
MostlybecauseGarrettkeepspokingmycheekandsayingsoeverytimehecatchesmefrowning.Admittedly,that’sprettyoftenthesedays.Hecalledmeamopeyballsackyesterday.Adamtellshimtobenicetome,butImostlyignoreit.Idon’tknowhowtotalktothemaboutthewayI’mfeeling.Ithinktheyallexpectedmetosimplymoveon.Tobehonest,IkindahopedI’dmoveontoo.
Whenitcomestorelationships,Ican’tthinkofmuchworsethanfeelingsoalone,andthat’showIfeelnowthatOlivia’stryingtoshutmeout.
ButIdon’thavetobeanexperttoknowthatrelationshipsarehard.AllIhavetodoislookaroundthisbaratmyteammates.Guysthataren’treadytosettleandgiveuptheirfreedom.Onesthatcan’tfindapartnerwho’sinitforthemandnottheirmoney.Ofthefewthataremarriedorinseriousrelationships,onlyacouplearefaithful.Sometimesitfeelsliketherearemoreshitexamplesthantherearegood.
AseedofenvyrootsinmystomachasIwatchEmmettgrindownathisphone.There’sapartofmethatthinksImightwantwhathehas,formywholelifeofftheicetobewrappedupinagirlwhomakesmehappy,someoneIcanbemyselfwith.
ButthenIcatchsightofAdamashecheckshisphonefortheumpteenthtimetonight,frowningatthelackofmessagesfromhisgirlfriend.Thesamegirlfriendwhohasn’tbeentoasinglehomegameinoveramonth,whoranginthenewyearalonebecauseshedidn’tfeellikecoming.AdamhadwhatEmmetthas,andnowitfeelslikehejust…doesn’t.
Inudgehimwithmyelbowwhenhetuckshisphoneaway.“EverythingokaywithyouandCourt?”
“Hmm?”Hesighs,runningahandthroughhishair.“Honestly,man,Ihavenoclue.She’ssodistant.NeverwantstodoanythingandhardlyanswersmymessageswhenI’maway.Youknowhowshesaidshewasn’tinthemoodforyourparty?WhenIgothome,shewaswasted,gettingundressedfromwhereverthefuckshe’dbeen.”
Fuck.“Didyoutalktoheraboutit?”
“Tried.ShesaidIwasmakingabigdealoutofnothingandsleptinthespareroom.Thenextmorning,sherefusedtotalkaboutit.”
Idon’tknowwhattosay.Ihave,like,zeroexperiencewithadultrelationships,thatmuchisclearbynow.I’vebasicallybeenfuckingmywaythroughmytwentieswithoutacareintheworld,otherthanensuringIhavearubbersecuredtomydickbeforeIstickitsomewherehotandwet.Ihavenothingofvaluetoaddtothisconversation.It’sprobablybestIkeepmymouthshutbecauseifIsayanything,it’llprobablybedumpher
Soinstead,ItellhimI’msorry.
ThisiswhyIdon’tdorelationships.They’recomplicatedandmessyanditseemslikepeoplespend99percentofthetimebeingmiserable,jealous,angry,orworried.
Exceptmyparents.There’sareasontheonlythingI’llsettleforissomethingliketheyhad.
Becauseitwaspure.Itwasn’tugly,boggeddownbynever-endingresentmentortoxicity.Momusedtotellusthosesmoothbitscamewithtime,thatnothingiseverperfectinthebeginning,andevenwhentheyseemperfectlateron,they’renot.Buttome,toanyoutsiderlookingin?Itsureashelllookedperfect.
IwatchedmydadspinmymomaroundthekitcheneverydayofmylifeuntilImovedout.Ilistenedtotheirstories,theirlaughter.Theylovedhard,anditwaspalpable.IcouldalwaysfeelitasmuchasIcouldseeit.
Butmymom’sbeenlivingwithabrokenheartforthelastsevenyears,onlyIdon’tthinklivingistherightword.Morelikesurviving.She’sbeensurviving,andbarely.
Andthat’sterrifying.Ican’timaginelovingsomeonethatmuch,losingyourotherhalfandnotknowinghowtogoon.I’mnotinterestedinfeelingthatlevelofhurt.Icanbarelyhandlekeepingmymomafloatsomedays.
Nowhere’sAdam,oneofmybestbudsandthekindestguyIknowwiththebiggestheart,andhelookslikehe’salreadygoingthroughit,eventhoughhe’sstillwithhisgirlfriend.
SomaybeOliviawalkingoutonmewasforthebest.Thefeelingsarealreadythere,strongerthanIrealized.ThelastthingIneedtodoisgoandfallinloveorwhateverthehellyoudoinrelationships,onlytoinevitablywinduplikeAdam,orworse,likemymom.
Idon’twanttobefractured;Iwanttobewhole.Andmaybebeingwholebyyourselfisbetter.
Thethoughtsettlesuncomfortablyinmystomach,likemybody’sfightingit,tellingmetohangon,butmybraindoesn’tknowthatwecan.BythetimetheguysandImakeitbackuptooursuitetoplayagameofCODandsettleinforthenight,Idon’tknowwhetherI’mclosertobeingoverOlivia,orhavesomehowmanagedtofallharderforawomanIhaven’tseenortalkedtoindays.
“You’reextraintothoseOreoslately,eh,buddy?”Adam’seyesshineashewatchesmetearopenapackageandstufftwoinmymouthwhilesimultaneouslypullingonsweatpants.
WekickedassinCalgaryearliertonight,nothankstome.Irackedupsixpenaltyminutes,gotanearfulfrommycoachforbeingashittyleader,andnowthatI’vehadabeerandaplatterofnachostomyself,Ifullyplanonstuffingmyfacewithsugarandcollapsingonthecouch.
“Can’tstop,won’tstop,”Imumblearoundmycookies.Fudgedippedtoday.Iliketoswitchitup,andallflavorsaregood.Exceptcarrotcake.Ilovecarrotcake,butinmycookie?Nofuckingthanks.
“He’seatinghisfeelings.”Garrettpatsmybelly.“Aren’tya,bigfella?”
Ihithimwithajudochopwhenhereachesintomypackage,andthentwirlawaywhenhetriestothrowhimselfatme,makinggrabbyhandsatmycookies.
“Getthefuckouttahere.”Ikickmylegout,hittinghisstomach,keepinghimatbay.
“Share,”hewhines.“Iwantsome.”
“Youdon’tgetshit.YousaidIwaseatingmyfeelings.”
Hisshoulderspopupinashrug.“Well,youare.You’reamopeyballsack,andyou’vecrushednearlythatentirepackagetoday.Sogimmeonebeforethey’regone.”
Rollingmyeyes,Itossacookieintheair,watchingasGarretteagerlycatchesitinhismouthlikeadogwithabone.Emmettchuckles,floppingdownonthecouchandpullingouthisphone.
Thingshavebeenalittleweirdwithhim.HesaidOliviaandIshouldn’thavehadsex,andIknowthat,butsometimeshindsightistwenty-twenty.Otherthanthat,he’sbeenmoreonthereservedside.ThisistheguythatwentstreakingwithmethroughdowntownVancouverafterourNHLdebutandashittonofbooze.He’snotreserved.
“Emmy!”MyheadcranksatCara’svoicefilteringoutofEmmett’sphone.He’sgotheronaFaceTimecall,andshe’swrappedupinablanketlikeMotherTeresa.“Imissyou,”sheslurs.“Showmeyourdi—”
“I’mwiththeguys,”Emmettcutsheroffquickly.“Pleasedon’tfinishthatsentence.”
Carapoutsandthenquicklylightswhenshespiesmeoverhisshoulder.“Yousuckedtonight,bud.Staythehelloutofthepenaltybox.”
IflipherthebirdandtwistanotherOreoapart.
“Whatareyoudoin’,babe?”Emmettslipsahanduphisshirt,rubbinghistorso.It’sastrategicmove,Ithink,becausehegrinsatCaraandwagshisbrows.
Shestartstracingtheshapeofherlipswithherpointerfinger,andthere’sasolidbeatofsilencebeforeshesnapsoutofit,shakingherhead.“LivvieandIarehavingasleepoverandgettingwinedrunk.”
Myheartstopsathername,andsodoesmyhand,onmywaytomymouth,mytonguewaiting,drooling,readyforthaticing,andhopefullyashotofOlivia.InsteadIgetashotofthecoffeetable,litteredwithwinebottles,emptytake-outcontainers,andjunkfood.
AslysmilecrawlsupCara’sfacebeforethecameralandsonashell-shockedbrunette.“Sayhi,Ol!”
Olivia’sgotherhairpiledontopofherheadinabunmessierthantheonemysisteralwayswears,theoneItellherlookslikeabirdmadeanestonherhead.She’swearingtherattiesthoodieI’veeverseen,coveredinpaintsplotchesandholes,andshe’sstillfuckingbeautiful.
Herwideeyeslockonmine,cheeksblazing,handhangingthereinmidair,holdingontoa…
AgoddamnOreo.
Woman’smyfuckingsoulmate.
Thesilenceisdeafening.Noone’ssayingadamnthing,watchingtoseehowthisplaysout.
GarrettripsopenabagofDoritosinslowmotion,gazericochetingbetweenmeandthephonescreenashebringsachiptohismouthattheliteralpaceofasnail.Thedrawn-outcruncheshavemeconsideringallsortsofviolence,andAdam’sbodystuttersashetriestoholdbackhislaughter.Emmettmakesthiscough-snortsound,bodyshakinguntilhefinallycan’tholditinanymore.
EmmettandAdamfoldoverwithboominglaughterandOliviatugsthecollarofherhoodieuptohernose,droppinghergazeandhercookie.Iwatchhershrinkbackfromthescreen,andmyheartsinkswitheveryinchshemovesfartherawayfromme,thoughshe’snotreallyhereanyway.
“Ihavetogotothebathroom,”sheliesquietly.Igetalookattheloosesweatpantshanginglowonherhips,watchinghertugthemupasshestands,flashingmeahintofthatcreamyskinIlovesomuchbeforesheslinksaway,leavingmewonderingwhenI’llseehernext.
ThecameratogglesbacktoCaraandshemakesaface,allwideeyedandgrimacing.“Man,sheisgonnakillmeforthatlater.”
Garrettshovesahandfulofchipsinhismouthandshrugs.“Well,youdidsayyouwantedtoseeher.”
Seeher?Shecan’tevenfuckinglookatme.ThisisnothinglikethereunionIhadinmind.
Everythingaboutthisfuckingsucks.
***
I’mstompingofftheiceinmyskatesbeforethebuzzerfinishesringing,throwingmyglovesoffthesecondIshovemywayintothechangeroom.
“Fuck!”Tearingmyhelmetoff,Imakemywaytothesink,whereIletthewaterrunpastthepointoffrigidbeforesplashingitovermysweatyface.Myskinfeelslikeit’ssizzling,andeverybitoftensionI’mcarryingknotsinmyback,mychest.
“Beckett!”
Myheaddropsatmyname,thepersonwhobarksit.Mygriponthesinktightensuntilmyknucklesturnwhite,thoughIknewthiswascoming.
“Overhere.Now!”
Ifollowmycoachthroughthechangeroom,pasttheapprehensivestareofmyteammates,untilweroundthecorner,givingusafakesenseofseclusion.Theymaynotbeabletoseeus,butIknowfromexperiencethatthey’llbeabletoheareverysinglewordofthisverbalbeatdown.
“Whatinthehellhasgottenintoyou?”Coach’seyesblazewithire,faceredandtwisted.“We’reonlytwentyminutesdownandyou’vespentfiveofthoseminutesinthegoddamnpenaltyboxagain!”
Iknowbetterthantohangmyheadinshame;it’llgetmenowherewithCoach.Ownmymistakesandcommittonotrepeatingthem,that’swhatIneedtodo.“Itwon’thappenagain,sir.”
“Tellthattoyourfuckingteam.You’retheirleaderandyou’relettingthemdown.We’redownagoalbecauseoftheshityoupulledoutthere!”
Hisangerisjustified.Myhead’supmyasstonight.I’mdistracted,evenmoresothanI’vebeenthislastweek.SeeingOliviaonthevideocalltwonightsago,howshecouldn’tgetawayfrommefaster,itfuckedmeupmorethanIcaretoadmit.
I’vebeenmakingaconsciousefforttoturnawayeverywomanpostgameatthebars.I’vebeentryingsohard,beensogood,inhopesthatshe’swatching,thatshe’llseemechangingandherfearwilldisappear.It’snotworking,andthefactthatshe’sbecomingsuchadistractiontomedespitethedistancemakesmyheadsuchacloudy,jumbledmessofaplacetobe.
Onenight.OnedamnnightwiththisgirlandI’mfuckingwrecked.Whythehellcan’tIshakethis?
Idon’tknowwhatCoachseesonmyface,buttheremustbesomethingthere—defeat,probably—becausehisgazesoftens.
Withagravellysigh,hescrubsahanddownhisface.“Look,Carter,Icantellsomething’sgoingonwithyou.Thisisn’tyou.You’remorelevelheadedthanthisontheice.Youneverfailtolead,butlately…latelyyourheadisn’tthere.”Hepatsmyshoulderasifthat’lloffermeanycomfort.Itdoesn’t.“Yougottashakethis.”
I’mfuckingtrying.
“Idon’tknowifyou’veswitchedupyourroutineorsomething,butwhateveritis,gobacktowhatyouweredoingbefore.Thatwasworkingforyou.FindtheCarterBeckettweallknowandlove.”
ButwhatifIdon’tlovethatversionofme?WhatifIdon’twanttobethatCarterBeckettanymore?
That’swhateveryonewantsthough,sothat’swhatIgivethem.
Iheadbacktotheiceforthesecondandthirdperiods,andIwhipmyassintogear.Imanagetostayoutofthepenaltybox,scoreagoal,andgetanassist,leadingourteamtoanothervictory.Coachishappyafterthegame,evenifI’mnot.
“Carter!Canwegrabyouforaninterview?”
I’mhellbentonignoringthehoardsofreporterswaitinginthehallwayaswemakeourwaybacktothechangeroomafterthegamehasended,butCoachwrapshishandaroundmypaddedelbow,stoppingme.
“He’dlovetochat.Wouldn’tyou,Beckett?”
Buryingmygroanbecomesnearimpossibleasrecordersandcamerasareshovedinmyface,denyingmeprivacy.
“Youstruggledtherethatfirstperiod,Carter,”onereportersays.“Seemslikeyou’vebeenstrugglingalot.”
Draggingahandthroughmysweat-soakedhair,Isigh.“Uh,yeah,I’ve,uh,beenfeelingabitofflately.Gettingoverabitofabug.”Thelierollseasilyoffmytongue.“Tryingtogetmybuttingearthough,”Iaddwithaforcedgrin.
“Youturneditaroundinthesecondandthird.Whatchanged?”
“Um,I—”
“IsitOlivia?”
Myhandstopsitsskimofmyjawlineatthementionofhername.“Pardon?”
“Olivia.Thegirlfromafewweeksago.Youdedicatedyourgoaltoherandwereseendancingtogetherthesamenight.ItlookslikeshewasthesamegirlyouhadwithyouatthefundraiserforTheFamilyProject,butshehasn’tbeenseensince.”
Myjawtightens.“What’syourquestion?”
“Didyoutwobreakup?Wereyoudating?Orwasshejustanotherflavorof—”
“I’mnottalkingaboutOlivia.”
“Canyoutellusherlastname?Whoisshetoyou?Whatdoesshedo?”
“Un-fucking-believable.”Isqueezemyeyes,adarkchucklerumblingbeneathmybreath.Withastepforward,Itoweroverthereporterwhohasthenervetokeeppushing.Idon’tlikebeingpushed,andthewayhestumblesbackwardahalfsteptellsmehefinallyseesthat.“Olivia’spersonallifeisnoneofyourdamnbusiness.Drophername,becauseIcanguaranteeyoumybiteisasviciousasmybark.”
ThecrowdclearsasIpushthroughtothechangeroom.“Interview’sover.”
Mywarpathdoesn’tendthere,though.Infact,witheachpassingmoment,myfrustrationamplifies,myanger,myfuckingconfusion.Ihatethis,andIdon’tknowhowtochangeit.
Thisisn’tme;mycoachisright.Ineedtodosomethingtofixthis,andIneedtodoitquick.That’swhyImakeabeelineforCaraassoonasIstepinsidethebarafterthegame.
ButEmmettbeatsmetoher,spinningheraroundasshetakeshisfaceinherhandsandkisseshim.Justoverayeartogetherandtheyhaven’tlostthatsparkyet.Ithinkthey’reoneofthoseluckycoupleswhoneverwill,theeasykindwhereeverythingfallsintoplacerightfromtheget-go.
Carasetsherphonedownbeforethetwoofthemheadofftothebar,andIslideintoherspot.I’mnotentirelyproudofmyselfasIscoopherphoneup,readytopluckOlivia’snumberfromit.Maybeluckisfinallyonmyside,becausethescreenisalreadyopenedtoamessagethreadwiththefierybrunette.
Cara:Urdateropeyouintobreakfasttomorroworwhat?
Olivia:Duh.Isitevenarealdateifitdoesn’tendwithbreakfast?
Blooddrumsinmyears,thewordsinfrontofmesendingarawachethroughmychestasawarenesssettlesoverme.She’smovedon,onfromwhateverthehellthiswas,orwhateveritwasn’t.Becauseitwasn’teveranything,wasit?Nothingmorethanundeniablechemistryandphysicalattraction,pairedwithsomefoolishnotionthatarelationshipmightbesomethingIwanted,thatOliviaandImightbegoodtogether.
WhythehelldidIeverthinkthiswasagoodidea?
Coachwasright.Thisnewmeisn’tworking.IneedtogetbacktotheoldCarterBeckett.ThatCarterwouldn’tgivetwoshitsaboutthisrightnow.He’dburyhisfeelingsinsomethinghotandwet.
Andthat’sexactlywhatI’mgoingtodo.
Mygazesweepsthebar,bouncingaroundallthehopefulstaresuntilIfindwhatI’mlookingfor.
Tall.Platinumblonde.Railthin.Wigglingherfingersatmewithawink,swingingonehipoutinadressthatlooksmoreliketheleftoverscrapsofasewingprojectgonewrong.
TheexactoppositeofOlivia.
“Mr.Beckett.”Shetrailsaglossyblacknaildownmytiebeforeslingingherarmsovermyshouldersandsinkingherfingersinmyhair.“Don’tyoulookhandsome.”
MyeyescloseatwhatI’mabouttodo,liketheydon’twanttoseethistrainwreckofadecisiongodown.“Wannagetouttahere?”
“Whatdoyouwannado?”
Christ,Idon’thavetimeforthisshit.“YouknowwhatIwannado.”
Shewrapsmytiearoundherfistandhaulsmecloser.Theperfumeshe’swearingissuffocating.“Igotanewtattoo,”shewhispers.
“Cool.”Idon’tfuckingcare.“Can’twaittoseeit.”
Anotherrepeatoffender.BrandyorMandyorfuckingCandy.Idon’tknoworparticularlycare.AllIknowisI’vefuckedherbeforeanditwasdecentenough.HopefullydecentenoughtoknockmeoffwhateverthishellholeofarollercoasterI’mstuckonis,becauseIdon’twannaridethisfuckingrideasecondlonger.
“Let’sgo.”IhatemyselfthesecondIclapmyhandoverherass,andevenmorewhenIslipmyhandintohersandtugheroutthedoor.
Thiswinterisfuckingkickingmyass.Mountainsofsnowandfrigidairthatslapsatyourcheeks,neitherofwhicharetypicalofawestcoastwinter.PartofmekeepsequatingthewayI’mfeelingtothosewinterbluespeopletalkabout,butasIstalkdownthesidewalkwithCandyBrandy’shandinmine,Iknowit’sbecausethishanddoesn’tfeelright.
Noneofitfeelsright.
Idon’thaveasinglecluewhatI’mdoingrightnow,whyIthoughtthismightbetherightwaytodealwiththewayI’mfeeling.NofuckingshitOliviadidn’ttrustmetochange,tobedifferentthanI’vebeen.ThisrighthereprovesI’mthesameguyfuckinghisproblemsaway.Thefeelingthatmydadwouldbesoutterlydisappointedinmehitsmelikeatruck.
Mycondocomesintoviewuptheroad,andpanicracesupmyspineatthesightofcameraswaitingtoseewhoI’mbringinghometonight.I’msotiredofhavingmypicturesplashedeverywhere,havingmyprivatelifeupforeveryonetosee.Idon’twanttobethispersonanymore,socareless,recklesseven.Iwanttobethesteadypersonsomeonecancounton.IwanttobethepersonIcancounton.
Ishovemyfingersthroughmyhair,tuggingattheendsasIcometoastop.“WhatthehellamIdoing?”
Brandy—Mandy?—slidesherpalmbeneaththecollarofmycoat,lashesfluttering.“Me,inabouttwominutes.”
Myheadwags,tensioncoilingbeneathmyskin.Pressingmypalmsintothecoldbrickofthestorefrontwe’restoppedinfrontof,Iheaveonedeepbreathaftertheother.Idropmyforeheadtothewall,gentlybangingitacoupletimesforgoodmeasure.Maybeit’llknocksomesenseintome.
“I’msorry.Ican’tdothis.”
“What?You’retheonewho—”
“Thiswasamistake.”Itakeherhandinmine,leadingherbackdownthestreettowardthebar.“C’mon.I’lltakeyouback.”
Herhurriedstepsmatchmine,andwhenshepeersatmeoutofthecornerofhereye,IrememberwhyIlikedherenoughtogobackforseconds.Becausealthoughshebarelyknowsme,sheseesmeasahumanbeing,notonlyamealticket.“Youokay?”
“I’m…I…Idon’tknow.Ifuckedup.”
“Canyoufixit?”
“Idon’tknowhowtofixmypast.”
Hermouthquirks.“Playboywayscomingbacktobiteyouintheass?”
“Yup.”Myeyesfallshutwithmygroanasmynameisshoutedfrombehindus,andIheartherustleofpeoplejoggingtocatchuptous,seetheflashofcamerasastheycatchmyback.“Fuckingruthless,”Imutter.
“Carter!Overhere!”
Justaswereachthebar,myvisiongoesstarkwhite,blindedbyflashingcameras.
“Thefirstgirlyou’vebeenseenwiththisyear!NomoreOlivia?”
“Who’sthebeautifulgirl?”
Shieldingmyeyesfromthebrightlights,Ireachforthedoor.
ExceptMandywantstotalk.
“Sandy,”shetellsthemwithabrightsmile,wavingatthecamera.Huh.Iwasclose.“Withani-e.Sandiewithani-e.”Forfuck’ssake.
Itugonherhand.“Let’sgo.”Ineedtogohomeandscrewmyheadonstraightbeforeitexplodes.
“Sotherumorsweren’ttrue?”areportercalls.“AboutyouandOlivia?Shewasnothingmorethananother—”
“Enough!”Iroar,twistingbacktothecameras.Myskincrawlslikeants,knucklesflexingasmychestheaveswithafurysodeep,oneIdon’tknowhowtohandle.Itshakesmywholebody,beggingforrelease,andit’sabouttogetitiftheysayhernameonemoretime.“EnoughaboutOlivia!Leavehernameoutofyourdamnmouth!”
Sandieshovesmethroughthedoorway.“Andfortherecord,”sheshouts,“there’snothinggoingonhere.Hewasbeingagentlemanandwalkingmebacktothebar.Getarealjob.”
“Uh…”Iblinkdownather.“Thanks.”
“Noproblem.Nowifyou’llexcuseme,there’samartinicallingmyname.”Shestrutsaway,pausingtoglanceoverhershoulder.“Oh,andCarter?Youcan’tfixyourpast,butifyouwantadifferentfuture,allyouhavetodoischooseit.”
Fromacrossthebar,Ifeeltheweightofeveryone’sgazeonme.Idon’tmeetthem;Idon’tthinkIcanhandlethedisappointmentrightnow,thefrustrationwithme,notwhenI’malreadyboggeddownwithmyownself-loathing.Iheadstraightforthebackexit,thecoldairawelcomereprievethistimeasIleanagainstthewallandjustfuckingbreathe
Iheartheclickofthedoor,andwithoutopeningmyeyes,knowwhoitis.Theyletmestandherewithmythoughtsforamomentbeforespeaking.
WhenIfinallyopenmyeyes,thesympathyreflectedintheirstaresthrowsmeforaloop.
“She’sonadate.”Thewordsaremoreshatteredthanfeelsreasonable.
Cara’sfacetwists.“What?Liv?”
Inod.“Isawyourphone,”Iadmit,cringingashersympathyshiftstoanger.“Shesaidshewasgonnahavebreakfastwithhimtoo.”
“Oh,youfucking…”Shegroans,fishingherphonefromherpurse.“Carter,IsweartoGod.”Sheflashesmeherscreen,aphotoofOliviaandasmallgirlwholooksremarkablylikehersmilingatthecamera.“That’sherdate.Herseven-year-oldniece.They’rehavingbreakfastbecauseshe’sgotherfortheweekend.”
Awaveofreliefrushesthroughme,abitoftightnesseasingoffmychest.“She’snotseeingsomeone?”
“No,youdork.She’shunguponyouandtryingtoworkthroughherself-doubtandinsecuritieswiththepubliclifeyou’vebeenleading.”
Ihangmyhead.“She’sgoingtohatemenow.”
“Why?”Garrett’sbrowstugtogether.“Youdidn’tdoanythingwiththatgirl.Weallheardheryellit.Shouldyouhaveleftwithher?No,probablynot,becauseyouknowaswellaswedothatit’snotwhatyoureallywanted.”
Adamliftsashoulder.“Theimportantpartisthatyoustoppedyourselfbeforedoingsomethingyou’dregret.”
“She’llnevertrustmenow.NobodythinksI’mgoodenoughforher.”
Emmettholdsahandup,shakinghishead.“That’snotatalltrue.Weresomeofushesitanttoletyougetclosetoher?Absolutely,Icanadmitthat.Becausethisrighthereisoutofcharacterforyou,atleastwhenitcomestowomen.You’vebeenmybestbudfornearlytenyears,andnotoncehaveyoupursuedanythingserious.”
Irubthebackofmyneck.“You’vebarelytalkedtomelately.Kindathoughtyouweremadatme.”
“I’mnotmadatyou,dude,andthere’snotasinglepartofmethatthinksyou’renotgoodenoughforOlivia.Farfromit.Ijustfeelstuckinthemiddlealittle.Itsucks,becauseIloveyoutwoandyou’rebothhurting.Iunderstandwhyshe’safraid,andatthesametimeIcanseehowmuchyoulikeher.Iwantyouguystobehappy,andIthinkitwouldbecoolifyouwerehappytogether,butIdon’tthinkpushingOliviatobereadyistherightthingtodoeither.”Hisshoulderspopupanddown.“Itsucksallaround.”
“Thenhelpme,”Ibeg.“I’mtryinghere.Ihatefeelinglikethis.I’vedecidedwhatIwant.Isn’titsupposedtobeeasyfromhereonout?”
Caraholdsmygazeforamomentbeforeherheadrollsoverhershoulderswithanexasperatedlaugh.“Ilovethefuckoutofyou,Carter,butareyoureallythatdaftwhenitcomestorelationships?Thingsdon’tsuddenlyfallintoplacebecauseyou’vedecidedyouwanther.”
“Butthat’showitworkedforyouguys.”
“Nooffense,butifEmhadhalfthereputationyoudid,Iprobablywould’vemadehimworkalittleharder.Butjustbecausewefellinloverightfromthebeginningdoesn’tmeanithasn’tbeenhard.We’vehadtochooseeachothereverysingleday,putasideourdifferencesandworktogethertocompromise,tobuildalifetogether.Maybeitlookslikeeverythingsimplyfellintoplaceforus,butwe’veworkedhardatthis,andwithanygoodrelationship,youwill.You’retakingtwolivesandmergingthem.Thatrequiresalotofworkandastrongcommitment.Isthatwhatyouwant?”
“Yes.”It’sstrangewhatasimplethree-letterwordcando,onespokenwithsomuchcertainty,theweightthatliftswiththeepiphanythatcomeswithit.Yes,IwanttochooseOlivia,overandoveragain.Iwanttoworkforit,forus.Iwanttobebetter,notonlyforher,butformyselftoo.
Caraloopsanarmthroughmine,tuggingmebackthroughthebar.“Thenlet’sgetyouyourgirlback,Mr.Beckett.”CHAPTER18DON’TGOBACONMYHEARTOLIVIA
Why?Why?Justshyofeighteenyearsoldandthey’vegotabetterlovelifethanme.
It’stwelfthgradegymclass,forfuck’ssake.Dotheyneedtobekissing?
“Aw,c’mon,”Igroan,draggingapalmdownmyfaceasitturnsintoanaggressivegameoftonsilhockey.“Okay,ladies,that’senough.”
IpropmyfistsonmyhipsasLucyandJeanignoreme.Icantellthey’veheardme—Icanseethecornersoftheslysmilesthey’rewearing—butmykidsliketopushme.It’smyownfault;I’mwaytoofriendlyandlenientwithmystudents,anditsometimesbackfiresonme.Ican’tkeepcountofhowoftenI’mbreakingapartpublicdisplaysofaffection,especiallyinmyco-edclass.
“Nope.Nope,nope,nope,nope.”Iclapmyhandsfivehundredtimesuntiltheystop.“You’reinclass!You’reseventeen!Here’sanidea:waituntilclassends.”
Theybreakawaywithalaugh,andLucyswipesthebackofherwristacrosshermouth.“Sorry,MissParker.You’retheonlycoolteacheratthisschool.”
Ipointather.“Don’ttrytobuttermeupwiththatcoolteacherbullshit.”Shovingasetofpylonsintoherhands,Itellher,“Settheseupalongtheredline,please.”
“Aw,man.”Jeantossesherheadbackwithagroan.“Notshuttlesprints.”
“Yes,shuttlesprints.Thisisafitnessclass,MissRoss.Youjoineditofyourvolition.”
Shecrossesherarmsandfrowns,toeingatthegymfloorwithhersneakers.“Lucymademe.”
“Oh,thethingswedoforlove.”
Lucyjogsbackoveraftersettingoutthepylons,tossingherstraight,jet-blackhairoverhershoulder.“Youokay,MissParker?Youseemalittle,Idonno…”Shewavesahandaroundmyface.“Sad,lately.”
“Me?Sad?No,I’mtotallyfine.Super-duperfine.”Super-duperfine,ladiesandgentlemen.
Paulswaggersover,droppinghiselbowtoLucy’sshoulder.“Yeah,whatgives?You’vebarelylaughedatanyofmyjokes.”
“Maybeyouneedtoworkonyourmaterial.”
Hescoffs.“I’mfunnyasfu—”Hismouthslamsshut,eyeswideandsetonmeasIwatchhimwithanarchedbrow.“Frick.Funnyasfrick.”
“Right,well—”Mywordsdrowninthesoundofthegymdoorsburstingopen,bouncingoffthewall,andIclapahandovermyeyesandsighasagorgeous,leggyblondesweepsintothespace,alleyesonherasshetearsoffheroversizedsunglasses.“Forshit’ssake.Cara!Youcan’tjustbargeinhere!”Isweepmyarmsout.“I’minthemiddleofaclass!”
Sheflicksherwrist.“Classdismissed.”
“What?No!No,classisn’tdismissed.”Itwirlaround,pointingatmystudents,alltwenty-onesetsofeyesbouncingbetweenmeandCara.“Stay!”
Cara’sbodyslumps,headlollingbackward.“C’mon,MissParker.It’sthelastclassoftheday.Letthesekidshavesomefun.Becool.”
“I’mcool!I’mfun!Wehavelotsoffunhere!”Ilookaroundforvalidation,myownheadbobbing.WhenIdon’tgetit,Itossahandintheair.“Fine.Go.Butanyonewho’slatetomorrowisdoingburpees.”
Withmyarmspinnedacrossmychestandonefoottapping,Iwatchaseverysingleoneofmystudentshigh-fivesmybestfriend.IwishIcouldsaythisisthefirsttimethishashappened,butit’snot,anditwon’tbethelast.Caraworksonnobody’sschedulebutherown,andmyprincipalhasacrushonher,soshestrollsthroughthosegymdoorswaytoooften.
CaraflashesmewhatI’msureshethinksisacharminggrinbeforesweepingbotharmsouttowardmyoffice.“Stepintomyoffice,MissParker.”
“It’smyoffice,”Ihuff,thendashforwardinanunsuccessfulattempttobeatherthere.
Shesinkstomychair,twistingbackandforth,fingerssteepledinfrontofherface.“TowhatdoIowethepleasure?”
“Youaresoincrediblyirritating,youknowthat?”
Shegrins.“Ireallydo,butIfiguredwewereoverdueforaworkvisit.Plus,thosekidsloveme.”
“Becausetheygetafreeperiodeverytimeyoushowup.”
“I’dmakeagreatteacher.”Hereyessparkle,andthewaytheylingeronmeunnervesme.Cara’salwayshadawayofseeingrightthroughme.“What’syourplanforthisweekend?”
“Thisweekend?”
Shenods.“Thisweekend.Youcan’tavoidhim,youknow.He’sgoingtobethere.”
Iflopdowntothechairacrossfrommydesk,legsoverthearmrest.“Whothehellmanagestothrowtogethersuchanextravagantengagementpartyonlytwoweeksaftertheengagement?”Idon’ttouchonthefactthattomorrownightwassupposedtobemineandCarter’smoviedate.
Carasmilesathernailsasshechecksthem.“Ihavemyconnections.”
Herconnectionsarethatsheownsherowneventplanningbusiness,isabsolutelyunstoppablewhenshe’sinparty-planningmode,andwhensheneedssomethingshedoesn’thave—like,say,avenuethatcanserviceonehundredpeopleonsuchshortnotice—sheknowshowtobepersuasive.AndIdon’tmeanflirty;Imeanutterlyterrifying.
“Infact,he’sthebestman,soyou’regonnabewalkingdowntheaisletogetheratthewedding.”
ThenoisesImakearenotacoherentresponse.They’remostlyastringofgrumbledcursewordsthatmakeCaragrin.
“C’mon.What’sgoingthroughyourmind?You’rekeepingsomuchbottledup.Ineedyoutotalktome.”
Myteethdescendonmylowerlip,tuggingonit.“Iknowhedidn’tdoanythingwiththatSandiegirl,andIknowhe’sallowedtobewithwhoeverhewants;I’mtheonethatwalkedaway.Butit’sstillscary,youknow?Hemeanttohookupwithher.Itwashisfirstknee-jerkreaction.”Myvoicelowers.“Ican’thelpbutwonderifhe’llalwaystrytohurtmewhenhe’sangrywithme,butatthesametime,IknowIhurthimfirst.”
“Soundslikeyou’vebothmadesomedecisionsrecentlybasedoutoffear.”
“Itfeelslikethisviciouscircle.Likeacarouselthatwon’tstop.Iwanttoclimboff,butIdon’tknowhowtogetittoslowdown.”
“Yes,youdo.Youneedtodecidetoleaveitallwhereitisormoveforward.”Shewalkstothewhiteboardthathangsonthewall,pickingupamarker.Ifollowher.“Sohere’swhatwe’regonnado.”ShescrawlsCarterBeckettacrossthetopoftheboard,underlinesitthreetimes,thendrawsastickfigurewithagiantpenis.I’mgoingtoneedtoerasethisimmediately.Shefinisheswithaheartontheleftandafrownyfaceontheright.
“Wearenotmakingaprosandconslist.”
“Thinkofitasalistoflikesanddislikes.”ShetapstheX.“Now,thingsyoudon’t—”
“He’saplayboy.”
“Previous…fear…of…commitment,”shescribes,whichisnotatallwhatIsaid.
“He’sarrogant,cocky,andflashy.”ExceptthesecondthetipofCara’smarkertouchestheboard,Istopher.“Wait.IthinkIkindalikethat.He’s…proud.Charismatic.Confident.Ithinkthey’regoodqualities.IwishIwasassureofmyselfasheis.”Thenwelikelywouldn’tbeinthismess.
“Hm.Interesting.”
Iflickherelbowwhileshescrawlsbeneaththeheart.“WipethatsmileoffyourfaceorI’llwipeitoffforyou.”
“You’reobviouslyveryphysicallyattractedtohim.”
Inod,humming.“Iwannatapthatmanlikeamapletree.”
“Andhe’sfunny,”Carasuggests.
MyheadbobsasIrunthetipofmyfingernailacrossmylowerlip.“Hemakesmelaughalot,andhe’skindofabiggoofball.Hemakesmefeelgoodaboutmyself.He’spainfullyhonest,andIlikethewayhesmellsandthewayheplayswithmyhair.Andwhenhelooksatme…whenhelooksatme,it’slikeit’sonlymeandhim.Ilikethewayhelooksatme.AndIlikethathishouseishisescape,thathelikestostareatthestarsandthemountainsandforgetthenoise,andhehastheprettiestsmileandthebestdimples,andhewassosweetwiththekidsatthefundraiserandsuchagoodsportattakingthepiestotheface,andhe’sagoodfriend,and—”IsuckinoxygenI’mindesperateneedof,noticingthesoftsmileonCara’sface.
“Bethe’sagoodsnuggler.He’sallbigandburly,andhe’snotallthatgreatwithpersonalspace.”
AtinglywarmthstartsinmybellyandspreadsthroughoutmybodyasIrememberthewayCarterhauledmeagainsthimaftereachround,howhisarmscamearoundme,hisfaceinthecrookofmyneckashislipstouchedmyskinoverandoveragain,hishandonmythroatashekeptmerightwherehewantedme.Therewasn’tasinglepartofmethatwantedtobeanywhereotherthanrightthere.
Carapicksupthehockeyskatecharmhangingfrommylanyard,examiningitbeforegesturingattheboard.It’sfullbelowtheheart,andoddlyemptybelowthefrownyface.“Lookslikeyouhaveyouranswer.”
Alumpformsinthebackofmythroat,ashiverofapprehensiondancingdownmyspineasIwringmyhands.“IknowIdo.Butthatdoesn’tmakeitlessscary.Hispastwashispresentonlyamonthago.Myfearsarelogicalandwarranted,aren’tthey?”
Cara’scompassionategazestaysonmeasabeatofsilencestretchesbetweenus.“Iunderstand,Liv.Igetwhereyou’recomingfrom,becauseit’sthesamereasonIkepthimfrommeetingyouforsolong.It’simpossibletoignorethecautionsigns,especiallywhenthey’reconstantlybeingthrustinyourfaceeverywhereyouturn.Carter’salwaysownedhisdecisionsandhe’snevershiedawayfromthembeingsplashedaboutsopublicly.Andnowyou’rethinkingthatthere’snowaythisisreal.Thatyou’reanothergirlthatdoesn’tmeananything.Thathe’sgoingtohaveyouandtossyouasidewhenhe’sdone.Buthe’salreadyhadyou,andhestillwantsyou.Youlikehim,andhelikesyou.There’snoproblemhere,otherthanthatyou’relettingfearoftheunknowndictateyourlife.
“Soareyourfearswarranted?Absolutely.Butit’suptoyoutoriseabovethem,tostepoutsideyourcomfortzoneandputyourselfoutthere,ifyouwanttoexplorethisthingwithCarter.Whatdoyouthink?”
Isinkdowntothechair,twirlingmyponytailaroundmyfingersasIstareatmyrunners.“Ican’tstopthinkingabouthim.Everythingfeelsnaturalwithhim,andhepushesmetoopenup.Forsomeonesoassertive,he’salwaysbeenincrediblypatientwithme.”Mygazelifts,floatingtoCara.“IthinkI’dreallylikeforbothofustogivethisachance,ifhestillwantsthat.”
Carasnortsandpullsoutherphone.Sheflashesmeherscreen,andIseeWorld’sMostAnnoyingManatthetopofthemessagethread,accompaniedbyatinyprofilephotoofCarter.Myeyesdroptothemessagesscatteredonthescreen.
isollieok?idon’twanther2beupsetaboutthatgirl.
doesshehateme?
douthinkshewantstotalkmaybe1daysoon?
maybeicouldsendherflowers????roses?sunflowers?seemslikeabrightflowerkindagirl.
ithinkimissher,care.thissux.
“Safetosayhestillwantstogiveitashot,Liv.”Sheleansagainstmydesk,nudgingthetoeofmyshoewithhers.“I’mproudofyou.Goingafterwhatyouwantsoundseasytosomepeople,buttherealityisthatsometimesit’sjustfuckingscary.Ithinkleavingwhenyoudidgaveyouthechancetostepbackandgainsomeclarityontheintensityofyourfeelingsandwhatyouwanted.”
Theschoolbellrings,signalingtheendofanotherday,andCaraslingsherpurseoverhershoulderandtossesmybagandcoatatmebeforeIcangetaresponseout.
“DidyougetyourdresssortedforSaturday?”
“No.”Igroanasweslipoutthegymdoors.“I’vebeentothemalltwicethisweekandIcan’tfindanything.”
“Allright,offtothemallwego.Youneedmyexpertise.”
“Idon’thavetimeforaCara-sizedtriptothemall.I’vegottabehomebyfive.Jeremy’sdroppingAlannahoff.”
“Oh,sweetLivvie.We’llbeinandoutinahalfhour.Ipromiseyou.”
***
We’reinandoutinseventeenminutes.
Caratowedmeintoastore,waltzeduptoarack,pickedadressinnineseconds,shovedmeintothechangeroom,andthenmadeeverysingleemployeecomelookathow“fucktacular”Ilooked.Honestly,Icouldn’tdisagree,hencetheseventeen-minutetrip.
Nowshe’sinvitedherselfoverfordinner,citingwantingtogetmynieceriledupbeforebed.Alannah’ssleepingoverbecausetomorrowisTakeYourKidToWorkDay,andshebeggedmetocometoschoolwithme,eventhoughshe’snot,infact,myoffspring.Shesaidshewantedtobossaroundthebigkids.
“I’llbequick,”Carapromisesasshepullsintoherdriveway.“Justneedtograbsomething.Whydon’tyoucomeinandsayhitoEm?”
“Ifyou’regoingtobequ—”
Sheslamsthedoor,gesturingthroughthewindshieldformetofollowher,andwithasigh,Ifollowmybossybestfriendthroughherfrontdoor.
Ishould’veknownitwasatrap.
Becausewhensheshovesmedownthehallwayandtowardthekitchen,insteadofonlyEmmett,IgettheimpossiblylargeframeofMr.Beckett,frozenwhilehestaresatmefromhalfwayinsidetheopenedfridge,jawdangling.
“Hey!Hi!Olivia!”He’syelling;Idon’tknowifherealizes.“G-good,”hesputters.“Youlookgood!”Stillyelling.Heslamsthefridgedooranddropshiselbowtothecountertop,nearlymissinghischinwhenhetriestopropitupinhispalm.
Ilookdownatmyoutfit.I’mstillinmyrunningshoes,apairofLululemonleggingsthatCaragotmeforChristmas—becausewhothehellcanaffordtospendahundred-plusdollarsonapairofworkoutpants—andahoodiewithmyniece’shockeyteam’snamescrawledacrossit.Myhair’sinamessy,lowponytail,tuckedbeneathatoque,andIlooklikeIspentthedayteachingfitness,whichisexactlywhatIdid.CarterlookslikehespentthedayloungingonthecouchandstillbelongsonthecoverofGQ.Hischarcoalgraysweatpantshanglowonhiships,highlightingwhatIknowtobeanentirelytoo-impressivepackage,andhisdry-fitVipersshirtclingstoeverymuscleofhisflawlesslysculptedtorso.
Ibarelyresisttheurgetofanmyhotface.
“Oops!”Carasashaysintotheroom.“Carter!Totallyforgotyouwerehere!”Hersneakysmileissuspect.
“Uh-huh,”Emmettmuses.“Forgot.”Hisairquotesareperfectlyplaced.“We’regonnaorderpizza.Youladieswantsome?”
“Can’tstay,babe,”Caratellshim,whichisgood,becauseIdon’tthinkIcanspeak.“SendsometoLiv’s.We’reeatingthere.”
CarterandIarehavinganepicstareoff.Ican’tlookaway,nordoIreallywantto.
UntilCaratakesmyhandandstartstowingmeacrosstheroom.
Mymouthquirks,andIgiveCarteratinywave.“Bye,”Iwhisper.
Hisentirefaceshatterswithacheek-splittinggrin.
“Wait!”Bothhandscomeupashisbodydoesthisweirdrock-swivelthing,likehehasnoideawhathe’slookingfor.Thenhelaunchesintothelivingroomandreturnsamomentlater,slidingacrossthefloorinhissocks,twocookiesinhishand.Withashakygrip,heholdsthemuptome.“Oreos.”
MyGod,he’sfreakingadorable.
Itrytoignorethezingthatpassesfromthetipofhisfingerstominewhenwetouch,butit’simpossible.Thismanisalivewireandmyentirebodysizzleswithneedwhenhe’saround.
Hedashesaheadofusoutsideinhissocks,whicharenowsuretobesoakedfromthesnow,andpriesopenthepassengerdoorforme.Aswebackoutofthedriveway,hewatchesusfromthefrontporch,thatridiculous,overthetoplopsidedsmileneverwaning.
“Man’sinlove,”Caramutters,andwhenwewalkupmyfrontstepstwentyminuteslater,I’mstillfocusingonthosewords,wonderingiftheymightbeourfuturesomeday.
We’renotinmyhousefortwominuteswhenthefrontdoorswingsopen,aganglybrunettesweepinginside,flinginghersleepoverbagintothewallwhenshesweepsherarmsoutwithanextravagantflourish.
“I’mhere,baby!”Alannahtwirls,stoppingwithwigglingfingersintheair,sparklinggrinsetonme.
“Jazzhands?Really?”
Hergigglefillsmysmallhouse,andsheboundsovertome,leapingintomyarmsandtacklingmeintothewall.It’sshort-lived,thankGod,becausewhenshespotsCara,it’sgameover.
Mybrotherfinallymakesitthroughthedoor,lookingfromthemtome.“AlannahandCara?Youfuckingnuts?”Herollshiseyesashisdaughtercomesboundingovertohim,handoutforthedollarshegetsfromhimswearing.“Yousureyoudon’twannastayatourhouse?”Jeremyasks.“Beawholelotquieter.”
“Quieterandboring.”Alannahrollshereyes.“MummyandDaddysaidthey’regonnatakeanaptonightafterJemmygoestobedsinceI’mnotgonnabehome,since,yaknow,Istayupwaylaterthanhim.”JemmyisherlittlebrotherJeremy.Yes,mybrothernamedhissonafterhimself.IcallmynephewJem,andmostofthetime,mybrotherAsshole.
Caralaughs.“Anap,ehJer?”SheaimsapointedlookatAlannah.“Yousureyou’renottryingtomakeathird?”
“Fuckno.”Anothersigh,anotherdollarforhisdaughter.“Iforgothowhardbabieswere.I’mdone.”
“Youshouldgetsnipped.”
Heclapsahandoverhiscrotch.“Don’tthreatenmyboys.”
AyoungmanIdon’tknowappearsatmydoorwithoneofthosebrightredinsulatedbags.Hepullsouttwopizzaboxes.“Uh,Ollie…OllieWallie?”
“OhmyGod.”IburymyfacebehindmyhandbeforeItakethepizzas.“Thankyousomuch.HowmuchdoIoweyou?”
Heshakeshisheadandstartsbackdownthesteps,wavingoverhisshoulder.“Prepaidoverthephone!”
“Oooh,pizza.”Jeremyreachesforthelidofthetopbox,butCaraslapshishandaway,takingthepizzaandheadingintothekitchen,Alannahhotonherheels.Hefrowns,takinganotherstepin,andashuddershakeshisshoulders.“It’sfreezinginhere,Ol.Furnacebrokenagain?”
“Guessso,”Imurmur,movingtothethermostat.Fifty-five.Ipressatthebuttons,waitingforthatsoundthatletsmeknowthefurnaceiswhirringtolife,butitnevercomes,soIsmashonthemsomemore,thensmackmyforeheadoffthelittleboxtwice,incasethat’lldoanything.Whenalloftheabovefails,myearsburnbeneaththetoqueIstillwearasIavoidmybrother’sgaze.Thisthingisbroken80percentofthetime,he’sfixeditformeatleastthreetimes,andI’vehaditprofessionallyfixedfourtimes.It’salwaystemporary.“I’msorry.”
“Whythehellareyouapologizing?”
Irubmyarmandlookdownatmyfeet.“Becauseit’sfreezinginhereandAlannah’sstayingover.ItwasworkingwhenIleftforworkthismorning,Ipromise.”It’shardnottofeellikeafailurearoundmybrothersometimes,andrightnowisoneofthosetimes.
Jeremyrollshiseyesandtugsonmyhoodie.“Loadherupinyourrattysweatsbeforeyougotobed.Shewon’tbreak.”
“I’mtoughasnails,AuntieOllie.”Alannahpeeksoutfromthekitchen,flexingherbicepsandgrowlinglikeabear,asliceofcheesepizzabetweenherteeth.
IfollowJeremydowntothebasement,nibblingmythumbnailasheplaysaroundwiththefurnace.Whenhesighs,Iknowtheverdictisn’tgood.
“Hatetotellyouthis,Ol,butthisthingistoast.Youneedtoreplaceit.”
ThelookonmyfacetellshimexactlywhatI’mthinking:fan-fucking-tastic.AfurnaceisnotonthelistofthingsIcanaffordrightnow.
“KrisandIcanhelpyouout.”
Iwavemyhandsaroundinfrontofmyface.He’sbailedmeoutbefore,whichwashardenoughformetoaccept.AnewfurnaceiswhereIdrawtheline.“Ihavesomeemergencymoneysavedup.”
Hisbrowsquirkashegesturesformetoheadupthestairs,andIthinkhe’sgoingtodropit,untilweemergefromthebasement,andhepausesatmysidetowhisperinmyear.“You’reaterriblefuckingliar.”
Whenheleavesaminutelater,IfindCaraandAlannahspreadoutonthelivingroomfloor,pizzacoveringthecoffeetableastheyflipthroughNetflix.
“There’saspecialpizzaforyou,”Caratellsmewithoutlookingup.
Ipadintothekitchenandliftthelidonthebox,huffingalaughatthetoppings.It’sonlyone,actually.Bacon.Realbacon.Anunholyamountofbacon.Like,anentirepound.Curled,crispyedges,tinybubblesofgrease,asavory,smokyaromathatoverloadsmysensesinthebestway.
Myphonevibratesinthepocketofmyhoodie,andIpressPlayonthevideofromEmmett.
It’sofCarter,loadingupaplatewithpizzawhilehesings.
“Don’tgobaconmyheart!Mmm,mmm!Iwon’tgobaconyourheart!So,oooh,oooh!Don’tgobaconmyheart!”
Carterheaveswhatsoundslikeahappysigh,floppingdownonthecouch.“YouthinkOllielikestheextra-extrabaconpizzaIorderedher?Ibetshefoundthemostbacon-yslice.”Hehumsalaugh,tippinghisheadbackashedropshalfasliceofpizzaintohismouth.“Ican’twaittoseeheratthepartySaturday.MaybeI’lllinemypocketswithbacon.”
ThevideogoesblackattheexactmomentIrealizehowinexplicablydoomedIamwhenitcomestothisman.
***
It’snearlymidnightwhenIdisengagefromAlannah’skoala-likegrip,quietlyclimbingoutofbedandtuckingtheblanketsuparoundhershoulders.Turningonthelampinthelivingroom,Isnuggleupbeneathacozyblanketonthecouchanddialthenumberthat’llconnectmetothevoiceIneedtohearmorethananythingrightnow.
“Theonlyacceptablereasonforyoucallingsolateistotellmethatyou’vefinallycometoyoursensesandyou’removinghome.”
Giggling,Ilayonmyside,stuffingthephonebetweenmyearandthecushion.“Sorrytodisappointyouyetagain,Mom.”
Shelaughs,lightandsoft,asoundI’vemissed.“What’sup,sweetie?”
“Ijustmissyou.”
“Imissyoualways,honey.What’sgoingon?”
“Imet…Imetsomeone.”
“Oh,honey.Youhaveaboyfriend!James!James,Olliehasaboyfriend!”
“Mom,no!Idon’thavea—ugh.”WhydidIcall?
“Boyfriend?Who?She’stooyoungforaboyfriend.No.Not’tilshe’sthirty.I’vegotfivemoreyears!Getmyshotgun!”Daddoesn’thaveashotgun,whichishowIknowhe’sjoking.Mostly.Ithink.Ihope.
“Carter’snotmyboyfriend,”Imumbleintothecushion.
“Carter?Soundscute.Whatdoeshelooklike?Whatdoeshedo?Oooh,letmeguess!He’sateacheratyourschool.No—principal!Areyoudatingtheprincipal?Soscandalous.I’mintoit.”
“Youliterallycouldnotbecolder.”I’malsonotgoingtotellmymomwhatCarterdoes.Ididn’tevenmeantosayhisname.I’vealreadysaidtoomuch,soIjustrepeat,“He’snotmyboyfriend.”
“Butyoulikehim.”
“Ilikehim.”
“Anddoeshelikeyou?”
Myheartpattersalittleharder.“Yes.”
“So…what’stheproblem?”
“Hehasareputation…withtheladies.”ThisisaboutasawkwardasIexpectedittobe.
“Oh.Andyou’rescared.”She’snotasking;she’stelling.Mymomhasalwaysbeenoneofmybestfriends,hencebeingsoutterlyupsetwithmewhenIpackedupandmovedacrossthecountry.Sheknowsmelikethebackofherhand,andIcan’thideathingfromher.
“Terrified.”
“Whatscaresyouthemost?”
“ThatI’mgoingtofallinlovewithhim.”
“Oh,honey.”Momlaughs.It’soneofthosehumoringlaughs,thekindwhereyouexpecthertosayyousweet,sweetfoolwhenshewrapsitup.“Ihatetotellyouthis,sweetheart,butifyou’rescaredoffallinginlovewithhim,well…you’realreadyhalfwaythere.”
Ifallasleepwithherwordsplayingonrepeat,andwhenAlannahandIareonthewayoutthedoorthenextmorning,myphonesoundsinmycoatpocket.IpullitoutasIlockthedoor,tappingthroughtoEmmett’stextmessageasIheaddownthesteps.
Emmett:Theater4,rowL,seats10&11.Tonightat7:30.
Emmett:He’sstillgoing.
TheairaroundmestillsasIrereadthedetails,theseatsCartermeticulouslypickedforourmoviedatewhilewecurledupbythefireonhisbalcony—lastrow,deadcenter.
He’sstillgoing.
Astrangebutwelcomecalmunfurlsinmybelly,climbingintomychest,allowingmyshoulderstounstack,myspinetostraighten.Ifeellightersomehow,likeaweighthasbeenlifted.Theweightofmyfear,maybe,ormyindecisiveness.Bothofthosethingshavethepowertodragyoudownlikeanchors,andI’dbelyingifIsaidIhadn’tbeenlettingthempullmeundersincethefirsttimethatmanmademyheartstutter.
Alannahtugsonmyhand.“Whyareyousmilingsobig,AuntieOllie?”
IfixtheViperstoqueonmyniece’shead,coveringherears.“I’mjusthappy,honey.”
Shegrinsupatme.“Happylooksgoodonyou.”
Feelsdamngoodtoo.CHAPTER19GOODSURPRISESCARTER
Hopeisoneofthosefunnythings,kindofliketime.
Timeeitherracesordrags;Ifindthere’snoinbetween.Whenthingsaren’tgoingthewayyouwantthemto,timestandsstill.Youfeelstuck,rootedinplace,andyourfeetwon’tlifttotakethestepsyouneedtomoveinthedirectionyouwanttogo.Thesepasttwelvedays,I’vewantedoneoftwothings:toeithergetthegirlorgetoverthegirl.Theformerwaspreferable,butwitheachdaythatdraggedon,Iwould’vetakeneitherjusttogetridoftheheavycloudhangingovermyhead.
Andthenshefuckingsmiledatme,andit’slikesomebodyhitthebuttononastopwatchandtimerestarted,flewforward.NowI’mracingintotheweekend,eagertoseeher.
Hopeworksthesameway.Everythingfeelsslowanddarkwithouthope,alittlelikeanightthatneverreallyendswhileyousearchforthedaylight,waitingforittocome.
Andthensuddenlyyouseeher,thebrightbeamthatbloomsonherface,thewayherchocolateeyesgleamastheylockwithyoursfromacrosstheroom,andeverythingchanges.Thedoorswingsopen,showingyouthesunshineoutside,thehope,andyousteprightintoit,feelingthewarmththattouchesyourskinliketheheatofherstare.
I’mstillnotasuperfanofthisbrutal,bitingcold,though.
“Whythefuckcouldn’twestayinyourapartment?”IwhinetoHank.“It’stoocoldtobeoutside.”
“Dublinneedsexercise.”Hisfingerstightenovermyforearmasweambledownthestreet.“Andyou,quitefrankly,needtoquitallthisbitchin’you’vebeendoing.ThisiswhyIalwayssaythatJennieisthesuperiorBeckettsibling.”
“SuperiorBeckettsibling,myass,”Imutter,guidingHankdowntoabenchinStanleyPark.
I’veknownHankforoversevenyearsnow.Wecameacrosseachotherpurelybychance,orsoitseemed,atatimewhenIneededhimmost.Hestoppedmefrommakingamistakethatcould’vefuckedmylifebeyondrepairandendedmycareerbeforeithadreallygottenstarted,andhe’sbeenaconstanteversince,oneofmybestfriendsdespitethenearlysixty-yearagegap.He’smyfamily,andthere’sneverbeenapartofmethathasn’tappreciatedhowluckyIamtohavehiminmylife.
“Youhaven’tbeenyourselflately,”Hankspeaksquietly,raisinghiscoffeetohislips.
IstareoutattheEnglishBay.Thebitterwinterwe’vebeengracedwithsofarhasturnedthewaterintosleekblueice,andunderthebrightsun,allitdoesisglitter.Itakeasipofmycoffee,thehotliquidheatingmeasitgoesdown.“Notreally.”
“Gotthatgirlonyourbrain.Theprettybrunette.”
Iglanceathim,asmileonmylips.There’snopointinaskinghimhowhefoundoutaboutOlivia;hekeepsmoretabsonmethanthepaparazzi.“Ido.”
“Yousleepwithher?”
Ihuffachuckle.“Howthehelldoyouknowthat?”
Hissmileisproud,knowing.“You’reamanwhore,Mr.Beckett.Yousleepwitheveryone.”
“Hey.”Inudgehisshoulderwithmine.“Playnice,oldman.”
Hankchuckles,scrubbingashakyhandoverhisjaw.“Icantellyoulikeher.”
“Ido.”Toomuch,probably.Toosoon.Idon’tknow.Isthishowthisgoes?
HegivesDublin’searsaruffle.“So,what’stheproblem?”
“TheproblemisI’mamanwhorewhosleepswitheveryone.”
Hank’ssilencegiveswaytoatoo-broadgrin.“Areyousureit’snotyouruglymug?”
Ilaugh,givingmyheadashake.“I’mnicetolookatandyouknowit.”
Theweekafterwemet,Hankaskedifhecouldtouchmyface.Hesaiditwassomethinghelikedtodotoputafacetothevoice.Healsosaidhewantedtoseewhatallthefusswasabout.Istillremembertheimpressedsoundhemadebeforehetoldmemyfeatureswereperfectlysymmetrical.WhenIlaughed,hisfingersslidacrossmydimplesandhesaid,Ah.Dimples.That’swhyyou’resopopularwiththeladies.Butthebestpart?Assoonashewasdone,hetoldmetheface-touchingbitwasabunchofbullshitthatHollywoodthrewintomoviestoromanticizethevisuallyimpaired,andI’dfallenforitwithoutasecondthought.NotonlywasIprettybutgullibletoo.
“Theladyonthesportschannelsaysyou’rethehottestthingsinceslicedbread.IthinkshemustbeblinderthanIam.”
Mychinhitsmychestwithmydeepchuckle,andwhenIsigh,Iskimmyteethacrossmylowerlip.“DoyouthinkherleavingwasasignthatI’mbetteroffalone?”Thewordstasteforeignandsour,thoughupuntilamonthagoIhadnointentionofeverwantingmore.
Hanksnorts.“Idon’tbelievethatyou’reactuallysuchacynicwhenitcomestolove.You’vegotabigheart.Youdon’treallywanttobealonetherestofyourlife,doyou?”
“Forawhilethere,IkindathoughtIdid,”Iadmit.
“That’snowaytoliveyourlife.You’reagoodkid,Carter.Youhavealottooffersomeone,andwhileit’simportanttobeabletobehappyonyourown,havinganotherpersontoamplifythathappiness,toshareitwithalongwithalltheotherspecialmoments,that’swhatlife’sallabout.That’swhereitreallystartstogetfun.”
“Imighthurther.”AsangryasI’vebeenwithherwalkingaway,asconfusedasI’vefelt,Iunderstandtoo.Ihaven’tgivenhermuchofareasontotrustme.I’vepursuedherrelentlesslyandtakenwhateverbitsofhershewaswillingtogiveupeachtime,andthenwhenIdecidedIwantedherformorethanonenight,Iexpectedhertotakemeatfacevalue.Inevergaveherthecertaintyshewanted,thesecuritysheneeded.Ijustaskedhertoclosehereyesandjump.
“Hurtingsomeoneandgettinghurtarerisksyoutakeinlove.”
Myheadrollsovermyshoulderswithagroan.“Stopsayingthatword.”
Hanksmiles,clappingahanddownonmyknee.“Ilovesayinglove.It’smyfavoriteword.”Heclapsmyknee.“Sotellmewhytodayisdifferent.”
“Different?Whatdoyoumean?”
“Well,wecoveredwhyyouhaven’tbeenyourselflately,buttoday?Todayyou’realittlebitmoreyourself.”
MychestexpandsasIthinkaboutyesterday,howIcouldn’ttakemyeyesoffher,theconfirmationthatmyfeelingswereveryrealstackedbehindthewaymyentirebodybuzzedatherproximity,thewayIlongedtojustfucking…touchher.Brushmyknucklesalonghercheekbone,lacemyfingersthroughhers.Anything
“Isawherlastnight.Onlyfortwominutes,butshesmiledatme.Threetimesshesmiledatme.Andsheletmeopenthecardoorforher,andshewavedgood-bye,andI…Ithinkthat’sgood,right?Ithinkitmeansshemightgivemeachance.Doyouthinkshe’sgonnagivemeachance?”
Hankchucklessoftly.“Youdon’tgiveyourselfenoughcredit.It’snotonlythegirlthatneedstogiveyouachance;it’syourself.So,tellme…yougonnawinherback?”
Igrinathim,squeezinghishand.“DoIeverlose?”
“Nottypically,no,asmuchasIhatetoadmitit.I’venevermetamorepompousman.”
“Youloveme.”I’mstillgrinninglikeajackassandIknowhecanhearit.
Hanksighs.“Ido.AndI’llloveyoumoreifyouaddanotherbeautifulladytomylife.”
“I’mtrying.Ipromise.”
“Well,tryharder.TheCarterBeckettIknowfightsforwhathewantsanddoesn’ttakenoforananswer.”Hetwistsmyway,thosehazybluesdriftingoverme.“Unlessyou’vegonesoft.Haveyougonesoft,Carter?”
“Hellno.”
“Thengetyourassingearandgetyourwoman.”
“Aye-aye,Captain.”
“I’mblindinbotheyes.Idon’twearapatch.”
“What?Iwasn’t—forgetit.”Iwavehimoff.He’sridiculous,makingusaperfectpair.“You’reunreal.”
“Youloveme,”heparrotsmywordsbacktome.
“Ido.”
“Thenyou’llgetmeThaifoodfordinnertonightandmakethatgirlyourwoman.”
IsaluteDublin,whocockshisadorablegoldenheadatme,tonguelollingoutthesideofhismouth.“Thaifoodandasaucy,mistrustingwoman,comingrightup.”
***
It’sjustbeforesevenasIstandoutonthecold,darkstreet,lookingupatthetheater.It’saFridaynight,whichmeanstheplaceispacked,andI’mkickingmyselfforbeinghere.GoingtothemoviesinpublicseemedworthitwhenOliviawasgoingtobesittingbesideme,butnowI’malone,andithitsmeforthefirsttimethataloneisn’tatallwhatIwanttobe.
AndyethereIamanyway,andIdon’tknowwhy.MaybeIwasholdingontohopethatthingswouldgetsortedintimeforourfirstdate,thatshewouldstillshowup.ThatIwouldgettositnexttoherandwhisperirritatingthingsinherearandmakeherlaugh,andwhenitwasgoodanddark,I’dslipmyhandaroundhers,laceourfingerstogetherandfeelthewayshe’dmeltintome.
Idon’tknow.
Instead,Ipullmytoqueovermyheadandwalkthroughthefrontdoors,hopingnobodynoticesme.
“Justtheone?”thekidbehindthecounterasksashescanstheticketonmyphone.“You’vegottwoticketsthere.”
Islipmyfingersupthesideofmytoque,scratchingmyhead.“Yeah,um—”
“Two,pleaseandthankyou.”
Itwirlatthesoftvoice,andmyhearttriestoescapeoutmythroatwhenmygazelandsonthetinybrunettewho’sbeenoccupyingeveryfreebitofspaceinmyhead.Shepeersupatmefrombeneathherthicklashes,herstareunsteady,unsure,buthopeful.
Shelicksherlipsandtakesatentativestepforward,handswringingatherstomach,andwhensheopenshermouthtosaysomething,Ibeathertoit.
“Youcame.”
AbeamlikesunshineexplodesacrossOlivia’sface,andIswearshe’sradiatingfromtheinsideout.
“Hi,Carter.”CHAPTER20FORWARDCARTER
CanItouchher?Idon’tknowifIcantouchher.
Ikeepreachingforherhandandthenlettingithangthereinmidairbeforepullingitback,draggingitovermythigh.It’sallclammy,sosheprobablydoesn’tevenwanttoholdmyhandanyway.ButIwanttoholdhers.
Olivia’sbeingagoodsport,pretendingnottonoticehowanxiousIam,howIhavezerocluewhatthefuckI’mdoing.Shekeepshereyestrainedonthemovietrailersinfrontofus,buteverytimeIlookather,thecornerofhermouthquirksasshetriesnottolaughatme.
“I’msohot,”Iblurt,tuggingattheneckofmyhoodie.Ifanatmyface.“Areyouhot?”
Shetwistsinherseat,amusementtwinklinginhereyesasshewatchesme.“No.”
“Oh.Justmethen.”Leaningforward,Itugmyhoodieovermyhead,andOliviagruntsasmyelbowconnectswithsomepartofherbody.“Ohfuck.”Ishovemyhoodieinherlapandstickmyfaceinhers,myhandsrunningupanddownherarms,liftingthem,searchingfor…bruises?Idon’tfuckingknow.Christ,I’mafuckingmess.“DidIgetyou?Areyouhurt?Areyouokay?Sorrymyhandsaresosweaty.”Itwirloneintheair,thenpointtotheceiling.“It’stheheat.Ithinkthey’vegotitcrankedallthewayup.Wantmetoaskthemtoturnitdown?”Ipushonthearmrestsofmychair,climbtomyfeet,andthumbdowntherow.“I’llaskthemtoturnitdown.”
Oliviagrabsafistfulofmyshirtandtugsmebackdowntomyseat.“Thetemperatureisfine,Carter.Iknowyou’renervous,but—”
“Nervous?Me?Psssh.”Iwaveaflappyhandthroughtheair.“Please.TheycallmeMr.Confident.”
Hertonguepokestheinsideofhercheekasshefightshersmile.“Uh-huh.”
Isinkbackinmyseat,kneebouncingasIstareatthescreenbutdon’tactuallyseewhat’sonit.Thisparticulartheaterisrelativelyquietconsideringhowbusytheplaceis.Perksofseeingakid’smovieafterthey’veallgonetobed,Iguess.Anyway,Ikindawishitwasbusy,becausethenmaybeI’dhavesomethingelsetofocusonotherthanhowfuckingnervousIfeel.
She’shere.Shecame,allonherown.Whatdoesthatmean?Isthisadate?Doesshewantto,like…moveforward?Withme?Iwon’tfuckitup.I’mgonnabesofuckinggood,andI’mgonnashowherhowmuchshecantrustme.
“Carter,I—”
“I’mgonnagogetsnacks,”Ihalfyell,leapingtomyfeetbeforepromptlytrippingoverthemonmyfirststep,catchingmyselfagainsttherowinfrontofus.
“Areyouo—”
“I’mfine,”Icallovermyshoulder,scurryingdowntherow.“Snacks.Snacks,snacks,snacks.”IburymyfaceinmyhandsthesecondIburstintothehallway,leaningbackagainstthewall.Whatinthefuckiswrongwithme?She’s,like,halfmysize.WhyamIscaredofhersuddenlyandhowdoIbecome,like…normalagain?
Ipickthelongestlineattheconcessionstand,relishinginthetimealonetoscrewmyheadonstraight,butbythetimeIgettothecounterIaccidentallyordersomuchfoodthattheyhavetoputallmycandyandchocolateinapopcornbagsoIcancarryitall.
“Thanks.”IwraponearmaroundtheXLpopcorn,theotheraroundthebagoftreats,andcarefullypickupadrinkineachhand.“Andbytheway,it’shotasballsintheaterfour.Youshouldmaybethinkaboutturningtheheatdown.”
Thekidbehindthecounterblinksslowly.“Wekeepallourtheaterssetatsixty-fivedegrees.”
MybrowsriseasIgivehimapointedlook.“Yeah.Fuckingscorching.”
Withthat,Ileavehimstaringafterme,carryingmygoodiesbacktothetheater.
MyblooddrumsinmyearswitheachstepItake,climbingthestairstoOliviainthebackrow.HereyesshinewithlaughterassheunfoldsmyseatformesoIcansitdownwithmyhandsfull.Iplacethebagofcandyinherlapandshesnickersasshepeeksinsideit.
“Thisisalotoffood.”
“Yeah,IeatwhenI’mnervous.Andallthetime,really.AndIrememberthedayafterwemetyousaidyoulikesweetoversalty,soIgotafewbagsofchocolateandcandy,butwe’reatthemovies,soweneedpopcorntoo.Doyoulikepopcorn?Ididn’tknowwhatyouwantedforadrink,soIgotarootbeerandanicedtea,andyoucanhavewhicheveroneyouwant,orwecansplitthembothifyouwantsomeofeachandyoudon’tmindsharinggermsorwhatever,butifyoudon’twantmygerms,thenthat’scool,andwecan—”
“Carter.”Olivialaysherhandonmyforearm.It’ssoftandwarmandallIcanhearismyheart.“Takeabreath.Ilovechocolate,candy,andpopcorn.Ilikebothrootbeerandicedtea,soI’mokaywitheither,butwecanshareifyou’dlike,becauseIdon’tmindyourgerms.Okay?”
Ilickmylips.“Okay.”
“Thankyouforthis.Andthankyoufortheextra-extrabaconpizzalastnight.”
“Didyoufindthemostbacon-yslice?”
Shesmiles,andIthinkmyheartstops.“Idid,butitwashard,becausetherewassomuchbacon.Mydreamcometrue.”
“Iaskedthemtousetherealstuff,notthecrappycrumble.”
“Itwasincredible.”
“Okay.”Inod.“Yeah.Good.”
Thelightsdiminthetheater,aquiethumfadingtosilencethatmakesmyskincrawlasOliviasettlesbackinherseatandI’mforcedtogobacktopretendinglikeIdon’twanttotakeherfaceinmyhandsandkissher.
I’moneofthosepeoplethatgetscompletelyenrapturedinDisneymovies.MysisterandIspententireweekendslyingonmakeshiftpillowbedsonthelivingroomfloor,watchingeveryDisneymovieinourextensivecollection.It’soneofmyfavoritememories.Atnighttime,myparentswouldcuddleuponthecouchbehindus,andifwebeggedenough,they’dagreedtoletussleepoutthere,stayupandwatchthemovies.Icancountthetimeswemadeittomidnightononehand,andmoreoftenthannotweeachwokeupinourownbeds.
AndyetrightnowIcan’tfocusonasinglethinghappeningbetweenAnna,Elsa,Kristoff,Sven,orOlaf.
Bythetimewe’reahalfhourintothemovie,Oliviasetsthetreatsdownontheground,andIfollowherlead,placingthepopcorndowntoo.
Ican’tgetmykneetostopbouncing,andI’mitchingtodosomethingwithmyhands,namelyholdoneofhers.Instead,Iyankmytoqueoffmyheadandplowmyfingersthroughmyhair,tuggingonthestrands.
Oliviareachesout,gentlypullingmyhairfree,bringingmyhanddowntomylap,wheresheslowlytwinesherfingerswithmine.
“Okay?”sheasksonawhisper.
Istaredownatherhandinmine,sotiny,sosoft,sofuckingwarm,andwhenIpeerupather,shegivesmeatendersmile.Thefranticraceofmyheartslowstoasteadygallop,andthetensioninmyshouldersdissolves.
“Okay.”
***
“YoureallythoughtOlafwasgoingtodiethere,huh?”
“Hediddie,Ollie.Elsabroughthimbacktolife,thankfuck.Iwould’verioted.”InearlycutoffthecirculationtoherhandbygrippingitsotightwhileIwaited,hopingthefunnysnowmanwouldreappear.
“CanyouimagineifDisneymovieswereascutthroatnowastheywerewhenweweregrowingup?”
Ishudder,squeezingherhandasweheadthroughthelobbyofthetheater.“Therewassomuchtraumabackthen.”
“Butitshapedus.Iwouldn’tbewhoIwasifScardidn’ttossMufasaoffthatcliff,youknow?”
“I’llnevergetoverSimbatryingtowakehimup,”Ireplyaswestepintothecoldnight.
Oliviareleasesmyhand,stuffinghertoqueoverhermaneofcurlsandpullingherfloppy-earedpuppymittsfromhercoatpocket.“Thankyou,Carter.Ihadalotoffun.”
“Metoo.I’mgladyoucame.”Irockbackonmyheels,smilingdownatherasshesmilesupatme.Idon’twanttosaygood-bye.
Shetiltsherheaddownthestreet.“Um,I’mgonnagograbateaatthecoffeeshopdowntheroad.”
“Oh.Whatacoincidence.Iwasalsoabouttogothereandgetatea.Guesswecanwalktogether.Maybegrabaseatatthesametable.”
“Youdrinktea?”
“Never.”
Olivia’seyesshutwithherlaugh,andIwrapmyglovedhandaroundhersaswestartstrollingdownthestreet.Fatsnowflakesstartfallingfromthesky,clingingtoherlashes,thetipsofherhair,andshelookskindalikeasnowangel.
“Iguessyou’reusedtothiskindawinter,huh?”
“WegotourasseskickedeverywinterinMuskoka,”shenods,“buttheywerethemostgorgeouswinters.Towering,snow-coveredpines,andfrozenlakesthatlookedlikeglass.MybrotherandIwouldwalktoWillowBeachandplayhockeywherethelakewasfrozensolid.”Hernosewrinkles.“ButIthinkI’vegrowntooaccustomedtothesewestcoastwinters,becausewhatever’sgoingonlatelywiththisweatherisreallydoingmein.I’mthisclosetotakingCarauponheroffertofinishtheseasoninCabo.”
“Nah,youdon’twannadothat.You’dhavetolistentoherandEmhavephonesexeverynight.Trustme,it’snotsomethingyouwannahear.I’vebeensubjectedtoitforwaytoolongonourroadtrips.”Inudgehershoulderwithmine.“Plus,thatsoundslikealotofdayswithoutme,whichwouldultimatelysuckforyou.”
Hereyesglitter.“Isthatso?”
“Yeah,you’dmissmelikecrazyandyourdayswouldbeboringasfuckwithoutmemakingyoulaugh.”
Olivialaughs,asoftsoundasIopenthedoortothecoffeeshop.It’squietinhere,afewpeoplesprinkledthroughout,chattinglowlyandsippingonhotdrinks.
Oliviareachesintoherpurse,producingherwallet.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“You’renotpaying.”
“I’mpaying.”
“No,you’renot.I’mpaying.”
“Youpaidforthemoviesandthesnacks.”
“Yeah,’causeyoukickedmyassinbeerpong—bywayofcheating—andIowedyouanightatthemovies.It’sthesamenight,soitcounts.”
“Carter—”
“Youwon’twin,Ollie,soyoumightaswelltellmewhatyouwant.”
Shefrownsbuttucksherwalletaway.“I’dloveaLondonfogtealatte,pleaseandthankyou.”
Pullingmywalletfrommybackpocket,Ichuckle.
“Whatareyoulaughingat?”
“JustthinkingaboutthewayyoukeptbitingmyheadoffwhenItriedtobuyyouabeerthenightwemet,andthenwhispered‘butthankyou’aftereachattempt,likeyoudidn’tknowhowtoturnmedownsoaggressivelywithoutbeingpolitetoo.”
Shebitesbackhergrin,pinningherarmsoverherchest.“Youwerebeinganassthatnight.”
“I’manassmostnights.”
“No,you’renot.Ithinkyoupretendmorethananything,untilyougettoknowsomeone,atleast.”
“Maybeyou’reright.”Iinclinemyheadtowardaprivatetabletuckedinthebackcorner.“Gositdown.I’llbringthedrinksover.”
Ibringcookiesandmuffins,too,andOlivialooksatmelikeIhavefiveheadswhenIseteverythingdownonthetable.
“What?Ifyoudon’tfinishityoucantakeithomewithyou.OrI’lleatit.I’malwayshungry.”
“Areyoustillnervous?”
Ishakemyhead,breakingagingermolassescookieinhalf,slidingtheotherhalfovertoOlivia.“Idon’tthinkso.Notanymore.”Istudyher,thewayshe’shunchedforwardslightly,playingwithasmallpieceofhercookie,teethskimmingherbottomlip.“Butnowyou’renervous.”
Heatrushestohercheeks.“Alittlebit.”
“Why?”
“Becauseweneedtotalk,andnormallyI’mgoodattalkingbut…sometimesIfeelkindoffoggyaroundyou.”
“Isthatbecauseyou’reconfused?”
“Yes.”Sheshakesherheadquicklywhenmyfacefalls,touchingherfingerstothebackofmyhand.“NotaboutthewayIfeelaboutyou.Ijustthink…Ithinkmymindisalwaysgoingintwodifferentplaces,thinkingabouteverythingthatcouldgowrong,buteverythingthatcouldgorighttoo.It’shardtofocus,andIgetlostinthisspaceinbetween,whereI’mjust…scaredandconfused.”
“Igetthat.”
“Youdo?”
Inod.“IthinkIwasthinkingthesamething,butmaybeindifferentways.Ididn’tknowhowtostepforward,becauseI’dnevergoneinthatdirectionbefore.AndthenwhenIwantedtostepforward,youwantedtoleave,anditwasconfusing.”Ilookdownatmyhotchocolate,thewhippedcreampipedontop,thechocolateshavingsandsprinkleofcinnamon,andwhenImeetOlivia’sgazeagain,somuchvulnerabilityshinesinhereyes.“Imighthavebeenconfusedaboutwhywewereondifferentpages,butIunderstandyourfears.”Myshoulderpopsupanddown.“IguessIjustwishyouwould’vestayedandtalked.Wecouldhavetriedtofigureitouttogether.”
ThesoundofquietchatteranddishesclankingdriftsaroundusasOliviamullsovermywords.
“Wecouldhave,”shefinallysays.“ButIhonestlydon’tthinkitwould’vebeeneffective,andthat’sbecauseIcouldn’twrapmyheadaroundwhatwashappening.IthinkIneededtostepawaytoevaluatemyfeelings,howfastandstrongtheycameon,andmypriorities,thoughIwishIhadn’thurtyouintheprocess.”Thetipofherforestgreennailtapsonhermug.“Couldwetrytofigureitoutnow?Orisittoolate?”
“It’snevertoolate,Ollie.ButIdothink…Ithinkmaybeweshouldtakeitslow.Ortryto,atleast.Youknow,properdatesandstuff,whereyoucanlearntotrustme.”
Hermouthquirksasshenods.“Iwouldlikethat,Carter.”
“Kissingdoesn’tqualifyasslow,though,incaseyouwerewondering.”
“Ohreally?Arewetalkinginnocentpecksor—”
“Tonsilhockey.”
Oliviasnortsalaugh,myfavoritekind,clappingahandoverhernoseandmouth.“Thatfeelsfasttome.”
“Well,youhavelittlelegs.ItmakessensethatyouthinkeverythingIdoisfast.Somethingforyoutoworkon,Iguess.”
Browneyesrollassheshiftsbackinherchairtoslingonelegovertheotherandtosseshercurlsoverhershoulder.“Andyoucanworkonearningyourtongueinmymouth.”
MylidshoodasIleancloser.“Achallenge?Iloveachallenge.”
Shehideshersmilebehindhermug.“AndIlovewatchingyoulose.”
“Oh,Ineverlose,Ol.”
“Right.Justatbeerpong.”
Agrowlrumbleslowinmychest,andwhenOliviasnickersintohertea,Ismile.
“Ireallylikeyou,”Imurmur.
Tendernessswimsinhereyesashershouldersdrop.“Ireallylikeyou,too,Carter.Thankyouforbeingpatientwithmeandgivingmesometime.”
Thetruthis,IthinkI’dgiveheranythingsheeverneeded,allshe’dhavetodoisask.
Andwhenwefinallyambleoutofthecoffeeshopatmidnight,strollinghandinhandbacktothetheaterwherewe’rebothparked,Iwonderifshe’swhatI’vebeenneedingallthistime.Itfeelsthatway.
“Savemeadancetomorrow?”
“Youcanhaveasmanydancesasyoulike.”
Itughertoquedownalittlelower,coveringherears.“WhatifIwantthemall?”
“Thatwouldn’tsurprisemeatall.”
“I’veneverbeengoodatsharing.”Ibrushherhairoverhershoulder,knucklesskimminghercheek.“You’renotgonnaletmekissyourightnow,areyou?”
“No,I’mnot.”Shetugsonmycoat,guidingmyfacedownuntilmymouthhoversabovehers.“Youneedtoworkonyourself-controlifwe’regoingtodothisslow,Mr.Beckett.”
“Fine,butI’veneverbeengoodwithself-control.”Iwatchassheclimbsintohercar.“Thatrulewasmoreofaguidelineanyway.Andyouwannakissmetoo!”
“OfcourseIdo.”Shehitsmewithawinkasshestartspullingherdoorclosed.“ButIwanttowatchyoulosemore.”CHAPTER21HOLYFUCKBALLSCARTER
Iseeherthesecondshewalksthroughthedoor.
Youcan’tmissher.Gorgeouslittlethingthatstealsinthedoorway,myheartstopsbeatingatthesightofher.
IwatchEmmettwrapherinhisarmsbeforehestartsslidinghercoatoff,revealingthedressthattookOliviathreetripstothemalltofind.Don’taskmehowIknowthat.
She’sstunning,butshealwayshasbeen.Absurdlyso,andtonightisnodifferent.Shecouldbewearingmyhockeybagzippeduptoherneckwitharmholecutoutsandshe’dstillbethemostbeautifulwomanI’veeverlaidmyeyeson.
Actually,thatdoesn’tsoundhalfbad.Imakeamentalnotetoaskhertoposenakedwithallmyhockeyequipmentinthenearfuture.I’mgonnatakeafuckloadofpicturesofthatwoman.Myphone’sgonnabefullofOlivia.
Butshe’snotwearingahockeybag.Fuck.No.She’snot.Thisdress.Sweet,holyfuckballs,thisdress
“Shit.”Idon’tknowifit’sGarrettorAdamwhobreathestheonlywordIcanthinkof.They’rebothstaring,browsslowlyclimbingtheirforeheadsastheyfollowthelineofherpetitebodydown,down,down,andthenbackup,gazeslingeringonherplungingnecklinethesamewayminedoes.
Igulp.“Yeah.”
Drapedincrimsonlace,Olivialooksastemptingandmouthwateringasacandyapple.She’sforbiddenfruit,andIwanttodevourher.
Ifightagroanasmyeyesbouncearoundherperfectlyhuggedcurves,thewaythelaceclingstoherwaist,slipsdownherlusciousthighs,beforeflowingoutaroundherknees.She’sthreeincheshigherinthosesparklygoldheelsthatmatchthebarretteinherhair,styledinthickwavestonight.
There’sanairofconfidenceabouthertonight.Maybeit’sbecausethatdressmakesherfeelasstunningassheisallthattime,ormaybebecausewefixedthingslastnight.Maybebecauseshe’shellbentonmakingmelosecontrol,readytowatchwithasmile.ButifIhadtoguessbythesimpleriseandfallofherchest,I’dsayshe’salittlenervousunderneathitall.
AsnervousasIwastwonightsagowhenIlookedupfromthefridgeandfoundherstandingthere,orwhenIranawayfromhertogetsnacksatthemovieslastnight.Couldn’tcontrolmygoddamnpitchandwoundupshoutingmywordsather.Idon’tthinkshenoticedthough,soI’mprobablysafe.Totallyincontrol.I’vegotthis.
I’mnotgoofyCartertonight.I’mhardCarter.I’mwearinganimpenetrablemaskshewon’tbeableto…penetrate?Fuck.Idonno.NowallI’mthinkingaboutispenetration.Youknow,thegoodkind.Thehotkind.Thewetkind.Thefist-in-her-hair,make-her-scream-my-namekind.
Totallyincontrol.
Except—fuckme—whenshespinsandflashesmetheredribbonthatthreadsoverthesmooth,milkyskinonherback,Idiealittleontheinside.
“I’mdeceased,”Imutter,adjustingthequicklyswellinglumpbetweenmylegs.Notnow,swordofthunder,Imentallytellmydick.Standdown,bigbuddy.
“She’sdressedtokill.”Adam’sgazeslidesmyway.“Youshouldprobablytakethatasasign.She’sgonnaownthissituation.She’sincontrol.”Hesighsandshakeshishairout.“Girlsarealwaysincontrol.”
“I’mincontrol,”Igrowllowly.
Becausehere’sthethingaboutme:I’mpersistent.Fierce.Voraciousandsoboldlyconfident.WhenIsetmysightsonsomethingIwant,Idon’trestuntilI’vegotit.OliviaParkerisnodifferent.Imayhavehadheronce,butoncewillneverbeenough,notwithher.Iwantheroverandoveragain.Iwanttofuckingownher,makehermine,everydamninchofher,fornobodybutme.
I’mawarethat’salittlecavemanofme.
Buthere’stheotherthing:Idon’tfuckingcare.
ExceptthenOliviapeeksatmefromoverhershoulder,darklashesfluttering,andsheslowly—sodamnslowly—skimsherfingersoverthecurveofherhips,theswellofherroundass,thedipofherteensywaist,allwhileherlowerlipslidesbetweenherteeth.
Fuck.I’mnotincontrol.I’mnotincontrolatfuckingall.OLIVIA
Oooh,holyfuckballs.
Don’tlook,don’tlook,don’tlook.
He’sinasuit.Afullsuit.Three-piece,midnightblue.MyGod,itcouldnotfithimanymoreperfectly.Hugginghisbroadshoulders,taperedaroundhissharp,leanwaist.Holycrap,thosethick,muscularthighs.Irememberthosebadboyspinningmetothemattressashe—
Ifanatmyfacewithtwoflappyhands.
Ineedtostop.Ineedtonot.Ineedto…Crap,Idon’tknow.IthinkIneedtomountthatmaninabathroom.Myheadcranks,lookingforsaidbathroom.
“Hot?”Caraasks,leaningdowntowhisperinmyear.She’sstunningtonightinherskintightwhitelace,thefemaleequivalenttoCarter.They’rebothotherworldlybeings.It’snotfair.
“Yep.Superhotinhere.Isthefurnaceon?Youshouldaskthemtoturnitdown.Air-conditioning,maybe.Hot.”
Shehitsmewithoneskeptical,squintyeye.“We’reinthemiddleofadeepfreezethatVancouverhasn’tseeninyears,youhavenoheatathome,andyouwantthemtoturnontheair-conditioning?”Shefollowsmydartingeyesandsmirksatmystill-flappinghands.“Maybeyouneedsomeonetoputoutyourfire.”
“Huh?”IsnapmyheadinherdirectionandthenbackatCarter.Myeyesnearlyrolloutoftheirsocketswhenhecatchesmestaring,andunfortunatelyflapping,soIyelpandgripCara’sarms.“Helpme.I’msupposedtobeincontrol.He’stheonethat’ssupposedtogivein.”
“Nocando,Livvie-pie.Idon’thavethebodypartsrequiredforthekindofhelpyouneed.I’lltellyouwhatIcando,though.”Shestopsawaiterwithatrayofchampagne,poursoneglassintoanother,thenrepeats.Sheswipesbothfull-to-the-brimglassesoffthetrayandhandsonetome.“Icangetyoudrunk.”
Ichuckleasmyglassclinkshers,andassoonasthatfirstsipofbubblyslidesdownmythroat,Iletoutadeepbreath.BythetimeI’mfinishedwithmyseconddoubleglassofchampagne,Caradisappearstomingle.Ishouldprobablyslowdown,butthenGarrettamblesoverwithafrostybeerineachhand,andIhappilyacceptone.
“Youlookgorgeous,”hesays,pullingmeintohim.Hesmellsnice,andIwonderwhatCartersmellsliketonight.Freshlimeandman,that’smyguess.Manlyman.Throw-me-over-his-shoulder-Viking-styleman.
“Thankyou,Garrett.”Ismileupathimashepullsback,hishandslippingslowlyfrommywaist.Hisgazedartsovermyshoulderandheclearshisthroat,jerkinghishandbacktohisside.“Youhockeymensurecleanupnice,don’tyou?”Ifixtheknotofhistie,whichishangingtoofartotherightandtoolow.“It’snicetoseeyou.”
He’sgotsuchagreatgrinandseemssohappyallthetime,carefree,kindalikeacutedog.“Yeah,we’vemissedseeingyouaround.Someslightlymorethanothers.”Heleanscloser,mouthnexttomyear.“Hey,wannaspikeCarter’sbloodpressure?”
“Whatdidyouhaveinmind?”
Hesetsourbeersdownonthebarandholdsoutonehand,asneakysmilespreading.“Dancewithme.”
Withagiggle,Islipmyhandintohisandlethimleadmeoutonthedancefloor.Hispalmrestsgentlyonmylowerbackashestartstwirlingusslowlyacrossthespace,andIfeeltheheatofCarter’sgazeasittouchesmyspine.
“Can’ttakehiseyesoffyou,”Garrettwhispers.“I’mprettysurehe’scurrentlydecidingwhichofmybodypartsheshouldremovefirst.”WhenIlaugh,Garrettgrins,andhespinsmeoutbeforepullingmebackin.“Youbeenkeepingupwiththeteam?”
“Ofcourse.YourgoalagainstVegasonTuesday?Chef’skiss.”
Hisfacelights,chestswellingwithpride.“Yeah?Rightthroughthefive-hole.Whataboutyou?Cartertoldmeyoucoachthegirls’volleyballteamatyourschool.”
“Hetalksaboutme?”
“Whenhe’snotbeingamopeyballsack?Yeah,hetalksaboutyouallthetime.”
Ican’timagineamopeyversionofCarter.He’ssoupbeatallthetime,charismaticandboisterous.ThatImadehimthatwayhasawaveofguiltrushingoverme.
“Yeah,”Garrettwhispers,tappingthecornerofmymouthwhereI’mfrowning.“That’sexactlyhowhelooked.Youtwoaremadeforeachother.”
“I—Idon’t—areyou—myvolleyballteamlostinthesemifinals,anddoyouthinkwe’rereallymadeforeachother?He’sCarterBeckettandI’mOliviaParkerandI’msoshortandhe’ssotallsoareweevenallthatcompatible,bodypartsthatdon’tlineupandstufflikethat?”
Garrett’swatchingme,grinninglikeabitofajackass.“ThatwasthemostimpressiveroundofwordvomitI’veeverheard.ButI’mgonnaneedyoutogetittogetherandgetyourheadinthegame.I’vegotmoneyridingonCarterbeingthefirsttocrack,notyou.”
“I’mscaredyoumadethewrongbet.”
“Ibelieveinyou,Ollie.”
That’sgreat,butasthesongendsandheleavesmewithmybeer,it’sbecomingmoreandmoreclearIdon’tbelieveinmyself.I’munraveling,fallingapartattheseams,andIhaven’tevenspokentothemanresponsibleformydemise.
Withasighthatseemsneverending,IscrubahandovermyeyesandspinbacktothebarsoIcangluemyselftoastoolbeforeIcauseanymoreself-inflicteddamage.
Ofcourse,Ibounceoffsomethinghardonmyway,mydrinksplashingovertheedgeofmyglass,coatingmyfingers,poolingonthefloor.
“Shit,I’msosorry.I’mamesstonight.Iwasn’twatchingwhereIwasgoing.DidIgetyou…wet…Oh-God-shit.”Thoselastthreewordscomerushingoutinonepuffofair.
OhGodshitisright.
“OhGodshit,”Carterhums,onehandshovedinhispocket,theotherholdingacrystalglassfilledwithamberliquidashetowersoverme.“That’sanewone.”
Mylegsareshaking.I’mnotjoking.Mybodyislegitimatelytremblingrightnow,andwhenCarterreachesoutandbrusheshisfingersovermycollarbone,sweepingacurloffmyshoulderandlettingitslipthroughhisfingers,Isqueezemyeyesshut.
Whatthefuckishappeningrightnow?Iwasperfectlyfinelastnight,andsoutterlyincontrolwhenIwalkedthroughthisdoorearlier.Isitthealcohol?It’sthealcohol.Carter’sdefinitelynotmakingmeweak.He’snot…winning
“Yougotyourhaircut.”
Ismackmyglassagainstmyhead,whichIgrabwithbothhands,asiftoask,thishair?“Today.”
“Today?”
“Yeah,Igotitdonetoday.”WhenCarter’sbrowsquirk,IrealizeI’mborderlineyelling,thewayhedidtheothernight.Itouchmythroat,feelingthewayitbobswhenIswallow,andtryagain,thistimeinawhisper.“Igotitcutthismorning.”Imakescissorswithmyrighthandandsnapthemtwice.“Snip-snip.”
OhGod.Cartermightbewinning.
“Hm.”Hetucksmyhairbehindmyear,thetipofhisfingerskimmingmysparklygoldbarrette.Hiseyesdon’tleavemineasheswirlstheliquidinhisglassandtossesitback,lettingitfillhischeeksbeforeitslidesdownhisthroat.Heslamstheemptyglassonthebarbeforetakingmyhalf-fullbeerandditchingthattoo.
Andhewalksforward.
Notwalk.Heprowls.Heprowlsforward,andIslinkbackwarduntilIhitawall.
Hisfingersghostoverthedipofmywaistasheloomsoverme,andmyheartslamsagainstmysternumlikeithopeshemightkissme,butinstead,hislipspauseatmyear.
“Excuseme,MissParker.”Hisbreathiswarmandspicywithsweetnotesofvanillaandcaramelasitrollsdownmyneck,andhisgazefallstomylipsastheypartonashudderinginhale.
Thewallbehindmesuddenlyopens,andIstumblebackwardintocompletedarkness.
Carterflipsthelightswitch,illuminatingtheextravagantbathroomwe’veentered.
Andthenhehitsthelock.
Myheartsputterslikeaslowlydyingcar.
Hisbroadhandsseizemyhipsashespinsmetowardthevanity,slappingmypalmsdownonthecounter.I’macutelyawareofthewaymyexposedskinsingesatthefeelofhim,theheavyweightthatpressesintomylowerback.Thetipsofhisfingersdanceupmyforearms,circlingmybicepswhenhegripsme.Hisnosetouchesthespotwheremyshouldermeetsmyneckbeforecoastingup,settlingattheshellofmyear.
“Youstartedoffsogood,”hemurmurs.“Sostrong.Youwalkedinherelikeawomanwithalltheconfidenceintheworld,battingyourlashesatme,runningyourhandsoveryourbody,andIthoughtforsureIwasdone,agoner.Allmyself-controlflewoutthewindow.”
Hedragshismouthdownmyneck,onehandsplayedovermybelly,theotherglidingovermyhip,downtheoutsideofmythighuntilhefiststhehemofmydress.Thelacescrapessoftlyagainstmyskinashepullsitup,andmybreathcatchesinmythroatasIarchawayfromhisbody,pushingmyselftowardhishand.
Fuckcontrolandfuckslow.Ijustwanthimtofuckme
Ifeelhissmileagainstmyshoulder,andwhenmyeyesmeethisdarkonesinthereflectionofthemirror,Iknowhe’sgotme.Heknowstoo.
“Butthenyougaveyourselfaway.You’readorablewhenyou’reamess,youknowthat?”
Thepadofhisthumbtracestheedgeofmysilkpanties,andatremblingbreathescapesmylips,sparksflutteringthroughoutmeasheteasesme.
“Doyouwantmetotouchyou?”
“Yes,”Igasp.“Please.”
Asatisfiedhumcrawlsuphisthroat,andhismouthclosesovertheedgeofmyjaw.Isinkintohim,fingersfindinghisperfectlystyledwaves.
Thenhepullsback,takinghisscorchingtouchwithhim,leavingmegapinginthemirror.
Itwist,watchinginhorrorasheadjuststhelumpinhispants,straightenshistie,andfixeshishair.“Whatareyoudoing?”
Heinclineshisheadtowardthedoor.“Headingbackoutthere.”
“Butyou…yousaid…Isaid…”
Hislargehandbracketsmyjaw.“Yousaidyouwantedmetotouchyou.AndmaybeIwill.Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Afterwegoforlunch.”
“L-lunch?”
Henods,tuckinghisphoneinmyhands.“Address,please.SoIcanpickyouuptomorrowforourdate.”
“I—”
“Now,Olivia.”
Iscrambletoentermyaddressundertheweightofhisstare,andwhenI’mdone,hesweepsmeintothenoisyhallway.
Tippingmyfaceup,hepressesatenderkisstothecornerofmymouth.“You’reabsolutelyfuckingstunning,MissParker.”
CaralaunchesherselfthroughahoardofpeopleasIwatchCarterdisappear.Shegripsmyshouldersandgivesmeashake,makingmyheadbobble.“Whatthehelljusthappened?Youguyswereintherefor,like,tenminutes.”Hergazetravelsdown,notingmyflushedcheeks,myrumpleddress.“OhmyGod.Youhadsexinthefuckingbathroom!Iknewit!”
Herheadcranksassheyellsintothecrowd.“Garrett!Youoweme,Em,andAdamahundredbuckseach!”
“Fuckthat!”hescreamsbackfromtheabyss.“There’snowayshegaveitupthatquickly!”
***
It’sbeenthreehoursandI’mwonderingwhenCarter’sgoingtocashinonthedancehemademepromisehimlastnight.There’snoshortageofhockeyplayerswhowanttodancetonight,that’sforsure.I’vebeenspinningaroundthedancefloorallnightwithveryfewbreaksinbetween,butthemanIreallywanttodancewithseemsperfectlycontenttowatchmefromafar.
I’mexhausted,alittledizzy,andtipsyenoughthatIcan’tstopgiggling.Ifhedoesn’taskmetodancesoon,I’mgoingtobeasleepinthecoatcheckcloset.
Allhe’sgivenmeislingeringstares,smileshiddenbehindtherimofhisglass,grazingtouchesoverthesmallofmybackasheleansaroundmeatthebartoorderanewdrink.I’monedge,whichisexactlywherehewantsme.
“Yourfeetmustbekillingyoubynow,”Adamsaysasweswaybackandforth,myhandinhis.“Haveyoutakenabreak?”
“Youguysdon’tseemtohavethatwordinyourvocabulary.”
Helaughs.“Fairenough.”
“Ican’twaittogethome,throwtheseheelsinacloset,andclimbintoabubblebath.”
“Withagoodbookandaglassofwine?”
“Maybesanswine.”I’msuremyflushedcheekssayitall.“I’vehadmyfairsharetonight.”
Adamtwirlsmeoutandpullsmebackin.Humorshinesinhiseyesastheylockonaspotovermyshoulder.“Ilovemakingthatmanjealous.”
Hemovesusinaslowcircle,positioningmesothatIcanseeCarter,who’sperchedagainstawallwithahandfulofhisteammates.HiseyesbouncearoundmeandAdam,thepositioningofourhands—whichisprettydamninnocent;themanhasagirlfriend,thoughshe’snothere—beforecoastingbacktome.
Acrookedgrinbloomsonhisface,pullinginhisdeepdimples,andhesetshisglassdown,straighteningoffthewall.
Adamchuckles.“Aboutdamntime.He’sbeentryingtoconvinceusallnighthe’sincontrol.”Hisbluegazedipstomine,hissmilesofullofkindness.“I’mreallyhappyyoutwoaregivingthisago.He’sbeenhunguponyousincedayone,singingnonstop,grinninglikeanasshole.He’ssodamnexcitedtospendtimewithyoutomorrow.Therestofusareexcitedforhimtostopwhining.”
“Don’tlistentoAdam,”Carter’slowvoicerumblesbehindme.“Hedoesn’tknowwhathe’stalkingabout.”
“Hetextedusallliterallythesecondyoudroveawaylastnight,Ollie;trustme.”
“Allright.”CarterstepsbetweenmeandAdam.“Enoughofthat.Myturn.”
“Iwasbeginningtothinkyouweren’tgoingtocashinonyourdance,”Isayashehaulsmeagainsthischest,onehandonmyback,theotherholdingmine.
“Iwantedtobeyourlast.”
“Mmm.Yourfriendsaretattlingonyou.”
Hisforestgreeneyesgleam.“Maybethey’refullofshit.”
“Maybe.”Itwinemyfingersinthewavesatthenapeofhisneck.“ButIdon’tthinktheyare.Ithinkyoumissedme,andIthinkyoubraggedaboutlastnighttoyourfriends.”
Thecornerofhismouthquirks.“Someofmyarroganceisrubbingoffonyou.”
“Ibetyou’dliketorubsomethingelseoffonme.”
Carterguffaws,anditfeelslikemysinglegreatestaccomplishmentever.“Sonaughty,MissParker.Itmustbetheheels.Theaddedheightgivesyouaddedconfidence.”Hismouthdipslow,hoveringabovemine.“Butyouknowwhathappenswhenyou’vebeennaughty,don’tyou?Yougetpunished.”
“Mmm.Bywho?You?”
“Onlyme.Doyouwanttobeonyourkneeswhenyougetpunished,orovermylap?”
Myheartbeatthrums,settlingbetweenmylegs,andbutterflieseruptinmystomach,swirlingsoviolentlyIfeeldizzy.IneedtogohomebeforeIaccidentallybegthismantofuckmeonthebathroomsink.Ihavehigherstandardsthanthat.
OrdoI?No,Idon’tthinkIdo.
“What’sthematter,Olivia?Youseemlikeyou’rewavering.”
Mylipspresstogetherasmyheadwags.“Nope.No.I’mjust…”Ipullawayfromhim,shakingmyhandsoutbeforeIpressonetomyforehead.“Tired.Supertired.IthinkIneedtogohome.”
Poppinguponmytoes,Ikisshisstunnedcheek,waveforgoodmeasure,andjettowardthecoatcloset.OnceI’vesaidmygood-byestothefuturebrideandgroom,Ibravethecold.There’safreshdustingofsnowcoveringthesidewalks,kissingmytoes,andmyteethclatterasIpulluptheUberapponmyphone.
Alavishlimostopsoutfront,idlingbythecurb,andwhenthedriveropensthebackdoorandgesturesinside,mybrowsinchtowardmyhairline.
Ipointatmyself,andhesmiles,nodding.
Iwaveaflailinghandthroughtheair.“Oh,no.Youmusthavemeconfusedwithsomeoneelse.I’mabouttoorderan—”
“Getin.”Cartertugsmyphonefrommyhand,sweepingmetowardthelimowithhishandonmyback.
“ButI—”
“Getinthecar,Olivia.”Hisleather-glovedthumbbrushesmytremblinglowerlip.“Yourtoesaregoingtofalloff,andIwanttomakesureyougethomesafe.”
“Yeah.Okay.”Myhead’sbobbingbutmyfeetaren’tmoving.
Cartergivesmeagentleshove,hishandstightonmywaistasheessentiallyliftsmeoffthegroundandplacesmeonthebackseat.Heslidesinnexttome,spreadinghislegs,andwhenherecitesmyaddressintoaspeaker,Iresisttheurgetosnort.
“AreyoucheckingtomakesureIdidn’tgiveyouafakeaddress?”
“Youwouldn’tdothat.Youlikemetoomuch.”
Rollingmyeyesandcrossingmyarms,Istarestraightaheadatthedividerthathidesusfromthedriver,pretendingnottonoticethewayCarterlayshisglovesinhislapandproceedstofuckaroundonhisphone.Buttenminutesin,hehasn’tpaidmeadamnbitofattentionwhileI’mstuckinthissteelboxwithhim,andifIdon’tgettobeincontrol,neitherdoeshe.
“Areyouseriouslycheckingthesportsupdatesrightnow?”
Asneakysmiletugsonhislips.“No.”
“You’rebeinganass.”
“Youdon’tmeanthat.”
Islingonelegovertheother.“You’reright.Youdon’tknowhowtolookatortalktomewithoutlosingcontrol.Igetit.Thisiseasierforyou.”
Thereitis.
Hetuckshisphoneinhiscoatpocketandswivelsmyway.Electricgreeneyesdroptomylips,andashemovestowardme,mybreathsnagsinmythroat.“YousayingIdon’tknowhowtoplaythegame,Parker?”
“Apparentlynotthisone,Beckett.”
“Thinkyoucanplaybetterthanme?”
“Isn’tthatwhatI’vebeendoing?”
Hispalmhitsmycollarbone,shovingmedowntomyback,andhishandsslaptotheleatherseats,bracketingmyheadashehoversaboveme.Hedropshishipstomine,andtheheatofhistouchburnsmyskinasheskimshishandupmythigh,slippingitbelowmydress.
Hetrailsslow,wetkissesupthecolumnsofmythroat,nippingtheedgeofmyjaw,lingeringatmyear.“Proveit.”
Arawacheunfurlsbetweenmylegsashepullsaway,grazinghisthumbovermysilkpanties,thethrobbingnubbelow.
Hesinksbackinhisseat,lookingwaytoodamnpleasedwithhimself,smilingdownatthemotherfuckingsportsupdatesagain.
Thecarrollstoastopnottensecondslater,andbeforehecanopenhismouth,Ijumpoutofthecar,slammingthedoorbehindme.
“Ollie,”hecalls,chasingafterme.Ihatethatitcomesoutachuckle,andIhateevenmorewhenIsliponapatchoficeonmyporchsteps,sendingmeflyingbackward,rightintohisstupid,hardchest.“DidIwin?”heasks,settingmedownatmydoor.
“No,”Igrumble,steppinginsidemyfreezinghouse.Ikickoffmyheels.“Ihaven’tkissedyou.”
He’sdoingashitjobathidingthatsmuggrinonhisface.“We’resupposedtobetakingthisslow.”
“Iknow.”
“Sonokissing.”
“Right.”
“Woulditmakeyoufeelbetterifyouwon?”
“Idon’t—”
Carterswallowsmywordswithhismouth,hisfingersplungingthroughmyhairasmybackhitstheclosetinthefronthall.Hishandslidesupmyleg,beneathmydress,wrappingaroundmybarehipasIgrindmyselfintohim.Idon’thaveitinmetocarethatthefrontdoorisopen,andthepoorlimodriveris100percentgettingafreeshowrightnow.
“Fuckslow,”hegrowls.“Ican’tdoslow.Notwithyou.”
God,Idon’twantslow.Iwanttocrackthiswholethingwideopen,thechemistry,thepassion,thefire.Iwanttogivehimallofmeandtakeallofhim.
Carterpullsaway,swipinghishandoverhismouth,hisbreathingraggedandunevenashisgazerakesoverme.Somethingbloomsthere,somethingvulnerableandcautious.Heclearshisthroat,gazedropping.“I…Imissedyouwhileyouweregone.”
Withmyhandonhischeek,Iguidehisgazebacktomine.“ImissedyouwhileIwasgonetoo.”
There’sthatmegawattgrin,perfectteethanddeepdimples,andbeforeheleaves,hedashesbackdowntothelimo,jumpsovertheicystep,andreturnsamomentlaterwithasmallblueboxthathepressesintomyhand.
Heplacesalingeringkissonmylips.“Sleeptight,Olliegirl.”
OnceI’mmakeup-freeandwarmandsnuginmyfuzzysocksandpajamas,Istandoverthekitchencounterandliftthelidonthebluebox.Insideisacupcake,andthetinyflagthatsticksoutofthefrostingtellsmethatit’smaplepecan,toppedwithmaplebuttercreamfrostingandbaconcrumble.
There’sasmallnotetapedunderthelid:
Igotyouthemostbacon-yone.
xoCarterCHAPTER22I’MNOTANXIOUS;I’MINCONTROLCARTER
“Stopsmilinglikeajackass.”
“Youcan’tproveshit,oldman.”
Hankfindsmyface,coveringitwithhishandandshovingitaway.“Iknowyoulikethebackofmyhand,Carter.”
Chuckling,Ifinishrearrangingthefoodonhisplatebeforeslidingitovertohim.“Steakisattwelveo’clock,scrambledeggsatthree,hashbrownsatsix,andtoastwithjamatnine.”IwaitforhimtolocatehisforkbeforeIanswerhim.“Mightbesmilingabit,butneverlikeajackass.”
Hesnorts,stabbingathissteak.“Ihighlydoubtthat,butwhydon’tyougoaheadandtellmewhyyou’resmiling.”Hegesturesatmewithhisfork.“Doesithaveanythingtodowithwhyyoushowedupthreehoursearlytodayandwe’rehavingbreakfastinsteadoflunch?”
Dublin’sheadwhipsbackandforthbetweenmeandHank,watchingeverydisappearingbite.Poorguy’sgotapuddleofdroolsobiggatheringathisfeetthatI’mbeginningtoworryitmightbeaslippinghazard,soIlethimeatabreakfastsausagefrommyhand.
“Youfeedingmydamndogagain?Youspoilhim.”Hank’sownfingersfindapieceofsteak,andhesmileswhenDublindoesn’thesitatetodevourit.
“Ihaveadatetoday.Alunchdate.”Anall-daydate,really,butOliviadoesn’tknowthatyet.PrettysureIonlysaidlunch.
IglanceatHank,hishandgrippinghisforkinmidair,halfwaytohismouth,whichishangingopen.Hedoesn’thavetolooksoshocked.I’mdate-worthy.Icandate.It’snotabigdeal.
“Olivia?”hefinallywhispers.“Yougotthegirlback?”
“Idid.”MyvoicesoundsasexcitedasIknowIlook.
Hisforkclatterstothetablewhenheclapshishandstogether,beforehereachesoutandgraspsmine.Hissmileissobroad,sogenuinethatitmakesminegrow.
“Iknewyouwould,Carter.”HetwiststowardDublin.“Didn’tItellya,Dubs?ItoldyouCarterwouldwinherback.Isaidyouwerewrong,thatheisn’tapansy.”HepatsDublin’shead.“Youshouldn’ttalklikethatabouthimwhenhe’snotaround,buddy.He’sanokayguy.”
Irollmyeyes,grumblingundermybreath.
“Didyoukissher?”
“Mhmm.Didn’tmeanto,though.”AperfectexampleofhowincontrolIam,whichistosaynotatfuckingall.Frankly,it’samiracleIdidn’tfuckherinthebathroomattheparty.Thescrapofsilkshewaswearingbetweenherlegswasasorryexcuseforunderwear
“Whatthehelldoyoumeanyoudidn’tmeanto?Whodoesn’tmeantokissabeautifulladyyou’retryingtowinover?”Hecrosseshislegs,kickingmeinthekneeintheprocess.Prettysureit’sdeliberate.
Whydidn’tImeantokissher?That’sagoodquestion.
Ohyeah.’CauseI’mtryingtoremindusbothwho’sincharge.Right.
ExceptI’mnotsureit’sme.Ithinkitmightbeher.
Prettydamnsureit’sher.
“I’mtryingtotakecontrol.”
Hanksnickersintohisnapkin.Itspiralsquickly,andsuddenlyhe’skeeledoverthetable,everybodyinthedinerlookingtoseewhat’ssofunny.
“Control?You?Aman?”Heslapsapalmdownonthetable.“Shit,I’veneverheardsomethingfunnier.Carter,letmetellyasomething,son.”Leaningonhiselbow,hebraceshishandoutbetweenus,pointingmyway.“Inarelationship,theonlypersoneverincontrolisthewoman.Shealways—always,always,always—hasthepower.Sheownsyouandthosedanglythingsbetweenyourlegs.”Hecupsbothhandssidebyside,aroundimaginaryballs,Ipresume.Leaningbackinthebooth,hesighs.“Thesooneryourealizethatthebetter.”
“Idon’tthinkso.Ididaprettygood—”
“No,youdidn’t.Youkissedhereventhoughyoudidn’tmeanto.Why?Becauseshehasthepower.Becauseyoutookonelookatthatprettyfaceandyoucrumbledtotheflooratherfeet.Andyoualwayswill,becauseyou’llputherbeforeanyoneandeverythingelse.”
Well,that’skindascary.Hockey’smynumberone.OrIguessmyfamilyis,andhockey’sarealclosesecond.Still,couldOliviabeasimportant?Couldsheovertakehockey?
That’sastupidquestion.Shealreadyhas.It’sevidentinthewaylosingherbeforeIreallyhadherfuckedwithmygame.Andthat’sscarybecauseweweren’teventogetheratthatpoint.Therewasnous,onlyablatantlackofus
“WhendoIgettomeetthespeciallady?”
“IfIwanttokeepheraround?”Iswipemyryetoastthroughmyeggyolkandpopitinmymouth.“Never.”
Hechuckles,tossingaballed-upnapkinatme.“Sonofabitch.”
HankandIheadoutforawalkbeforeItakehimhome,andIhelphimsettleinhisLa-Z-Boy.Dublintuckshimselfintohisdad’ssidewhileIgetHanksetupwithhisaudiobooks.Heloveslisteningtosmuttyromances.Hesaysit’stheonlyactionhegetsanymore.
“Havefunonyourdate,Carter.Don’tdoanythingIwouldn’tdo.”
Ilookdownatthecoverofthebookthat’sdisplayedonthetabletIgothimtwoyearsagoforhisbirthday.FiftyShadesDarker.“Idon’tthinkweneedtoworryaboutthat.”
Hishandsearchesformine,andwhenItakeit,hesqueezes.“Loveyou.”
“Loveyou,too,youdirtyoldman.”
***
I’mnotanxious;I’mincontrol.There’sadifference.
IfIwereanxious,wouldIhavegottenheretwentyminutesearlyandstayedinthecar?Maybe.
IfIwereanxious,wouldIjustbestaringupatOlivia’shouse?Alsomaybe.
It’snotasifIdon’tknowhowtogoonadate.It’snotlikeIhaveveryrealfeelingsforherthatscarethelivingshitoutofme.IfIwereanxious,wouldI—okay,I’mfuckinganxious.Igetit.Butit’snotabigdeal.Everyonefeelsthiswaybeforetheirfirstdate,right?Whetherthey’resixteenornearlytwenty-eight.
Right?Right.
There’sastartledhalfscreamfrominsidethesmallhousewhenIfinallyringthedoorbell.
“Shit.Fuckme.He’searly.I’mnotready.”
Iglanceatmywatch.I’moneminuteandthirty-twosecondsearly.AndasImentioned,I’veactuallybeenherefortwentyminutes,sittinginmycar.Igotoutthreetimes,madeitupthefrontsteps,andthenturnedaroundandhightaileditbacktothecar.
Butitwasn’tbecauseIwasanxious
Oliviastillhasn’tanswered,butsheobviouslyknowsI’mhere,soIringthebellagain,threetimesinquicksuccession,grinningatthecursesflyingfromhermouthasherfootstepsstompcloser.
Thedoorswingsopen,revealingOliviainallherglory.
Inherpajamas.
She’swearinganoversizedUniversityofBCteewithaholeonthesideofherwaist,andapairofstripedlongjohnsthataresolongforhertheycompletelycoverherfeet,exceptforhertinypinktoes.Inherdefense,whenIcalledthismorning,Ididtellhertodresscasually.
“ThisisslightlymorecasualthanIwasgoingfor,butwecanmakeitwork.”Ishakethelittlebitofsnowoffmytoqueandstepinside.“You’rerockingthewholeI-woke-up-like-thisvibe.”Flashingagrinandawink,Ileanclose.“Kindamakesmewannatakeyoubacktobed.”
IneverknowwhatI’mgoingtogetwithOlivia,andIthinkthat’soneofthethingsIlikeabouther.Sometimesshe’squickwiththesassycomebacks,andsometimes,likerightnow,shejuststaresupatmewhileherfacefloodswithheat.
Andshe’sstillnottalking.
IthoughtIwasnervous?Psssh.I’vegotnothingonOlivia.
“OhmyGod,”shewhispers.“Ihaven’tsaidawordyet,haveI?”
“You’rejustkindofstaringatme,”Iconfirm.
Sheburiesherfaceinherhands.“I’mafuckingmessthismorning.”
Chuckling,Ihaulherintomyarms,hugginghertightly.“That’sokay.Itmakesmefeelbetteraboutthefactthatittookmefourtriestoactuallyknockonyourdoor.”
“Ithoughtyouwereincontrol.”
“CanItellyouthetruth?”Hookingafingerbeneathherchin,Itiltherfaceup.“I’veneverfeltsofuckingpowerless.That’swhyI’mgonnakissyounowinsteadofwaitinguntiltheendofourdatelikeIpromisedmyselfIwould,okay?”
Thecornerofhermouthtugsup,andIbendmyneck,touchingmylipstohers.It’stentativeatfirst,aslowexploration,testingtheboundaries.Butthenherlipspartonasigh,lettingmeinforataste,andherfistgripsmycoattokeepherupright.
“Ol,”Iwhisperagainstherlips.
“Mmm.”
“Gogetdressed.”
Anunimpressednoiserumblesinherthroat,andIwatchherassbounceinthosethinpantsasshestrutsdownthehallway,disappearingbehindadoor.
Itakeinthesmallentryway,smilingatthelanyardIgaveherforChristmasthat’shangingbesidehercoat.She’sgottwokeysattachedtoitandanIDbadge,andItraceOlivia’sbrightbeam.
I’mkindanosy,soIopenthehallwayclosetandampleasantlysurprisedtofindherhockeyskatesexactlywhereIhopedthey’dbe.Mythumbglidesovertheblade,pleasedtofindthemsharp.Iquietlyslipoutthedoorandtucktheminmytrunk,allbeforeshefinishesgettingready.
Ipeelmycoatoffandwanderintothelivingroom,tryingtoignorethebitingchillintheairasItakeaseatonthecouch.There’sastackofromancenovelsthatwouldlikelypiqueHank’sinterestononesideofthecoffeetable,apileofpapersthatappeartobegradedtestsonthefemalereproductivesystemontheother,andthepenthatrestsontophasperfectteethmarksengravedinit.
Pickinguptheframeonthesidetable,IexaminethepictureinsidethatIthinkisfromthispastChristmas,judgingbythetreeinthebackground.Olivia’sgotasmilingbabyinherarms—terrifying—andthatsmallbrown-hairedgirlfromCara’spicturegluedtoherside.I’mnotsureifI’veeverseenherlooksoutterlyhappyasshedoesinthispicture.
“That’smynieceandmynephew,”Oliviatellsmefromthedoorway.“AlannahandJem.”
ThiswomanbeforemeissoeffortlesslygorgeousIdon’tknowwhattodowithmyself.Dressedinapairofleggingsandanoversizedcreamknitsweaterthathangsslightlyoffoneshoulder,she’sutterperfectioninmyeyes.
Shefiddleswithherhands.“I’msorryit’ssomessyinhere.”
There’satimidnessinhervoicethat’sdifferentfromalltheothertimesshelikestogetalittlequietwithme.Avulnerabilitythatletsmeknowshe’sreadytostartlettingmein,andIhaveafeelingthatI’mabouttoseesomepiecesofherI’veneverseen.Whatdoesn’tsitrightwithmeisthatsheseemsworriedthatImightnotlikeallofheronceIknowher.
Ipatthecushionbesideme.“Comehere.”
“Okay,”shewhispers,butherfeetremainrootedfirmlyinplace.
“Onefootinfrontoftheother,”Itease.
Hergrinisbroadandbeautiful,goofy.Sheslapsahandtoherforeheadbeforesheamblesonover,andassoonasshe’swithinreach,Ipullherdowntome.
“IknowwetalkedonFridaynight,butIthinkweshouldaireverythingoutsowecanstartfreshandkeeponwiththoseexplosivekisses,yeah?”
Igiveherhandasqueezewhenshedoesn’tanswer.“Ollie?”
Sheblinks,jolting.“Oh!OhmyGod!Iansweredinmyhead.Yes,Iwannakissyou.Ohcrap.”Hereyeswidenandshejerksherhandsback.“Imean,Iwantyoutokissme.No!”Shegripsherownface.“Talk!Iwanttotalk!Ohfuck.Thisisawful.”
“You’refuckingadorablewhenyou’renervous.”Ituckaloosespiralbehindherear.“Ijustneedtoknowhowyou’refeeling.”
“I’mscared,”sheadmits.“ScaredthatyourfeelingsaretemporarywhenIknowminearen’t.”
“Ispentnearlytwoweekstryingtoconvincemyselftheyweretemporary,toletgoofthemandletgoofyouafteryouwalkedout.Itdidn’twork.Ithinktheygotstrongersomehow,andthatwasreallyconfusingforme,especiallywhenIthoughtyouwereonadate.Ididn’tknowwhyitwassoeasyforyoutomoveon,butimpossibleforme.”
“ItwasjustAlannah,”sheassuresme.“Myniece.Shespendstheweekendheresometimesandwegoonallthesedates,likeoutforlunchandtothemovies.”
“Caratoldme.IfI’djustasked…”Iscratchthebackofmyhead,heatrushingtomyears.“AreyoumadatmeforwhatIdid?”
Oliviacoversmyhandwithhers.“No,Carter.Iknowyoudidn’tdoanything,thatyouwerehurtingandyouweretryingtofixit.”
“Iwassodisappointedinmyself.”Adullachethudsinmychest,leavingmeexposed.“Justforthinkingaboutit,forconsideringitforevenaminute.Ididn’tknowhowtohandlewhatIwasfeeling.Everythingissonew.”
“Soundslikewebothneedtobealittlemorepatientwithourselves.”
Iwatchourfingerstangletogether.“Iwanttodateyou,Ollie.IwanttotakeyoufordinnerandgoseeDisneymoviesanddedicatemygoalstoyouwithoutfeelingbadaboutit.Iwantustogivethisarealshot.”
Hergazeissteady,assessing.“That’sabigchangeforyou.”
“OneI’mreadytomakeifit’smeandyou.”
Whiteteethgrazeherpinklip.“I’mkindofanall-intypeofperson,Carter,whichmeansthatIhavetobeabletoenvisionafuturewithsomeonebeforeIdecidetotakethenextstep.It’swhyagenuineconnectionissoimportanttome,andIfeellikeIhavethatwithyou.Soifthatscaresyou…Ijustwantyoutoknow.”
Ithinkaboutthelanyardhangingbyherfrontdoor.IwentshoppingonChristmasEve,thedayafterthefundraiser,becauseIknewIwantedtogethersomething.Butbeyondthegift,itwasthewordsIwrotethatmeantthemosttome.Iwaslookingforwardtothenewyear,becauseIwaslookingforwardtoayearwithherinmylife.
“I’mallin,aslongasit’syouI’mallinwith.”Mylipsmeetherswithagentle,sweepingkiss,andwhenshesighs,Ibreakaway,hugginghertome.“Areyoustillscared?”
Shetrailsonefingeralongmycollarbone.“Yes.”
“Whatareyoumostafraidof?”
“Falling,”sheanswersquietlyandwithouthesitation.
Mythumbskatesacrossherlowerlip.“I’llcatchyou.”
“Promise?”
Bringinghertome,IsearherwithakissthatfeelseverybitlikeafutureIneverknewIwanted.
“Promise.”CHAPTER23COCKBLOCKEDOLIVIA
I’msurecountlesswomenwouldlovetobeontheotherendofCarterBeckett’sundividedattention,butI’dbelyingifIsaiditwasn’talittleintimidatingwithoutthatshotofboozyconfidenceInormallyhavewhenwe’retogether.
ItwaseasyonFridaywhenhewasahotmess,butIthinkI’mthehotmesstoday.
Also,he’swatchingeverysinglebiteoffoodIputinmymouth,whichiskindofuncomfortable.
“Uh,excuseme.”
Carter’seyesflickovermyshoulderattheinterruption.Iglanceoverittofindagroupofcollegeboysstandingtherefumblingwiththeirphones.
“Canwegetapicture?”
Thisisthefourthgrouptoask.Carter’sresponsehasbeenthesameeverytime.
“Absolutely.I’mhavinglunchwithmygirlrightnow,soI’llcatchyouonthewayout.”Hefinisheswithawinkandcoversmyhandwithhis.Thehand-coveringisnew.Isuspectit’sbecausethey’reyoungenoughthatCarterfeelstheneedtoclaimme,whichisridiculous.Theywanthim,notme.
Also,I’mstillreelingoverthemygirl.Fourtimeshe’ssaiditandfourtimesmyhearthasfree-fallenfrommychestandsettledbetweenmythighs.Ifthismandoesn’tgetinsidemeatsomepointtoday,I’mgoingtoimplode.I’mhalfwaythroughmymealwhichmeansourdateisalmostover.Theimpendingimplosionisstartingtoseemfairlylikely.
ItrynottoblushastheboyswalkawaymurmuringaboutCarterBecketthavingagirlfriend.I’mnothisgirlfriend.We’re…dating.Andifitgoeswell,maybewe’llputanofficiallabelonitsoon.Nopressure,though.Noneatall.Ifhewants,orwhatever.
“Stopblushing,”Cartermumblesaroundthelastbiteofhisgiantburger.Heshovelsaforkfulofpoutineintohismouthbeforepointinghisforkatme.“Andwhateverconversationyou’rehavingwithyourselfinyourhead,cutitout.”
“Don’ttellmewhattodo.”
Hegrins,leaningforwardandcrookinghisfingeratme,andImeethiminthemiddlebecausethere’snostrongermagnetthanCarterBeckett.
“Ifyou’retryingtogetmeriledupsoI’lltakeyouhomeandfuckyou,it’snotgonnawork.”Hekissesmysurprisedpoutbeforesittingbackanddraininghisbeer.“Yougonnafinishthat?”Thepumpofhisbrowsisaimedatmyplate.
Itugmyplatecloser.“Youthinkyoucanteasemeandthenstealmyfood?Youhavenoideawhoyou’redealingwith,Beckett.”
Hehums,wipinghishandsoffonhisnapkinbeforetheydisappearbeneaththetable,andIyelpwhenhetugsmyfootintohislap.Hisfingersdoatorturouscoastuptheinsideofmythigh,andIstopbreathingwhenoneofthemrunsuptheseamofmyleggings.
Theremaybeatableclothhidinghisindecency,butthat’snotgoingtostopmefromhoofingthismaninthejunkifhetakesmeanyfurtherrightnow,especiallywhenhesoftlystrokesmeandwhispers,“Sowarmdownhere.”
Iwrigglefreeofhisholdandshovemyplateovertohim,tryingtoquelltheflutterinmybelly.ItdiesquicklywhenIspotthatirritatinglysexyandself-righteoussmirkashestartsdevouringtherestofmymeal.
Bythetimehe’sforceddessertdownmythroatandtakenpictureswitheveryoneintherestaurant,I’mthoroughlystuffedanduncomfortable,andmaybereadyforapostlunchnap.
Iplacetwopalmsovermystomachandgroanoncewestepoutside.“Mybellyhurts.”
Carterspinsmeintohim,onehandonmylowerbackashedipsme.“Guesswe’llhavetoworkoffallthatfood.”Hiswordsdissolveonmytonguelikesugar,andIhangontohimfordearlife.
“Olivia!”
Myeyescrankopenatmyname,andCarterhoistsmebackup,hisheadswiveling.
“Fuck.”Onelongarmsweepsout,tuckingmebehindhimasseveralcamerasareshovedinourfaces.
“ItisOlivia!She’sback!”
“Wherehasshebeen?”
“Carter!IsOliviayourgirlfriend?”
“Areyouofficiallyoffthemarket,Mr.Beckett?Nomorelate-nightrompsinthebunnypatch?”
“What’syourlastname,sweetheart?”
“Fuckoff.”Carter’sgrowlisawarningthatmakestheskinonthebackofmyneckpebble.“Youdon’tgetherlastname.Youdon’tgetshit.”Hisfingerslaceharshlythroughmineashetugsmeintohissideandstartstraipsingusdownthestreet,myfaceaimedattheground.
Thecamerasfollow,andwhenCarter’scarcomesintoview,Iscrambletowardit,trippingoverthecurb.HecatchesmearoundthewaistbeforeIcanface-plantontheasphalt,andmyfeetdon’ttouchthegroundashehaulsmetowardthepassengerside,stuffingmeinside.
CarterisinthefrontseatandhasusaroundthecornerbeforeIcancounttofive.Hepullsoverdownthestreetandturnstome,pullingmymittsoffmyhandsandbringingmyknucklestohislips.
“I’msosorry.Somebodymust’vepostedapictureattherestaurant.”Hetakesmyfacebetweenhishands,lookingmeoverasifImightbeinjured.I’mnot,I’mjust…embarrassed?Idon’tevenknow.“Areyouokay?”
Inod.“Idon’t…”Idon’tknowhowtosayitwithouthurtinghisfeelings.
“Youdon’twanttobeagirlinpictureswithCarterBeckett.”
“I’msorry.”
“Don’tbesorry,Ollie.Butitwillhappen.Aslongaswe’retogetherthere’sgoingtobepictures.There’sabrightsidetoitall,though.Nowthere’sphotographicevidencethatI’mdatingtheworld’shottestteacher.”
Isnortalaugh,onlybecauseheseemssosincere.
“Eventuallyit’llbeoldnews.Themorewearetogether,themoreboringI’llbetothem.Icanseeitnow.”Heswipesahandthroughtheairinanarc.“‘CarterBeckett,seenforthetenthnightinarowwithhot-as-hellhighschoolteacher.’”Hesqueezesmyhands.“Trustme,princess,it’llgetboringfast.”
Mynosescrunches.“I’mnotaprincess.”
Hehitsmewithawink,shiftingthecarbackintogear.“You’remyprincess.”
IrollmyeyestodistractfromthefactthatImightlikethatridiculousnickname.
“Whatareyoudoingfortherestoftheday?”It’smynot-so-subtlewayofaskingifourdateisover.
“You.I’mnottakingyouhomeuntilbedtime.”Hisplayfulgazeslidesmyway.“Thatokaywithyou,princess?”
Iliftalazyshoulder.“Iguess.”
Agrinignitesacrosshisface,butbeforehecancallmeoutonmybullshitindifference,ashrillringfillsthecar,andthescreenonthedashboardlightsupwiththenameHank
Carter’sbrowfurrowsbeforeheaccepts.“Hank?What’sup,buddy?Missmealready?”
“Carter.”PoorHanksoundsoldandpossiblyindistress.“Youstillonyourdate?”
“Justheadingtoourseconddestination.”Carterflashesmeadevilishsmileandwinksagain.“What’sgoingon?Youokay?”
Hanksighs.“I’msorry.Idon’tmeantointerruptyourdate.Hi,Olivia.”
“Hi,Hank,”Ipushoutafteramomentofstunnedsilence.Heknowsmyname.
“Carter,Itookalittletumblegettingoutoftheshower.”
“Shit.”Carterlooksoverhisshoulder,hitshisblinker,andturnsleftfromtheright-handlane.“Areyouhurt?”
“Idon’tthinkit’sanythingseriousbutI’mhavingsometroublegettinguponmyown.Couldyoumaybe—”
“Alreadyontheway.We’llbethereinten.”
WegetthereinsevenbecauseCarterdrivesashittonontheerraticside.Heentersthefive-flightapartmentbuildingwithakey,andonceweridetheelevatoruptothetopfloor,heusesanotherkeytoenterthesuite.
“Hank?”Carterdoesn’tbotherremovinghisshoesashestormsthroughthesmallapartment.Ifollowhim,crashingintohisbackwhenhecomestoasuddenstop.“Areyoufuckingkiddingme,oldman?”
Aman—Hank,Ipresume—withafullheadoffluffywhitehairandweatheredblueeyesgrinsupatusfromwhereheappearstobeentirelytoorelaxed,awholelotamused,andawfullyproudinhiseasychair,thecutestdogI’veeverseencurledupathisside.
“Trickedya.You’retoodamngullible.”Hankrightsthechair,carefullyclimbingtohisfeet.Thegoldenretrieverjumpsdowntohisside,andHankreachesforalongstickwithonehand,holdingtheotherouttowardCarter,whostepsforwardandtakesitinhisown,butnotbeforegivingthemanaplayfulpunchtotheshoulder.It’satthismomentIrealizethatHankisvisuallyimpaired.
“WantedtomeetthebeautifulMissOliviabeforeyouhaveachancetomessitallupandscareheraway.”
“Yourconfidenceinmeisinspiring.”Carterrollshiseyes,leadingHankovertome.“Ihopedtoholdoffonintroducingyoutohim,Ollie.Ididn’twantyoutoknowIkeepsuchterriblecompany.ButHanklikestodowhateverthehellhewants.”
Iarchabrow.“LikesomeoneelseIknow.”
“Ha!Ilikeheralready!”HankelbowsCarter’shandsawayandreachesforward.Islipmyhandsintohisandhesqueezes,steppingintome.“Ihadtomeetthegirlwho’smademyfriendhereamiserabledudforafewweekswhileshekepthimonhistoes,madehimworkforit.”
“I’mhappytomeetyou,Hank.ThishasturnedintothebestdateI’veeverhad.”
“Becauseofme?”heaskswithamegawattgrinwhileCartergrumbles.
“Whyelse?”Thedogathisfeetwhines,staringupatmewithmeltychocolateeyes.“MayIpetyourdog,orisheworking?”
Hankwavesmeoff.“Dublin’sneverreallyworking.Laziestguidedogyou’veevermet.Goahead,Dubs.Getyourkisses.”
Dublindropstomyfeet,rollingaround,thatpinkbellybeggingforrubs,andIsinktomybuttsoIcangivehimalltheloving.
“Dublin?LikeIreland?”
“Yeah,”Hanksayswithawistfulsmile,runninghishanddownhischest.“Remindsmeofmysweetheart.”
Carterhandsmeaframewithablackandwhiteweddingpicture.Thebrideandgroomcouldn’tbemoreinlove,thatmuchisobviousbythewaythey’relaughing,thelaughlinesaroundtheireyes.Heplopsanotherphotoinmylap,thisonecolored.IrecognizeHank’sface,hisfluffyhair,thoughitwaslightbrownbackthen.
CartertapsonthebeautifulredheadtuckedintoHank’ssideinthephotograph.“ThisisHank’shighschoolsweetheart.”
“Ireland?”
Hanknodsproudly,eyesmisty.“Beautiful,ain’tshe?Shesavedmylife.”
“Andmine.”Carter’shandsareinhispocketashetoesatthefloorwithhisshoe.Hegivesmeasheepishsmile,oneI’mnotusedtoseeingonthisman,andIhopeonedayhe’llfeelsafeenoughtosharehisstorywithme.
ItrailafingertipdownIreland’slong,gingerwaves.“She’sgotthemostgorgeoussmile.”
“Iremembertheexactshapeofherlips,andthetinydimpleshehadjustofftotherightofhermouth.”Hetouchesthespotonhisownface,thenclapshishandsandshakeshishead.“CanIfeelyourface,Olivia?”
“No,no,no.”Cartershakeshishead.“Don’tfallforit,Ollie.Idid,andwhenhewasdone,hetoldmeitwasallbullshit.JustwantedtoseehowgullibleIwas,which,asitturnsout,isvery.”
“You’renofun,”HankgrumblesasCarterhelpsmeofftheground,andthendirectsHankdownbesidemeonthecouch.“It’sfinethough,becauseIalreadyknowyou’refivefootone,havetinyfrecklesonyournose,browneyesthecolorofchocolate,andtinyhandsthatfitperfectlyinhis,alwayswarm.”
Carter’scheeksburnbright.He’ssocuteithurts.
Hank’sfingersfindmybraid,twirlingtheendofit.HetwiststoCarter.“Whatcolor?Describeittome.”
Carter’semeraldeyesshineswithasoftsmileashedrinksmein.“Darkbrown,likerich,smoothcoffee.Thekindthatwakesyouthehellup,thatyoucraveinthemorningandalldaylong.”Hisgazedriftsdownmyfacebeforecoastingtoaloosecurlthatbrushesmycheek,andeventuallylingeringonmylips.“Withalittlebitofcarameldrizzlethatleavesyoulickingyourlips,beggingforanothertaste.”
Ohcrap.I’mhorny.Myladybitsaretingling.
“Hmm.Gooddescription.”Hanklaysmybraidbackovermyshoulder.“Smellslikebananabread.”
“Right?”Carterthrowshisarmsoutinfrontofhim.“Thankyou!”
“Well,canyousqueezesometimewiththisoldmanintoyourdate?Imadesnacks.”HegesturestothecoffeetablewhereabowlofDoritosandaplatterofOreossit.IlikeHank.
Cartercheckshiswatch.“Well,we’realreadytoolatetomakethemovie.”
“Movie?”Iquestion.“WewatcheditonFriday.”
Thegrinhewearshasmyheatcrawlingupmyneck.“Trustme,gorgeous;weweren’tgonnawatchitthistime.”
“A-ha!”HankclapsahandtoCarter’sknee.“That’smyboy!”Hesinksbackagainstthecushions,throwinghisarmsaroundourshoulders.“Guessyou’restuckwithmethisafternoon.I’veneverbeenacockblockuntilnow.”
“Don’tgetusedtoit,”CartermumblesaroundtheOreohe’slickingtheicingoff.Howhe’smanagingtoshovemorefoodintohismouthrightnowisbeyondme.IstillfeellikeI’mgoingtoexplode.“Neveragainwillyougetinthewayofmycockandmywoman.”
Mywoman.Mywoman.I’mdyinghere.I’minwithdrawalandtheonlyfixisthesix-foot-fourwallofripplingmusclesontheotherendofthecouch.
Carter’ssmugsmirksaysheknowsexactlywhatI’mthinking.“Isn’tthatright,princess?”
Quitefrankly,I’veneverheardanythingmoreaccurate.Insteadofsayingthatthough,Icrossmyarmsandfliphimthebird.CHAPTER24MYPANTSHAVELEFTTHEBUILDINGCARTER
BythetimeweleaveHank’s,thesunisalreadybeginningtodipintothehorizon.I’mtypicallysomeonewholoveswinter—presentyearexcluded;thisshitistoocoldforme—becausehockeyhasalwaysbeenmylife,butIhatetheshorterdays,thefleetinghoursofdaylight.IalwaysfeellikeI’mrushingtogetthingsdonebeforethesungoesdown,likerightnow.
Hankwouldhavekeptusallday,andI’mprettysureOliviawouldhavehappilyobligedhim,butwe’vegotonemorepitstoponourdatethatdependsondaylightbeforeweheadbacktomyhousefordinnerandcuddles.
Potentiallynakedcuddles.Ihaven’tdecidedyet.I’dprefernaked,ofcourse,andI’mbeginningtorealizethatslowisn’tawordinourvocabulary,butsexissomethingIcanholdoffonifshe’snotready,andIwanttomakesuresheis.
“When’sthelasttimeyouskated?”
“Yesterday,”sheanswersdistractedly.
We’renotfarfrommyplace,andshe’sgotherfacenearlypressedagainstthewindowasshestaresoutatCapilanoLake.It’sbreathtakinginthewinter.Andinthesummertoo.Allthetime,really.
Oliviamanagestopullhergazeaway.“IcoachAlannah’shockeyteam.”
WhenIaccidentallyslamonthebrakes,IbracketmyarmacrossOlivia’schest,stoppingherforwardjolt.“Sorry,sorry.Ijust—youjust—fuck.Wow.”
She’smyperfectwoman.
Herbrowspinchwithherquizzicalsmile.“What?”
“IthinkImightloveyou,”Ijoke,exceptI’mpossibly,maybe,halfwayserious.“That’samazing.CanIcomeseeagame?”
“Absolutelynot.”
“Whythehellnot?”
“Becauseallyou’lldoisdistractthegirlsandthemoms.”
“Hmm.Thisfaceishighlydistracting,you’reright.Don’tgetmestartedonthisbody.”
God,Ilovewhensherollshereyes.Sotinyandferocious.“You’resoridiculouslyfullofyourselfit’sinsane,Beckett.”
Thetipofmyfingerdancesupherthigh.“Youcanbefullofmetooifyouplayyourcardsright.
Shelaughsandshovesmyhandoffherthigh,onlytotwineherfingerswithmineandsetthembackinherlap,becauseshelikeswhenItouchherasmuchasIlikedoingit.“Whothehellraisedyou?”
“MamaBeckettwouldtakeoffensetothat,Olivia.”Shewouldn’t.She’dburyherfaceinherhands,apologizeprofusely,andtellmetokeepmyfilthymouthshut.
Whichremindsme,Mom’sgonnahaveafielddaywhenthosepicturesofOliviaandmeatlunchhitthenewstomorrow.ImakeamentalnotetopretendlikeIhavenoideawhatshe’stalkingaboutwhensheinevitablycallsmeaboutit,justtogrindhergears.DadwouldbedisappointedinmeifIdidn’t
IthrowthecarintoparkattheheadofthelakeandtugOliviaovertoabenchoverlookingthelake.It’scoveredinathicklayerofglass-likeice,theslowlysinkingsunmakingitdazzlelikecrystal.Thesnow-dustedpinesshineinthesleekreflection,andeverythingiswhite,powderblue,anddeepforestgreen.
Olivia’ssoenthralledshedoesn’tnoticemedisappearbacktothecar,andwhenIstopinfrontofher,hergazefallstothepairsofhockeyskatesinmyhands,andabrightbeamshattersherface.“We’regoingskating?Here?”
“Yougotit,princess.Yousaidyougrewupdoingthisbackhome,soIfiguredthismightbeanicewaytobringabitofhometoyou.”
Hereyesshinewithgratitude.“Thankyou,Carter.Thisis,handsdown,thebestdateever.”
Mychestpuffswithpride.“KnewI’dkillmyfirstdate.”
“Firstdateever?Highschoolcounts,Carter.”
“Ididn’thavetimefordatinginhighschool.Iwastoofocusedontraining.”
Probablycouldhavemadetime,butIhavenoregrets.IfIhad,ImightbestuckinamiserablerelationshiplikeAdamisrightnow.HimandCourtneyhavebeentogethersincetheywereseventeen,andweallseehowwellthat’splayingoutyearslater.Nofuckingthanks.Plus,myragingteenagehormones,insanelygoodlooks,andcharismaticconfidence—whichsomelabelarrogance—gotmethroughhighschooljustfinewithoutasteadygirlfriend.
Withourskateson,IhelpOliviadowntotheiceandwatchasshetakesitallin,speechless.
MostareasofVancouverdon’ttypicallygetcoldenoughforlargebodiesofwatertofreezeoversocompletely,butthiswinterisanexception.Rightnow,asOliviatwirlsslowly,gazingwithwonderoutatallthislittlesliceofheavenhastooffer,Icouldn’tbemoregratefulforthecold.
“I’veneverseensomethingsobeautiful,”Oliviawhispers.Thesmileshewearsissodazzling,ithitsmerightinthestomachlikeasuckerpunch.
“Yeah.Meneither.”
Herlashesflutterasshetakesherbottomlipbetweenherteeth.“Whodoyouthinkisabetterskater,meoryou?”
“Hundredpercentme.I’mwayfaster.”
“Isaidbetter,notfaster.”Sheskatesawayfromme,leaningforwardononefootbeforeshejumpsintheair,spins,andlandsonherfeet.Shesendsupasprayofsnowwhenshestopsinfrontofme.“HockeyontheweekendsandfigureskatingduringtheweekuntilIwasten.”
“I’lltakeyourasstotheground,Parker.”
There’sahappythumpinmychestwhenOliviathrowsherarmsaroundmyneck.She’sfinallygivenupthatshynessfromearliertoday.Iloveseeingherlikethis,herwallscomingdown,hersimply…beingherself,withme.Me,beingmyselfwithher.It’seasy.
“Youthinkso,eh?”
“Iknowso.Wannarace?”
“Noway.Yourlegsare,like,threetimesthelengthofmine.It’sanunfairadvantage.”
Iskatetowardher,lovingthewayherhipsswingwitheverybackwardstride.“AfraidI’llwin?”
“Icouldskatecirclesaroundyou,Mr.Beckett.”
Iinclinemyheadtowardthesmallgreenboathousethatsitsinthemiddleofthelake,connectedfromoneshoretothenextbyanarrowwoodendock.“Firstonethereandback.”
Herfingerscrawlupmychest.“WhenIwin,willyourubmyfeet?They’regonnabesorefromkickingyourass.”
Thetipofmynosegrazesherfreezingone.“Soarrogant.”
“Guessyou’rerubbingoffonme.”
“Oh,I’llfuckingruboffonyou.”IcatchOlivia’swaistasshetriestospinawayfromme,haulingherrightbackin.“Wegonnadothisorwhat,pip-squeak?”
“Definitely.”Shedrawsmeintoher,touchingherlipstothecornerofmymouth.“Butthere’ssomethingIwanttodobeforeIhumiliateyou.”
Idon’thavetimetoaskwhatthatisbeforehermouthopensonmine.Hot,wettonguelashes,nippingteethandbruisinggrips,thiskissisnothingbutstarved.I’mabouttotossmyridiculousideaofanythingotherthannakedcuddlesoutthewindowwhenshestartstuggingonmyzipper.
“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoingthere,MissParker?”Iraspout.Mycockrocketstomaximumstrainthesecondherhandwrapsarounditthroughmyboxers.“Fuck.”
“Can’tagirlputherhandsonherman?”
“Yup.Yeah.That’s…fuck…cool.Hands.”Myheadwhipsbetweenthetreesandmycar.DoIwannapushherupagainstatreeandfuckher,orwatchhersliparoundontheleatherseatsinthebackoftheBenz?Treeismoreaccessible.Doweneedtotakeourskatesoff?No,IthinkIcanmakeitwork.I’vegotthighsofsteel.
“Carter?”
“Yeah,baby?”
Softlipstouchmychin.“You’regonnalose.”
“What?”Inearlycrywhenherhanddisappears.“Whatthehellareyou—Olivia!”
Herpiercingcackleechoesaroundthelakeasshetakesofflikelightning,herbladeszippingalongwithher.I’mtoostunnedtocarewhenmyjeansstartslippingovermyass,andI’mproudtosaythatbythetimeOliviareachestheboathouseandstartsflyingbacktowardme,mypantsarearoundmyankles
Becausethatgirlcanfuckingskate
She’sstilllaughinglikeahyenawhenshejumpsintomyarmsandcrashesherlipsagainstmine.“Readytorubmyfeet?”
I’mreadytorubsomething,that’sforfuckingsure.
***
There’sawarmbodytuckedintominethatremindsmeIdon’twantthisnighttoend,thatthere’snopartofmethatwantstoclimbonaplaneinthemorningandleaveforthreedays.
Theflawlessbeautysprawledoutinmylapisdeckedoutinmyclothes,headtotoe.MyVipershoodie,apairofsweatsthatswallowherlegs,evenapairofmythicksockscoveringherfeetaswecurluponmybalcony,nexttotheroaringfire,OliviawithacupoftheteaIranouttobuythismorningsoshecanhaveitwhenevershe’shere.
Everyminuteofthisdayhasbeenperfect,fromOlivia’shandinmineasweskatedacrossthelake,tothewayshestoodbymysideatthestove,dippingherfingerintothesauceIwasstirringbeforedinner,humminghappilyasshesuckeditoff.Thatoneaccidentallyendedwithheronthecounterandmytonguedownherthroat.She’sstillclaimingthewholethingwaspurelyinnocent,thatshewassimplytastingthesauce,butI’mnotbuyingit.
Ipulltheelasticfromherbraidandrunmyfingersthroughhersilkyhair.“Hankdidn’tscareyouofftoday,didhe?”
“Ifanything,hemadeyoutentimesmoreappealing.Thatguyreallyampsupyourcoolfactor.HissmutcollectionisthemostimpressivethingI’veeverseen.”
Right.Myeighty-three-year-oldbestfriendandmy…Olivia…mighthavestartedanimpromptubookclubtoday.They’restartingwithsomebookcalledFollowMeDarklyorsomething.Ihavenodesiretogettangledupinthat,exceptapparentlyblindfoldsareinvolved,so,like,maybe.
Butstill:“Myswordofthunderisthemostimpressivethingyou’veeverseen.”
Shetipsherheadback,widegazelockingonmineassilencehangsbetweenus.Thenshelaughsinmyface.“Youdonotcallyourdickyourswordofthunder.”
“Iabsolutelycallmydickmyswordofthunder.Youknowwhy,Ollie?’Causehebringsthethunder.”Itakeherchininmyhand.“Idon’tappreciateyourlaughterrightnow.”
Foldingherlipsintohermouth,shepretendstolockthemandthrowawaythekey.
Chuckling,Iwrapmyarmsaroundher,holdingheralittletighterasIgazeoutatthemountains,thestarsthatpaintthesky.“I’mhappyyoulikedhim.He’soneofmybestfriends.”
“Icantell.Youtwoseemreallyclose.Haveyouknownhimyourwholelife?”
“Alittleoversevenyears,”Imurmur.“Hesavedmylife.”ThewordsareoutofmymouthbeforeIcanstopthem,andI’mnotsurewhethertostopwhileI’maheadorkeepgoing.ThehandfulofpeoplewhoknowhowHankcametobeinmylifeisrestrictedtomyfamily,mybestfriends.
“Yousaidthatearlier,thathiswifedid.”
Becauseshedid.ImayhavenevermetIreland,butshesavedmylifethedayHankfoundme,andthereisn’tasinglepieceofmethatwilleverthinkotherwise.
“Youdon’thavetotellme,Carter.You’reallowedtohaveboundaries,andit’sokayifthisisoneofthem.”
ButwhatifIdon’twanttohaveanyboundaries?WhatifIwanttoshowherallofme?
“ThedayImetHank,mydadwasinacaraccident.Itwasbarelyfiveinthemorning,andthedriverwasstilldrunkfromthenightbefore.”Mythroatconstrictsassomethingheavysettlesdeepinmychest.“Hediedonimpact.”
Oliviasitsup,layinghercheekonmychestandherhandovermyheart,andanyapprehensionIhaveaboutgivingherthispieceofmemeltsaway.IfIwanthertoknowme,well,thisismaybethemostimportantpieceofmypuzzle.
“IwassupposedtoplayinCalgarythefollowingnight.Mydadwasdrivingdowntowatchbecauseitwasmyfirstgameasanassistantcaptain.Iofferedtoflyhimoutbuthesaidhewantedtotakethescenicroute.Ishould’ve…Ishould’vemadehim.”
Oliviapressesakisstomypalm.“It’snotyourfault,Carter.”
“Iknowthat,butit’shardnottothinkthatwaysometimes.Especiallythatday.”Theonlypersontoeverblamemeformydad’sdeathisme.It’saheavyweighttocarryaroundonyourshoulders,eventhoughI’mnottheonewhochosetogetbehindthewheelafterdrinkingallnightlong.Hell,I’veseenthestruggleinmyownsister’seyes,wonderingifourdadwouldstillbehere,ifhe’donedaybeabletowalkherdowntheaisleifitweren’tformeplayinghockey.
“Itwasafterelevenwhenmymom’sbodyfinallygaveupthefight.Icarriedhertobedandsatwithmysisterasshecriedherselftosleep.AndthenI…Iwentout.Bymyself.Ididn’twanttheresponsibilityoftakingcareofthemwhenIdidn’tknowhowI’devenbeabletotakecareofmyself.Hankwasthere.Keptcrackingfuckingblindjokes.ItriedtoignorehimbuthekeptthrowingpeanutshellsatmeeverytimeIstartedtodozeoff.”Irunanagitatedhandthroughmyhair.“Iwasjustfucking…”
“Heartbroken,”Oliviawhispers.
“Yeah.”MyvoicecracksasIhughertighter.“Justaheartbrokenmess.Ididn’tthinkhehadanycluewhoIwas.Hecouldn’tsee,afterall.AndthenImadethestupidestdecisionI’veevermade.Istoodupandgrabbedmycarkeys.”
AjaggedinhalepiercestheairasatearrollsdownOlivia’scheek.Shequicklyswipesitaway.
“Hankslappedhiscaneagainstmykneesofastbeforehestabbedtheendofitintomystomach.Irememberexactlywhathesaidtomenext.”
Ithinkbacktothatmoment,theonethatsavedmylife,andmaybemanymore.Irememberthoselightblueeyesmovingoverme,thefurythatI’veonlyseenHankwearthatonetimeasheslippedoffhisstool,hishandsmovingslowlyovermychestuntilhefoundtheneckofmyshirtandgrippedit.
“‘Iknowyou’renotabouttodrive,Mr.Beckett,’hesaid.‘You’vehadwaytoomuchtodrinkandhavetoomuchtolose.Therearepeopleherewhodependonyou.Don’tmakeastupiddecisionthatyou’llregrettherestofyourlife,ifyouevenlivetoseeit,justbecauseyou’rehurtingrightnow.’”
SilenttearsstreamdownOlivia’sfaceassheturns,fingerspressingintomyjawasshepressesthesoftestkisstomylips.
“Hankdoesn’tevendrink.ThatdaywastheseventhanniversaryofIreland’sdeath.Hewassittingthereatmidnightdrinkingaglassofchocolatemilkbecausehe’dhadadreamduringhisafternoonnapandclaimedthathisdeadwifesaidsomebodymightneedhishelp.He’dbeensittingtheresincesixintheevening,waiting.SaidheknewitwasmehewaswaitingforthesecondIsankdownonthebarstoolnexttohim.Iknowitsoundscrazy.”
Oliviadrawsinasniffle,hiccuppingagainstmychest.Ipullherfaceuptomineandsmileatthewayshetriestoslaphertearsaway.
“I’msorryforcrying.”Itcomesoutprettywail-y,soIdon’tthinkshe’sgoingtobeabletostopanytimesoon.Thefactthatthisisthesamegirlwhoslammedthedoorinmyfaceandtoldmetogofuckmyselfnotallthatlongagoismind-blowing.ShesureputsupagoodI-don’t-give-a-shitfront.ShewrapsherarmsaroundmeandburiesherfaceinmyneckwhileIsmoothmypalmdownherhair.“It’snotcrazy,andI’msothankfulforHankandIrelandandyou.”
“Me?”
Shenods.“ForlettingmeseetherealCarterBeckett.Forbeingthetypeofmanwhocarrieshismomtobed.Forhavingamaninhiseightieswholovesdirtybooksasoneofyourbestfriends.I’mgratefultobeherewithyou.”
I’malittlelostforwords,soItipherfaceuptomineforakiss.IfIattempttotalk,there’sagoodchancethatalotofwordsI’mnotreadytosayabouthowIfeelforheraregoingtumblefrommylips,whichisprettyfuckingridiculous,because,disregardingalltheweeksbefore,it’sbeenoneday.
There’snodenyingthatwhateverwe’vegotbetweenusfeelsright.Ihopeshefeelsit,too,becauseinthismomentI’macutelyawarethatthesefeelingsaregoingnowherefast.
Forthenexthour,westaybythefire,tradingstories,laughingquietlywhileshestretchesoutoppositeme,enjoyingthefootrubI’mgivingherthroughmysocks.ShekeepsjerkingherfootawayandgigglingeverytimeIhitacertainspotinherarch,soIpeelthethicksocksoffandthrowthemovermyshoulder,revealingherpinktoes.
“DoyouhaveafootfetishI’mnotawareof?”OliviaaskswhenIpressmylipstoherarch.
“No.”Mymouthdragsoverherankleasmypalmslipsbeneaththesweatpantsshewears,glidinguphercalf.“Ihaveayoufetish.AndI’mdyingtoseeifyourfeetare…”Inipherarch.“Ticklish.”
Oliviafliesoffthebackofthecouchandalmosthammersmeinthefacewithherfootwhenmyteethnibbleonhersensitiveskin.“Stopit!Carter!”
ButdoIstop?No,ofcoursenot.Iwrapmyhandaroundherankleandthetipsofmyfingersgototownonthatfootofherswhileshesquealsandthrashes.Idon’tstopuntilshe’sasweaty,redmessandtearsareleakingfromhereyes.
ShestrugglesagainstmeasIpullherintomychest.“You’resuchanass.”
“Yeah,butI’myourass.”Arustledrawsmyattentiondownbelow,andIdropmyvoice,nudginghercheek.Ipointoutattheclearingwhereamooseisemerging,eachstepslowandcautiousasitlooksaround.“Look.”
Oliviagasps,scramblingovermylaptogetabetterlook,grippingtherailing.“Ohmygosh.Itlookslikeayoungone.”
“Yeah.”Adarkshadowcatchesmyeye,andamuchlargermoosetakesafewstepsforward,rootingaroundinthesnow.“Andthere’sMama.”
“Soincredible,”Oliviamurmurswondrously.
“Likeyou.”
Sheturnstosmileatme.“Areyoutryingtocharmmenow,Mr.Beckett?”
“I’vebeentryingsinceImetyou.”
Sheslingsherarmsaroundmyneck,straddlingmyhips.“You’regettingprettygoodatit,asmuchasitpainsmetosay.”Shebrushesakissacrossmylips.“Muchbetterthan‘Iwannaputyouinthepenaltybox.’”
Isnortalaugh.“Stillcan’tbelievethatdidn’twork.ButIthinkifI’dhadfivemoreminutes—”
“Iwould’vepunchedyouintheface.Yes,you’reabsolutelyright.”
“Feistygirl.”Islipmyhandsbeneaththehoodieshewears,palmsslidingupherback,andthechillmakeshershiver.“Youlikeputtingupafight,andIlikeittoo.”Iflickmytongueoverthespotbelowherear.“Makesmewannaslapyourassandfuckyouuntilyouscream.
IthinkmyfavoritesoundisOlivia’swhimper.Ienjoythewayherskinwarmswiththesound,herbodybuzzingasmylipsmoveagainstherneck.Iripthecollarofmysweatertotheside,exposinghershouldertothecoldair,andcoveritwithmyhottongue.
“Carter.”There’sthatwhimperagain.Goddamn,Iloveit.
“Olivia.”Ipullthehoodieoverherhead,exposinghersoftcurves,thegeminherbellywhenhershirtunderneathridesup.It’sgettinglateandIhaveaflightinthemorning.IknowIneedtotakeherhomesoshecangetsomesleepbeforework,butIwon’tseeherforafewdaysandI’llbedamnedifI’mgoingtoleavethiscitywithoutalittletaste.
SoIkissherstomach,peelthosesweatpantsoffherlegs,wrapheraroundmybody,andcartherofftomybed.ShetriestopullmedownwithherwhenIsetherontheedge,butIshakemyheadanddroptomykneesonthefloor.
Shepropsherselfupandsinksherfingersthroughmyhair,herheadfallingbackwithamoanasmymouthcoastsuptheinsideofherthigh.There’salittlepoolofmoisturegatheredinthecenterofherpalepurplepantiesthatmakesmewanttoripthemrightoff.
SoIdo.IdestroythatscrapofsatinandburymyfacebetweenherlegslikeI’maferalanimalandshe’sthefirstmealI’vehadindays.Oliviacollapsesonthebed,legswindingaroundmyneckasshepushesmedeeperintoher,hipsarching,cryingoutformoreasIfuckherwithmytongue.
She’scomingapartattheseams,meltingintomymouthwitheveryflickandslideofmytongue,thewaymyteethgrazeherclit.Myfingerscrawlbeneathhershirt,findinghertautnipples,andwhenIgiveoneapinch,shegasps,archingoffthebed.Herlegsquiverassheyanksonmyhair,andIknowshe’sclose.
Istopwithoutwarning,standingandflippingherover,yankinghertoherhandsandknees,dragginghershirtupherbackandmyfingerdownherspine,watchinghershiver.Mypalmcurvesovertheswellofherperfect,fullass,andIdiptwofingersinsideher,draggingherwetnessthroughherslituntilIfindthecleftatthetop,swollenandbeggingforattention.
Bendingoverher,mylipsmeetherneck.“You’resowet,Ollie.DoyoulikewhenItouchyou?”
“Please,Carter.”
“Pleasewhat?”
Sheburiesherfaceinthemattress,hidingthesoundshemakes.Withmyfreehand,Iplowmyfingersthroughherhair,fistingitatthenapeofherneck,andIpullherbackup.
“Tellmeyouwantmetofuckyourpussywithmyfingers.”
Herspineripples,whetherfrommywordsortheslowcirclesI’mrubbingaroundherclit,I’mnotsure.Maybeboth.“Carter.”
“Sayit.”
Thehusheddemandhasherfingersgrippingthesheets,herbreathcominginheavyspurtsasIteaseherwiththetipofmyfingerbeforeIpullitback,andshewhimpers.
“Fuckmypussywithyourfingers.Please.”
Isinktwofingersinsideofherwithouthesitation,holdingherdownwhileIpumpinandout.Herassjutsbackward,slappingagainsttheheelofmypalmasshebegsformore,forharder,faster.
“That’smygirl.”
Fuck,she’sasighttobeseen,assintheairasshewrithesandmoans,fistingthesheetssohardshestartsdraggingthemrightoffthemattress.Shefeelslikevelvet,plushandsoft,sofuckingwarm,andwhenthosewallstightenaroundme,Islowmyroll,plungingatadeliberatelyleisurelypace,onethattakesallofthreesecondstodriveherinsane.
“Please,Carter,”shecries,pushingbackintomyhand.“Iwannacome.”
“Isthatright,gorgeous?”
“Ye-e-esss.”Thewordisagarbledmessassheshudders,bodyquaking.
“Youwannacome,”Iwhisperagainsttheshellofherear.“AndIwantyoutoearnit.”Ireleaseherhairandpullmyfingersfromhersoppingheat.
“What?”It’safrantic,desperatesnarl.Mybeautifulgirlisn’thappywithme.
Olivia’slipspartandsheswipesthehairoffherforeheadinslowmotionasshewatchesmelickherarousaloffmyfingers.Sheshiftsonthebedlikeshe’slookingforsomefriction.
Islapherass.“Getsomepantson.I’lltakeyouhome.”
Sheslipsoffthebedandfallstoherass.Ibarelymanagetobitebackmysnicker,ifonlybecausethelookshehitsmewithtellsmeshe’sabouttensecondsawayfrommurderingme,andI’mnotreadytodieyet.
I’mwaitingbythedoorwhenshecomesstormingdownthestairsinmysweatpantsandhoodiefiveminuteslater.
Sheshovesafingerinmyface.“WipethatarrogantsmirkoffyourfacebeforeIwipeitoffforyou.”
Christ,I’veneverworkedsohardnottolaughbefore.She’sgonnacutmyfuckingballsoff.
Ifollowhertothekitchen,watchingherpickallherthingsupfromtheislandandshovethemintoherpurse.“You’restillmad,huh?Butyoucan’tbe.I’mgoingawayforthreedays.You’regonnamissme.”
Shepinsmewithapatronizingsmile.“Andthat’stheonlyreasonyou’restillbreathingrightnow.”
Itearhercoatfromhergripthesecondshepullsitoutofthecloset,throwingitovermyshoulderwhileherjawsnapsshut,teethclacking.AngryOliviaismyfavoriteOlivia.
Myfingerscircleherwristsandpinthemtothewalloneithersideofherhead,lipsghostingoverthecolumnsofherthroat.“Youwantmetofuckyou?”
“Screwyou,”shetossesoutwithoutanyrealheat.Allthatheatisstackedinherdarkgaze.
“I’dloveto,”Iwhisper,watchingherneckeruptwithgoosebumpsattheproximityofmylips.“Allyouhavetodoispromisemeyou’llstillbemineinthemorning.”MyteethscrapeherlowerlipasIreleaseherwristsandpushherpantsdown.Idipmyhandbetweenherthighs.“Betteryet,tellmewhoownsthispussy.”
“I’mnotgoinganywhere,Carter.”Hertonguelashesagainstmine.“AndIownthispussy.”
“Thefuckyoudo.”Iunzipmypantsandpulloutmyhardcock,pressingitagainstthemostaddictingpussyintheworldasIhoistheruptome.“Tryagain,princess.”
Herhipsarchoffthewall,grindingagainstme.“Rightnow?Youdo.”
“That’sfuckingright.”Somethingcatchesinthebackofmythroat,andIlookdownatmycockasIswipetheheadthroughhersoakingslit.“Ihaven’tbeenwithanyonebutyou,Ollie.Iwon’t…It’sjustyouforme.Nobodyelse.”
There’sasilentquestioninthosestatements,andIwonderifshe’llhearit.
Shestrokesthesideofmyface.“There’snobodybutyou,Carter.”
Withawickedgrin,Islamheragainstthewallwithmyhipsandslapherhandsaboveherhead.“I’vegottwoweeksofpent-upsexualfrustrationthatI’mabouttounleashonyou.”Mylipstouchherear.“You’regonnahavemycumdrippingdownyourlegsforthenexttwelvehours,atleast,andthat’llbetheonlythingthatgetsmethroughthistripwithoutyou.”
OliviacriesoutwithunrestrainedpleasurewhenIdeliverthefirstpunishingplow,tearsmyshouldersapartwithhernailswhensheunravels,andIputanaccidentalfistthroughthedrywallwhenIcomeviolentlyinsideofher.
Oops.CHAPTER25AMIWALKINGFUNNY?OLIVIA
Doyoueverhavethedistinctfeelingthateverybodyaroundyouistalkingaboutyou?Likeyou’rethehottopicofconversation?Alleyesonyou?
That’showIfeeltoday.MaybeI’mbeingparanoid—aboutwhat,Idon’tknow—butthewhispersthathaltthesecondIlookintheirdirection,thegazesthatfollowmethroughthehallrightnowasIheadbackfromthestaffroomaftermyfirstbreakareprettytelling,andthere’sapitofuneasegrowinginsideme.
Imakeapitstopinthebathroomtocheckmyoutfitforthethirdtimethismorningincasethere’saholeoragiantstainIkeepmissingbutcomeupempty-handed.
“MissParker.”
Iswiveloutsidethebathroomdoor,smilingatthebiologyteacher/footballcoach.“Hey,Mr.Bailey.”Iswathishandawaywhenherufflesmyhair.Hethinksit’shilariousthatI’mfivefootoneandteachhighschoolfitnesstoabunchofboysthattoweroverme.Ithinkit’shilariousthathe’sbaldingattwenty-eight.
“Howwasyourweekend?”
“Great.Fantastic.Awesome.”Icouldprobablystopbutmymouthkeepsrunning.“Itwassuperfun.”IgotnailedsohardIfeltitinmysoul.“Howwasyours?”
HissmirkismoreirritatingthanCarter’s,onlybecauseit’slackingthesexy.“Ibetitwas.Haveagoodday,MissParker.”Hewinksbeforedisappearingupthestairs.
“Allrightythen,”Imutter,pushingthroughthegymdoors.I’mkindoflaggingbehindtodaybecause,asI’vesaid,Igotfuckedstraightintothegroundlastnight.Literally,Carterdroppedmeonmyassafterhebrokehiswall.Thenhefuckedmeonthefloor.So,anyway,mylegsareachywithasideofjelly,whichmeansmyseniorboysarealreadydressedandwaitingforme.
AndtheypounceonmethesecondIstrollin.
“MissParkerrr,you’relate.”
“Youleftuswaiting.”
“Areyoulimping?Whatkindoffreakyshitdidyougetuptothisweekend?”
Iswattheballsylittleshitintheshoulderandshovemyfingerinhisface.“Watchit.”Sinkingdowntothebleachers,Ikickmyheelsoffandswapthemformyrunners.Wincingatthepainthatrunsupmyrighthamstring,Icurlovermykneesandgripmycalves.“Fuckingfuckme,”Igrumbleundermybreath.“Thatfreakinghurts.”
“Feelingsore,eh?”Bradgrinsdownatme.“Mustabeenakillerweekend.”
“Mindyourbusiness,”Ihiss,buttakehishandwhenheoffersittome,pullingmeoffthebleachers.Iclapmyhandstogether.“Okay,let’sget—”Idon’tfinish.Instead,Iplantmyfistsonmyhipsandshootagloweratallmyboys,snickeringbehindtheirhands.“AreyouseriouslywhisperingaboutmewhileI’mstandingrighthere?”
It’sTravisDukethathastheballstostepforward,phoneout.“MissParker,isthisyou?”
“Iswhatme?”Myownphonestartsvibratinginmybackpocket,andforsomereason,mymouthissuddenlytheSahara;swallowingisimpossible.IleanintoTravis,soIcangetalookat—
“Holy-fuck-shit.OhmyGod.”ThewordsleavemymouthbeforeIcanstopthem,andmyhandsflytomylips.Idon’tknowifit’stokeepmorewordsfromspillingoutorbecauseImightvomit.Maybeboth.
IripTravis’sphoneoutofhishands.
“They’regreatpictures.Youlookhot.”
“Nowonderyourlegshurttoday.Thatguy’sfuckingmassive.”
“Andyou’resotiny.Probablywreckedyour—”
Islapapalmacrossthemouththat’sstilltalking,becausepleasedon’tfinishthesentence.Myphoneisgoingcrazyinmypocket,myheartisajackhammer,andIcan’tformulateasinglethoughtotherthanohfuck
Itearmyphoneoutofmypants,readytohoofitacrossthegym,butinsteadIswipeacrossthescreenandacceptthecalljusttogetittostopfuckingvibrating.
“Ididn’ttakeyouforapuckbun—”
“Don’tyoudare,”Igrowl,reelingonBrad.Hebackshimselfupagainstthewall,shakyhandsintheairasIstepintohim.Anentirefoottallerthanmeandthisboyisscaredofmerightnow.“Finishthatsentenceandseewhathappens,Brad,Idareyou.Imaybesmall,butIwillputyouinthegroundandburyyousixfeetdeep.Nobodywillfindyou,Brad.Nobody.”
Ahuskyyetanxiouschuckleistheonlysoundechoingofftheemptygymwallsrightnow,andit’scomingfrommyphone,whichhassomehowfounditswayonspeaker.“Uh,Ollie?”
Ihitthespeakerbuttonandslamitagainstmyear.“Carter?”Spinningawayfromtheboys,Ithrowmymagicalfingerupovermyshoulder,becauseIsureasshitdon’tmissthewhisperedwords.MissParker,CarterBeckett,andfuckingareseeminglythefavoredonesbasedonthenumberoftimesthey’rerepeated.
“Hey.Hi.It’s,uh…yeah,it’sme.Carter…Beckett.”Hebreathesoutaquietfuckmethatsomehowmanagestotipthecornerofmymouthdespitethisentirelyfuckedupsituationrightnow,becausehe’ssoadorablysweetwhenhe’snervous.“Areyouokay?I’mguessing…Imean,didyouseethe,um…pictures?”
DidIseethepictures?
“There’sanarticletoo,”Ithinkoutloud,scanningTravis’sphonescreen.I’mrenderedspeechlessbythesightbeforemewhenIswipeup.MeandCarter,fromabouttwenty-fivedifferentangles,knee-deepinarigorousgameoftonsilhockeyoutfrontoftherestaurantyesterday.
Cartersighs.“Yeah.Thearticle.Imean…it’s…youlookbeautiful,”hetries.Andfails.Becausethatdoesn’thelp,notrightnow,notreally.Anothersigh.“Areyou…areyouokay?”
I’mtoobusyreadingthisridiculousgossiparticletoanswerhim.
Olivia?IsThatYou?
RememberbackinDecemberwhenCarterBeckett,captainoftheVancouverVipers,dedicatedagoaltothemysteriousbrunetteandcouldn’tkeephiseyesoffhertheentiregame?(Yes,Mr.Beckett,weallnoticed!)Theywereseenlaterthatnightdancingthenightaway—anewrecreationalactivityforBeckett—beforeshedisappearedoffourradarforseveralweeks.Well,she’sback,andwesuremissedLittleMissThing.
Beckett,seenherewithOlivia,lastnameunknown,stoppingforsomeultrasteamyPDA—inbroaddaylight,folks!—afterwrappingupwithanintimatelunchatWestOakonSunday.IguesstheymissedthememothatSundayistheLord’sday.
IsBeckettfinallyreadytochangehisways,orwilloldhabitsdiehard?OnlytimewilltelliflittleMissOliviaisenoughtokeepthemanwhocan’tbetamedinterested.Staytuned!
“Ohmyshitfuck.”Idon’tevenknowwhatI’msayinganymoreasIshoveTravis’sphonebackintohischest.Withonehandburiedinmyhair,Ispinaround,becauseI’mnotsurewhatthehellelsetodo.IsOliviaenough?Whatthefuck?StupidtearsstingmystupideyeballsasCarter’spatientvoiceremindsmethathe’sstillinmyear
“Olivia?I’msorryI’mnottherewithyouforthis.Butit’s…it’sdifferent,right?It’snotthesameas…asbefore.Eventhearticlesaidso.”
Isqueezemyeyesshutandpressashakyhandtomymouth.ThearticlesaidImightnotbeenough,that’swhatitsaid.
“Hey,”hewhispers.“Talktome.”
“Ihaveaclassrightnow,Carter.Ihavetogo.”Irubmyeyesasmythroatcloses.“I’llcallyoulater,okay?”Iendthecallassoonashegivesmetheokay,thenturnbacktomyboys.“Uh…doa…sit.Justsit.Fiveminutes.Ineedfiveminutes.”Ineedmorethanfiveminutestogetahandleonmyself,butit’sastart.
Shuttingmyselfinmyoffice,Ipacebackandforth.I’vegotovertwentytextmessagesandhalfofthemarefromCara.TheonethatrollsinrightnowisapictureofmeandCarterandourduelingtongues,exceptCara’sdrawnaheartaroundusandwrittenhubbahubbaacrossthetop.IwishIcouldfindthehumorinthissituation,butrightnowI’mstruggling.It’sridiculous,Iknow.Iwasthereyesterday;Iknewpicturesweretaken.
FourtextsfromCartercomeinrapidsuccession,andnoteventheridiculousnamehegavehimselfinmyphonelastnightdoesmuchtoeasetheanxietyunfurlinginmychestandstomachrightnow.
World’sSexiestMan:ruokollie???
World’sSexiestMan:i’msorry.iwishicouldbewithurightnow.
World’sSexiestMan:callmelater??
World’sSexiestMan:plzdon’tbeupset.noweveryoneknows.it’llbeok.i’llmakeitup2u.promise.*tongueemoji**eggplantemoji**peachemoji*
Onemorecomes,becauseCarter’srelentlessandit’slikehewon’tsettleuntilhemakesmesmile.Thisonesucceeds.
World’sSexiestMan:urstillmyprincess,evenifurmadatme4showinguoff*kissemoji**heartemoji*
Butthenexttextmessagehasthatsenseofdreadslidingrightback,sinkinglowinmystomach.
Jeremy:Urcomingoverfordinnertonight.Apparentlywehavesomecatchinguptodo.
***
ThetensionatthisdinnertableismorepalpablethanthesteakI’mcurrentlyhackingapart.
Iglanceupfrommyplatetofindmybrother’sglarelockedonme.Iscowlrightbackandkeeponsawing,maybealittlemoreaggressivelythannecessary,becauseIwanthimtothinkhedidashittyjobcookingthesebadboysup.Hedidn’t.Mysteakisperfect.
“Overdone,”Imurmur,justtopisshimoff.
“Likehell,”hescoffs,thosebrowneyesneverleavingmine,onlyflickeringwhenhiswifesnickers.
“So,”mysister-in-law,Kristin,starts,eagertoeasethehostility.
“Daddy’smadatyou,AuntieOllie,”Alannahsaysmatter-of-factly.“Idonnowhatfor.CarterBeckettiseverything.”Shesetsherforkdownandstartstickinghisexcellentqualitiesoffonherfingers.“He’srich,he’sthebestskater,hescores,like,athousandgoals,andhe’s,like,thecutestboyinthewholeworld.”
Ipointmyknifeather.“He’sfunny,too,andhisfavoritecookiesareOreos.”
I’mjustfuelingmybrother’sfireatthispoint.Thatmuchisclearbythedeep,jaggedbreathshe’ssuckinginfromacrossthetable,thewayhe’sgrippinghissteakknifelikehemightstabitintothewoodentableifthisconversationdoesn’tendpronto.
Alannahgasps,slappingherpalmsdownonthetable.“Thosearemyfavoritecookies!”Foldingherhandstogetherinprayeratherchin,shepouts.“Willyoupleasetellyourboyfriendthatwehavethesamefavoritecookies?”
He’snotmyboyfriend,butIflashherasmileandnod.“Ofcourse.”
“Doesheliketodunk’eminmilklikeme?Doesheeat’emwhole?Ordoeshetwist’emapartandlicktheicingoff?”Shetwirlsherponytailaroundherfinger,staringdreamilyintospace,eyestwinkling.“Iwonder…”
“Well,you’llneverfindout,becauseyou’llnevermeethim.”Jeremypushesbackfromthetable,pickinguphisplateandmine,eventhoughI’mnotfinishedyet.Ilungeforit,buthespinsaway.“AuntieOllieisbreakingupwithhim.”
Aloud,disbelieving,that’s-fucking-hilariouslaughescapesme.“I’mabsolutelydoingnosuchthing.”Firstofall,IthinkCarterwouldliterallyknockmydoordownifItriedtoendthings.Secondly,no.Nofreakingway.Ilikehim,Ihavehim,Iwanttokeephim.
Ishouldprobablytellhimthat.Carter,notJeremy.BecauseIwaskindofstuckonfreak-outmodeallafternoon,hadtohaveCaratalkmeoffacliffaboutpicturesandmeaninglessarticles,andthencamerighthere.Wehaven’thadachancetotalk,andIknowhe’sworriedaboutme.
Jeremyloadstheplatesintothedishwasherandslamsitshut.ItbouncesbackopenandIsnicker.Theglareheshootsmefromoverhisshoulderisanineoutoftenonthemenacingscale.
Kirstintouchesmyhand.“Don’tworry.Iwon’tlethimhurtyou.”Hervoicedrops.“AndCarterBeckettissosexy.Ineedallthegorydetails.”Herblueeyesbulgeandshepokestheinsideofhercheekwithhertongue.“Allofthem.”
“Kris!”Jeremy’sboomingvoicehasusjumping.“Comeon!No!You’resupposedtobeonmyside!”Hisarmsareallflail-y.Helooksdesperate.Ibitemyliptokeepfromlaughing.
“I’malwaysonyourside,honey.”
“Thanky—”
“Buttherearenosideshere,”Kristincontinues.“Olivia’sanadult.Shecandatewhomevershelikes.”
“Areyoufuck—”hiseyesslidetohisdaughter,whosewidegazeisbouncingbetweenthethreeofus,“—freakingkiddingme?She’sgonnagethurt.”Hewavesahandoverme.“Imean,literally,your,uh…thingieisgonnabehurting.Heprobablygaveyougonorrheaorsomething.”
Icringe,sinkingalittlelowerinmyseat.Ican’tblameJeremyforthinkingthat.IsureashellsaidthesamethingwhenCarterandIfirstmet.I’mabouttotellhimthatCarter’sclean,butthenIrealizeIdon’tneedtojustifyanythingtomybrother.
“I’mnotgoingtostopseeinghimbecauseyoudisapprove,Jeremy.”
Pushingawayfromthetable,Ipullmynephewoutofthecontraptionhe’sbouncingaroundinandhughimclose.He’ssuchachunker,alwayshungry;seethefisthe’scurrentlytryingtostuffintohismouth.
“Wantmetofeedhim?”IaskKristin.PullingJem’sshirtup,Iticklehispudgybellybeforegivinghimabig,wetraspberry.Hegiggleslikecrazy,spitbubblingfromhismouth.
“That’dbegreat,Liv,thanks.Hisbottleisinthefridgeifyouwanna—”
“No.”JeremyripsJemfrommygraspanddepositshimintoKristin’slap.Shecouldn’tlookmoreirritated,andwhenheturnsawayfromher,sheslicesherfingeracrossherneckwhileglaringatthebackofhishead.Iloveher.“You’renotusingmysontodistractfromthefactthatyou’redatingtheworld’sbiggestmanwhore.”
Alannah’snosescrunches.“What’samanwhore,Daddy?”
“That’swhatAuntieOllie’sboyfriendis,sweetheart.”Hispatronizingsmileisdirectedatme,andhepatsAlannah’shead.
“Heisnot.”Ithrowmyarmsacrossmychest.“Notanymore.He’sdifferent.”
Jeremylaughs.It’soneofthoseexasperatedlaughs,likehecan’tbelieveheevenhastohavethisconversationwithmeashedragsbothhandsdownhisfaceinslowmotion.“Youcan’thonestlybelieveyou’rethegirlCarterBeckettisgoingtochangefor.”
Thesnideremarkpiercesrightthroughmychestcavity.Hisintentionsmaybeharmless,butthat’ssurenothowitfeels.Becauserightnowmyownbrotherisbackingupthatarticle.TheonethatwonderedifI’dbeenoughforCarter,theoneCaraonlyjustmanagedtoconvincemewasaloadofcrap.
IclearmythroatandreachforAlannah’shead,kissingherhairbeforeImovetowardmynephewandsister-in-law.“Well,asmuchfunasitistolistentohowmyownbrotherthinksIcan’tpossiblybegoodenoughforamanlikeCarterBeckett,IthinkI’mgonnagetgoing.”
“Aw,Liv,comeon.Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”
“Youmeantitexactlylikethat,”Isayquietly,tryingtomaskthehurt.
KristinstandswithJemononehip,grippingafistfulofJeremy’sshirt.“You’rebeinganassholerightnow.Apologizetoyoursisterorfindsomewhereelsetosleeptonight.”
“Youcansleepwithme,Daddy!”Alannahshoutsexcitedly.Shefrownsandplantstwofistsonherhips.“ButonlyafteryousaysorryforhurtingAuntieOllie’sfeelings.”
Jeremyfollowsmetothefrontdoor,hisbig,stupidfeetclompingbehindme.“Ollie,comeon.Ididn’tmeanthatyou’renotgoodenough.”
“That’swhatyousaid.Andthat’swhatthearticlesaidtoo.”Mybottomlipquiverswithoutmypermission.Jeremy’sneverbeengoodwithtears.That’swhyhisarmsgoup,allfrantic,becausehe’sdesperatetostopthembeforetheystart.
“No,no,no,no!Olivia,no.You’reenough!You’retoomuch!Toogood!”Hethrowshisheadbackandgroansatmywateryeyes.Iwon’tlie,IhavethepowertostoptheminthisparticularscenarionowthatIseehimcrumbling,butIletthemcome,justtogetsomeslack.“Ollie.Fuck.”
Hisarmscomearoundme,pullingmeintohimasherocksussidetoside.Ihidemyvictoriousgrininhischest.
“Hemakesmehappy,Jer.”Pullingback,Iwipethetheatricsfrommyeyes
“Iwantyoutobehappy.Ido,Ollie.ButIdon’twantyoutogethurt.”
“I’mabiggirl.Icanhandleit.”I100percentcannothandleit,notifhehurtsme.ButI’mlearningtotrusthim,trustthathisintentionsarepure.
“Areyousureyoulikehim?Like,ifthere’sevenashredofdoubt—”
“Ilikehim.Alot.Noshreds.Notevenone.”
Hisgazesweepsmyfacebeforehenods.“Yeah,okay.Fine.I’llgivehimashot.”Hetakesmyhand,tugging.“NowquitthisfakeI’m-leavingbullshit.Yournephewneedstobefed.”
Giggling,Iskipbackthroughthelivingroom,scoopingJemoutofKristin’sarmsandkissinghiscutelittlenose.
Alannahthrowsherarmsaroundmywaist.“Ican’tbelievemyauntisdatingCarterBeckett.Allthegirlsontheteamaregonnabesojealous.”
Shestaysupwaylaterthanaseven-year-oldshouldtowatchthehockeygame,andwhenJeremywalksmetothedoorlaterhehandsmehisVipersjersey,theonewithCarter’slastnameonit.
“Whatthehelldoyouwantmetodowiththis?”
Helooksattheground,rubbingthebackofhisneckwhilehegrumblessomethingIsureashelldon’tmakeout.
“Pardon?”
Jeremythrowshishandsintheairwithanexasperatedexhale.“Isaidcanyougetyourstupidboyfriendtosignmystupidjersey!”
There’snohidingmysmirkatthisturnofevents,andthelastthingIseebeforemybrotherslamsthedoorinmyfaceisthemegarollofhiseyes.CHAPTER26DIDIDOITRIGHT?CARTER
Idon’twannabrag,butI’mplayingphenomenally.
BeingwithOlivialastnightlitafireundermyass,andthepuckIjustburiedinthenetforthesecondtimetonightistheproof.
Emmettjumpsatmewithachestbumpthatsmashesmeintotheboards,andwhenIfalltotheice,therestofmyteampilesontopofme.
Itmayhavebeenthegame-winninggoal.Inovertime.
LikeIsaid,Idon’twannabrag,but…Ido.
“Outstandingplayingfromyoutonight,Carter.Absolutelyremarkable,”praisesoneofthereporterscrowdingmeoutsidethechangeroomwhenImakeitbackthere.
“It’sateameffort,likealways.”IsnagAdam’sjerseyandtughimover.“Imean,thisguy.Wherethehellwouldwebeifitwasn’tforthisguy?”Ishakehiscagebeforehestartspullinghishelmetoff.“Bestgoalieintheleague.”
“Adam,yougotthatlastassisttonight.How’sthatfeel?”
“Alwaysnicetohelpleadmyteamtoawin,”hereplieswithasmile,runninghishandoverhispuffedchest.Hegesturestome.“Carter’salwaysreadyforapassuptheboards,waitingtotakeoff.”
SweatispouringfromeveryorificeofmyskinandallIwanttodoiswrapthisup,getintheshower,andseeifmygirl’swaitingformeontheotherendofthephone.
Adamnudgesmeinthesidewithhispaddedelbow.WhenIlookup,hesendsapointedglancetowardthereporters.
“Huh?”Imighthavespacedoutthere.
“Iaskedifthegirlyouwereseenoutwithyesterdayhasanythingtodowithyourbeyondstellarperformancetoday?”Thereportergesturedwithhishandlikehe’stryingtorememberhername.Idoubthe’sforgotten;it’ssplashedallovertheinternetinthesportsworldtoday,alongwithherpicture.“Olivia,Ithinkhernamewas.”
Ismile,straighteningoffmystickasIclapAdamontheback.Oliviadoesn’twanttheworldtoknowher,butIdo.Iwanteveryonetoknowshe’smine.“Haveagoodnight,everyone,”Isaywithawave,movingtowardthechangeroom.ExceptIcan’tresist,so…Ipeekupatthecameraandwink.“Hi,Ollie.”
MymoodsourswhenIpulloutmyphoneinthechangeroomandfindthere’sstillnowordfromher.
Souredprobablyisn’ttherightword.I’manxious,Ithink.Idon’treallyknowwhat’sgoingon.Shouldshebemessagingmemore?DidImessagehertoomuchtoday?AmIbeingoverbearing?Isthishowthisgoes?
IglanceatAdam.He’sgotthesameexpressiononhisfaceashestaresdownathisphone:disappointment.Hesighsandstuffshisphoneaway;there’snowordfromCourtneyagain.
Butthat’sdifferent,isn’tit?
Orisit?
“Fuck.”Iaccidentallymutterthewordoutloud.
Emmettstrollsoutoftheshowerwithatowelwrappedaroundhiships,eyeingme.“Everythingokay?”
“Idon’tknow.IthinkmaybeOliviamightbemadatme?”Ishrug.“Idon’tknow.”Ialreadysaidthat.“Ihaven’theardfromherverymuch.”IfIwasintown,I’dsimplyshowupatherhouse.ButI’m,like,seventy-twohoursawayfromseeingher,whichIhate
IgetafacefullofEmmett’sdickwhenhedropsthetowel,reachingforhisboxers.
“Fuck’ssake.”Ishieldmyeyeswithmyhand.“Tuckthatthingaway.”
Hechuckles,givinghishipsalittleroll.“CarasaidLivwasupsetbecausethearticlesaidshewasn’tenoughtokeepyouinterested.”
Olivia?Notenough?Well,that’sfuckingridiculous.“Butshe—”
“Iknow,butshe’sagirl.”Hetapshistemple.“Thisshitgetsinsidetheirbrainsandlayseggs.”Hetugshispantsuphislegs.“Anyway,Caresaidherbrotherwasn’thappyandwasmakinghergoover.Probablywhyyouhaven’theardfromhermore.”
Imakeaface.“Nothappyaboutwhat?”
Emmettlevelsmewithalookbutit’sGarrettwhosnortsandanswers.“Somebodywouldhavetorestrainmeifyoutriedtogetwithoneofmysisters.”
That’sunnecessary.Hissistersarewaytooyoungforme.Also,they’rebasicallyGarrettinfemaleform.So,nothanks.“Idon’tseetheissue.”
Garrettdropshisskatesintohisbag.“Putitthisway.Ifyouhadadaughter,wouldyouwantherto—”
“Nope.Nowayinhell.Gotit.”Noneedtofinishthatsentence.Iwouldchopthedickoffanymanwithahistorylikeminewhotriedtogetnearmydaughter,andthenI’dlockherupuntilshewasthirty.Maybeeventhirty-five.All-girlschoolwouldprobablybeagoodoption.Unlessshelikesgirls.Fuck.Nowhereissafe.
Okay,somaybeIgetwhatherbrother’sdealis.ButI’mnotgonnabelikethatanymore.Olivia’stheonlygirlIwannagetdownandfreakywith.Iwon’thurther;Iknowit.
ButI’mdistractedtheentireridebacktothehotel,staringdownatmyphone,composinganddeletingamessagetoOliviathreetimesbeforeIfinallytuckmyphoneaway.
“Domeafavor,”Emmettsaysasweheadintothebarinthelobby.It’srammedandrowdyandIkindadon’twanttobehere.“Rememberhowitlookstobesurroundedbygirlswhothrowthemselvesatyou.Doingnothingisn’tenough.Youhavetoactivelydoanythingbutnothing.”
“Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”
“Itmeansit’seasyforsomeonetosnapapictureofyoustandingnexttoagirlwho’stouchingyourarmandheadlineit‘CarterBeckett:CheatingAlready.’Beaware,that’sall.Youhavesomeoneelsetothinkaboutnow.ApicturelikethatwouldembarrassOlivia.”
“Right.”Ihonestlycouldn’tfeelmoredenserightnow.HowisitthatIneedtohavethisexplainedtomeattwenty-seven?Eitherway,I’mthankfulforhiswarning,becausethesecondwesit,agirlthrowsherselfinmylap.
I’mnotsuremyreactionisthebest.Ithrowmyhandsintheairandscream,accidentallyshovingheroffmylapandtothegroundwhenIrockettomyfeetandyellout,“Ihaveagirlfriend!”
Afterafewdeepbreathsandachancetoassessthesituationwithmyfriendslaughingaroundme,Ihelpthestunnedgirltoherfeet.“I’msosorry.Ididn’tmeantopushyou.”
“It’sokay.”Shegiggles,rightbeforesheattachesherselftomytorso.
Uh…
Grippingherbiceps,Ilifthergentlyoffherfeet,sidestepashitloadtotheleft,dropherbackdown,repeat,“Ihaveagirlfriend,”andheadbacktomytable.
“Girlfriend,eh?”Adam’sgrinisridiculouslygoofyashepumpshisbrows.He’salreadygotdeepfriedpicklesandIwannaknowhowinthehellthathappened.“Goin’straightforthebigguns?”
Iswipeapickleoffhisplateandsmotheritinranchsauce.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Heshrugs.“Ithoughtyouwerejustdating.”
“Isn’tthatthesamething?”
GarrettandEmmettsnicker,andAdamhumsaroundhisfoodwhileshakinghishead.“Youhavesomuchtolearnaboutwomen,younggrasshopper.”
“I’mthreeyearsolderthanyou.”
“AndyetI’myearsaheadofyoumentally.”
“Fuckyou.”Istealanotherpickletodistractfromthefactthathe’sright.
“Untilyou’vehadthisparticularconversation,Olivia’snotyourgirlfriend.She’sagirlyou’redating,whichmeansyou’regettingtoknoweachother,seeingifyou’recompatible,ifthefeelingsarerealenoughtoturnthisintoanactualrelationship.”
Whatthefuck?Ialreadyknowwe’recompatible.She’snotafraidtocallmeoutonmyshitandI’mnotafraidtoputherinherplace.Which,lastnight,wasonthegroundwhileIfuckedhersenseless.Also,shelaughsatallmyjokes.Andhersmilemakesmyowngrow.Andherhandfeelsreallynicetuckedintomine.Like,perfect.Plus,IcanswallowherentirebodyupinmyarmswhenIhugher.
Andfeelings?Iknowminearerealenough.It’stheonlyexplanationastowhyIcouldn’tgetoverheraftershewalkedaway.Arehers…arehersnotrealenoughyet?Doesshenotknow?
“Italsomeansshe’sfreetodateotherpeopleatthesametime,”Garrettadds.“You’renotexclusivewithoutthatlabel,andyoudon’tgetthatlabelwithoutaconversation.”
“What?No.Otherpeople?No.”She’snotallowed.Iforbidit.IfireoffatexttoherbeforeIcanmakemyfingersstop.
ruseeingotherppl???
Myphonestartsvibratinginstantaneously,andIhitAcceptwithoutcheckingthenamefirst.
“Ollie?”Theleveloffranticinmyvoicerightnowneedstogo.Iclearmythroatandtryagainwithalittlemoregravelandindifference.“Olivia?Hey.”
“DidyouseriouslyonlypickupbecauseyouthoughtIwasyourgirlfriend?You’vebeenignoringmealldamnday,CarterBeckett!”
Mychestdeflateswithanexcessivesigh.“Hi,Mom.”Ididn’tpurposelyignoreher.HertextsstartedrollinginwhileIwasonthephonewithOliviaearliertoday,tryingtotamethiswholearticledebaclebeforeshitcouldhitthefan,whichitdidanyway.AndthenIwasfocusedongettingOliviatorespondtomytexts,andafterthat,Igotonaplane.“How’sthemostbeautifulgirlintheworld?”Overfifty,Iaddinmyhead.
“Don’tyoutrytobuttermeup,Carter,Iswear.”She’shalfwaytoscreaming.She’smad.
“You’remad.”
“You’redamnrightI’mmad,honey!”
“Yousoundlessmadwhenyoucallmehoney.”Don’tpokethebear,mydadwouldsay.ButIliketopoke.“Isitthattimeofthemonthalready?I’msureIhaveanotherweekbeforeyouandJennieandyoursynced-upcyclesstartattacking.”Poke,poke
“Oh,youlittle—”Thewordsdissolveintoagroan,andIcanpracticallyseehershiftingherglassesupsoshecanrubhereyes.“Somebodyneedstoslapyouupsidetheheadanditmightbeme.”
“ButIloveyou,Mummy.You’remyfavorite.”Iknowhowtoreelherbackin.Theguyshaveseenmedoittoomanytimestocount,hencetheamusementdancingontheirfaces.
“Carter,nobodyknowshowtopissmeofflikeyoudo.”Shesighs.“Doyoureallyhaveagirlfriend?”
“Yes.Maybe.Idon’tknow.”I’mconfused.“ApparentlyIneedtohavethatconversationwithherandnotjustassumeso.”
There’salaugh.“You’vealwaysbeenapushyboy,goingafterwhateveryouwant.Younevertooknoforananswer,soI’msurethiswillbenodifferent.”
“Damnright.”
Shechucklessoftly.“Areyouhappy,honey?”
HeatcreepsupmyneckasIlookaround.“I’mout,Mom.”
“Answerthequestion,Carter.”
“Yes.”
“Yeswhat?”
Idrummyfingersonthetable.I’dliketosaynobody’spayingmeanyattention,butthat’saloadofcrap.Therearethreesetsofeyesgluedonme.Four,ifyoucountthegirlonGarrett’slap.Andthat’snotcountingthepeoplearounduswhocan’tbelievethey’reinthesamebarastheVancouverVipers.
SoIholdmyphoneclosertomymouthandgrumbleoutwhatshewantstohear.
“Pardonme?Ididn’thearyou.”Hersnarkyamusementgrindsmygears.
“Yes,I’mhappy!”
“Oh,sweetheart.IhopeIdidn’tembarrassyouinfrontofyourfriends.”
***
Ilastawhoppingthirty-twominutesatthebarafterIhangupwithmymom.Longenoughtodrainabeer,devouraplateofnachoswithEmmett,andwatchGarrettgetitonwithablondechick.
I’vegotamouthfuloffoamytoothpastewhenIhearmyphoneringonthebedsidetable.Idashoutofthebathroomanddiveacrossthebed,knockingmyphonetothefloorwhenIseeOlivia’snameonthescreen.
“Shit.”IrolloffthebedandhitAcceptontheFaceTimecallfivethousandtimes.“Hey.Hi.You.Olivia.”Itcomesoutsupergurglybecauseofthetoothpaste.Iholdupafinger.“Haftaspit.”
Itakeherwithmeintothebathroom,whichIdon’tthinkshemindsbecauseshe’sgigglingquietly,andIrinsemymouthout.ThenIflopdownonthebed,throwahandbehindmyhead,andflashheragrin.“Hey.”
Herfacebrightenswithhersmile.“Hi.You’realreadyinbed?Ithoughtyou’dbeatthebar.”
Iliftashoulderlikeit’snobigdeal,likeIwasn’tpiningoverherdownthere.“Iwasforabit,butI’mtired.”
“Oh.Doyouwantmetocallyoutomorrowinstead?”
Ishootforward.“No!Imean.No,that’sokay.”Imissheralready,thoughIsawhertwenty-fourhoursago.She’sinbed,too,andshelookstired.Allthisshittodayprobablytookatollonher.“Iwanttotalktoyounow.”
“Iwanttotalktoyounowtoo.”Leaningagainstherpillows,shefiddleswiththestringsofthebluesweatershe’swearing.
“Areyouwearingmyhoodie?”Withasmugsmirk,Iscratchmybarechest.Oliviatracksthemovement,which,unfortunately,onlymakesmesmirkharder.
Tuggingontheneckofmysweater,thebottomhalfofherfacedisappearsbehindit.“Ilikeit.Itsmellslikeyou.”
“HowdoIsmell?”
Shegrins.“Sogood,likeIwannaburymyfaceinyourchestandsoakupyourhugs,everysinglesecondofthem.”
SweetChrist.“Youknow,you’rekindofasoftie.Quitethecontrastfromthesassybrunettewho’stoldmetogofuckmyselfwhoknowshowmanytimes.”
Hercheekstint.“Shutup.”
“Nope.Mylittlesoftie.Soft,fluffy,tinykittenOllie.”That’sexactlywhatsheis:akitten.Fierceandsassywithclawsshe’snotafraidtoshowwhensheneedsto,butunderneathitall,abigballofcuddlyfluff.
“Carter,”shewarns,butshe’snottryinghardenoughtohidethatsmile.Iseeit.Herlowerlipslidesbetweenherteethasshefiddleswiththemessytopknotonherhead.“Hey,I’msorryIkindadisappearedtoday.Iknowit’ssilly,becauseIknewtheytookpictures.ButIforgot,Iguess,aftereverythingelseyesterday.Iwaskindofinshock.Andthearticle.Ididn’tlikethewayitmademefeel.”
Herhonestyisrefreshing,andIappreciateit.I’mtiredofmisunderstandingsandmiscommunications.IneedtoknowhowshefeelssoIcanhelpherthroughthisshit.Ialsoknowthatthiswholethingisnewforher,beinginthespotlight,soIthinkIneedtobepatientwithherwhilewenavigatethispartofourrelationship.
Relationship.Oooh,thatwordtastesfunny.Kindalikeit.
“Ishouldhavepreparedyoubetter.”
Oliviashakesherhead.“No,Carter,youdidn’tdoanythingwrong.Ikindalostmyheadthereforabit,butIdidn’tmeantomakeyouquestionwhetherornotIwasseeingotherpeople.”
Iwaveheroff.“Pfft.Youdidn’t.”Butalso:“Areyou?”
Thelaughthatburstspastherlipsmakesmegrin.Adamwaswrong.Thisgirl’smygirlfriend;Iknowit.Herfeelingsarereal.Ihavenodoubt.
“Ionlyhaveroomforonegoofy,demanding,arrogantmaninmylife.”
Irunapalmdownmyproudchest.“Andit’sme?”
“It’syou,Mr.Beckett.”
Iwhoopmyfistthroughtheair.“Fuckyeahitis!”Stretchingoutoverthebed,IwatchasOliviasnugglesbeneaththeblankets.IwishIwassnugglingwithher.“Imissyou.Isthatweird?ShouldIbetellingyouthat?Orkeepingittomyself?Youdon’thavetosayitback.Don’tbepressuredoranything.Ijust—”
“Carter.”
Ipullinadeepbreath,tryingtoeasetherapiddrumofmypulse.“Yeah?”
Olivia’ssmileissweetandsleepyasshelayshercheekdownonherpillow.“Imissyoutoo.”
“Youdo?”
Sheyawns,rubbinghereyes.“Yeah.It’sratherirritating.Iwishyouwereherewithme,butinsteadI’malone.Cold.”Thelastwordisalazymumblethattumblesoffthetipofhertongueashereyesflutterclosed.Itlookslikeittakeseverythinginhertokeeppryingthembackopen.
“I’dkeepyouwarm,baby.”
“Mmm,Iknow.Bear.”
“Bear?”
“Mhmm.”Shestiflesayawn.Thewhitesofhereyesarered,hidingbehindherhoodedlids,hersmiledazed.“You’relikeagrizzlybear.Warmandsnuggly.Cute.”
“Ithinkyoumeanhugeandpowerful.”Iflexabicepandgrowlforgoodmeasure.
Hertiredgiggleisthebest,quietandhumming.
“You’regonnafallasleeponme,sleepygirl.”Hittingtheswitchonthelamp,IwatchasOlivia’seyesfallclosedforthelasttime.Herlipspartasherchestrisesandfallssteadily,litupbythegentleglowofalampsomewhereoverthere,rightwhereIwannabe.
Ican’ttakemyeyesoffher.
“Carter?”shecallssuddenly,thewordsthickwithsleep.Hereyesarestillclosed,andIthinkshemightbedreaming.
“Yeah,princess?”
“WhatifIfallinlovewithyou?”
“ThenI’llfallwithyou,too,Olliegirl.”CHAPTER27BEDTIMEBURRITOS&SURPRISEGUESTSOLIVIA
IhadadreamonMondaynightthatItoldCarterIwasfallinginlovewithhim.
Onlyitmightnothavebeenadream.Itmight’vebeentotallyreal.
BecausewhenIwokeupTuesdaymorning,itwastoableary-eyedCartersmilingupatmefrommyphone,wherehe’dapparentlybeenallnight.Ifellasleeponhimandhedidn’twanttohanguponme,hetoldme.Thecalllasteduntilmysevena.m.alarmwokeusbothup.I’mstillsoimpressedwithmyiPhonebatteryI’mthinkingofsendingAppleanemail.
ThewordsImighthavemutteredinmysleepcamerushingbacktomeasCarterlookedatmewithasweetexpression,watchingmefumbleovermyapologyforfallingasleep,forkeepinghimonthephoneallnight,foranysleep-inducedramblingshemight’veheardwithoutcomingrightoutandaskingifIdreamtit.
ComeWednesdaymorning,I’mstillnervouswhenhisnamelightsupmyscreen.Likerightnow.
“Ineedapictureofyou,”hesaysinwayofgreetingandwithaheavysigh,shakingouthischestnutbed-headwaves.
“Goodmorningtoyoutoo.”
Hegrins.“Morning,princess.Ican’twaittowakeupnexttoyouallweekend.”
Yeah,apparentlythat’shappening.HefliesoutnextMondayandwon’tbehomeuntilSaturdayandI’mkindofdreadingit,soI’mprettygiddyaboutspendingthewholeweekendtogether.Also,myhouseisfrigid.Nothavingtosleepinseverallayersofclothingtokeepmyteethfromclatteringwillbearefreshingchangeofpace.
Icovermyyawnandtrytoshakeawaythesleep.I’mtiredbecauseCarterandIwereonthephoneuntilaftermidnight.
Hiseyeshood.“YawnthatbiginmybedandI’llputsomethingrockhardandthrobbingbetweenthoseprettypinklips.”
“Yourmouthandmindareequallyfilthy,Mr.Beckett.”I’mtryingtogetusedtoit,butmostlyitmakesmeblushlikecrazy.Also,turnedon.I’mawholenewlevelofhornywiththisman.Itdoesn’thelphespentallhisfreetimeyesterdaydirtytextingmewhileIwasatwork.
“Thatbringsmebacktothepicture.Ineedone,Ollie.Ihadtojerkittothosepaparazzipictureslastnightafteryouwenttobed.”Heflashesthecameraathiscrotchwhenhegrabsit.“MyswordofthunderandIwouldforeverbeinyourdebt,PrincessOllie.”
I’veheardthatnameatleastfivetimesinthelastfourdaysandIstillcan’twrapmyheadaroundit.Swordofthunder,notPrincessOllie.I’mmostlymanagingtoignorealltheprincesses,andisitborderlineinsaneifIadmitthatIactually…likethem?
“Youmustbetheonlymanonthisearthwhohasnamedhispenis.”
“That’snottrue.GarrettcallshisLieutenantJ—”
“Shutup,youfucker!”ThepillowGarrettchucksatCarter’sheadisthecherryontop.
“PoorGarrett.”
Carterguffaws.“PoorGarrett?Hehitme!Hecould’vetakenaneyeout!”
“You’reindestructible,Carter.Quitwhining.”
There’sthatsmirk.Heflexesaveinybicep.“Yeah,Iamprettyindestructible.Youknowwhat’snotindestructiblethough?Yourp—hey!”Anotherpillowtotheface,thisoneknockinghimsideways.
“Thanks,Garrett,”Icall.
“Welcome!”
“Fuckers,”Cartermutters,rubbingthesideofhishead.“I’llbehomelatetonightsoIwon’tgettoseeyou.”
“Oh.That’sokay.”It’dbemoreconvincingifIweren’tfrowning.
“AndI’mwatchingJenniedancetomorrownight,soIwon’tseeyouuntilFridayatthegame.”
“Who’sJennie?”Iquelltheurgetoaskhimwhyhe’swatchingherdancebecausethisjealousstreakthat’slitafireinmeisdrivingmeinsane.IguessIdon’tdothatgoodofajobofhidingitthough,becauseCarter’smouthtiltswithhissmirk.
“Jennie’smysister.She’sacompetitivedanceratSFUandshe’sgotashowtomorrownight.Also,Ienjoythislittlegreen-eyedmonsterthat’sbeenhidinginsideofyou.”
“Iwasn’tjealous.”Ahalflie,becauseI’mdefinitelyenviousthathissisterhasrhythm,andenoughofittogetintosuchaneliteprogram.IguessCarter’snottheonlyathleticoneinhisfamily.“That’simpressive.”
“Yeah,shegotafullrideoutofhighschool.Beendancingherwholelife.”Hechuckles,scrubbingathisjaw.“Myparentshadnolifeoutsideoftakingustodanceandhockey.Wespentmoretimeinthecartravelingtopractice,games,andrecitalsthanwespentinouractualhouse.Mydadalwayssaid—”Carterpauses,expressionsheepish.Hewavesmeoff.“Ah,forgetit.”
I’veneverlostsomeonethatclosetomesoIcan’tevenbegintocomprehendwhatCarter’sgonethroughovertheyears,buttheheartbreakstilllingersthickintheairwhenhetalksabouthisdad.“Whatdidhesay?”
Carterdropshisgazetohislapbeforeliftingitbacktome.“Hesaidwe’dunderstandwhytheywerewillingtogiveupeverythingforuswhenwehadourownkidssomeday.”
IwishIcould’vemetCarter’sdad.Inthelittlebithe’stoldme,it’sclearhewasawonderfulhusband,asupportivefather,andthathesharedCarter’ssenseofhumor.Apparentlythosetwowerequitetheirritatingpairaroundhismomandsister.
Ican’thelpbutwonderhowCarterwouldbedifferentifhisdadwerestillhere.Ilikehimthewayheis,butIquestionifhewouldn’thavegonethroughyearsofcasual,meaninglesssexifhisdadhadn’tpassed.
Exceptifhehadn’t,there’snowaywe’dbewherewearerightnow,thetwoofus.He’dprobablybemarried,maybehaveakidortwo,becausethere’snowaysomebeautifulwomanwouldn’thavescoopedhimupbynow.Asidefromhisundeniablygoodlooks,Carterisgoofyandhilarious,charismatic,kind,andpassionateenoughtomakeyoufeellikehe’slityouonfire.
HateitallIwant,butthatpastofhisistheonlyreasonwe’reabletogivethisarealshotrightnow.
“Doyouwantkids?”Carterasksmesuddenly.“Ornokids?Doyouhatekids?Youprobablyhatethem,workingwiththemalldayandwhatnot.No,that’sstupid.Youlovethem;youcoachyourniece’shockeyteamonyourowntime.”
Nothingismoreadorablethanananxious,ramblingCarterwhodoesn’tknowwhattosay.Regardlessofbeinganaturalatthisdatingstuffdespiteneverhavingdoneitbefore,it’sclearhe’ssooutofhiselement,second-guessingeverythinghesaysordoes.
“I’dliketohavekidsoneday,”Itellhim.
Histhroatbobsashenods.“Cool.Yeah,cool.Metoo.Oneday.”
“Carter?”
Hisfacelights.“Yeah?”
“Ihavetogetdressedforwork.”
“Oh.Okay.Yeah.Ican’twaittoseeyouFriday,Ollie.I’mgonnascoreyouagoalandblowyouakissonnationaltelevision.”
Igape.“No,you’renot.”
HeflashesmethatdevilishgrinIlove.“IfyouthinkIwon’t,youdon’tknowmeatall.”
We’reoffthephoneforallofthirtysecondswhenatextmessagerollsin
World’sSexiestMan:doupreferprincessorolliewheniscreamyournameintothecrowd?
***
It’safterelevenwhenIfinallycrawlintobed,feelingparticularlymopeyandalittlefrustratedwithmyselfforbeingthatway.IsurvivedfineonmyownbeforeCarteryetnowIcan’tgomorethanafewhourswithouttalkingtohim.It’sdownrightembarrassingandtheonlypersonI’veadmittedittoisCara,andonlybecauseIrememberhowmiserableshewaswhenherandEmmettfirststarteddatingandhe’dgoaway.She’sstillprettymiserableonlongstints,tobehonest.
TheteamboardedinSanJoseatfive,andthoughIknowit’stoolatetoseehim,IguessIwashopingCarterwouldcallwhenhegothome.ButonelastlookatmyphoneshowsmewhatIalreadyknow:hehasn’tcalledormessagedsincemyworkdayended.
Iscoophishoodieupoffthefloor,breathinginhisscentasthethickcottonwrapsaroundme.EventhoughI’mwearingthermallongjohnsandtuckedunderthreeblankets,mybodystillshakeswithashiver.Ipressmyhandtomyface,tryingtowarmmyfrozennose,andwhenthatfailstowork,Igriptheblanketstomychestandrollacrossmymattress.
“Bedtimeburrito,”Imurmurtomyself,satisfiedwithmytightcocoon.Nocoldaircanpenetratethisforcefield,andwiththatknowledge,Istarttodrifttosleep.
I’mrightonthecuspofunconsciousnesswhenthepoundingstarts,joltingmewithayelpasmyeyesflyopen.I’mnotentirelypositivethatIdidn’timagineit;I’msoexhaustedIfeeldelirious.Butwhenitstartsasecondtime,harderandlonger,Ishootoutofbed.
Except—blanketcocoon.ItrytoplanttwofeetonthefloorbutmyanklescrossandIcan’tpullmyarmsoutfrommystraightjacketofblanketsfastenoughtosavemyselffromface-planting.
SoIdo.Face-plant,thatis.Hard.
“Ow,”Imoan,rollingontomyback.Myblanketsloosenenoughformetofreemyarmssotheycanclattertothecoldhardwood.Irubatmynose,mymouth,myforehead;itallhurts.“Fuckme.”
Andthere’sthatdamnknockingagain.MybraintellsmeithearsafaintLiv,Liv,Liv,Liv,soIrolltomystomachandarmycrawlacrossmybedroomfloor.Usingthedoorframetopullmyselfup,Ishaketheblanketsoffmyhipsandheadforthefrontdoor.
IfIweremoreawakeitwouldprobablyoccurtometonotanswerthedooratnearlymidnight,toignorethederangedpersonontheothersideofthedoor.ButI’mdrainedandfeelhalfinthebag,soinsteadofquestioningthelate-nightknocking,Iscrubthesleepfrommyeyes,slideahandundermysweatertoscratchmybellyasIyawn,andthrowthedooropen.
“Oh.Iamdreaming.”Itouchmyface;itreallydoeshurtfromthedreamface-plant.“That’sgood.Thiswon’tbruise.”Iswingthedoorshutandturntoheadbacktobed.
Exceptitdoesn’tclose,andthemanatmydoorsweepsinside,hislongfingersclosingaroundmyelbow.
“Icanseewhyhavingsomeoneashandsomeasmeshowupunexpectedlyatyourdoorinthemiddleofthenightwouldmakeyouthinkthat,butno,you’renotdreaming.”Carter’sgriptightensashehaulsmeintohim,looming.“AndyoujusttriedtoslamthedooronmewhenI’vebeenmissingyouforthreedays,soI’mgonnaneedyoutoopenupthatprettymouthofyoursandlemmetasteyou,gorgeousgirl.”CHAPTER28WHOTURNEDUPTHEHEAT?OLIVIA
Tippingmyheadback,Iblinkupatthemaninfrontofme.SlowlyandfivetimesbecauseIstillthinkI’mdreaming.
“Carter?”Mygazeflickerstothehockeybagonmyfrontporch,thesticks,thecoffee-brownleatherweekenderbaghangingfromhisshoulder.“Whatareyou…you’re…here?”
Poppingthebuttonsofhiswoolcoat,Islidemyhandsinside,pressingmypalmstohiswarmchest,asifIneedtofeelhimtoknowhe’sreal,thathe’sreallystandinginfrontofme.
“You’rehere,”Irepeatslowly.Myeyeslifttohisamusedones,andIlaunchmyselfintohisarms,wrappingmylegsaroundhiswaistasIcrushmyselftohisbody.“You’rehere.”
“I’mhere,Ollie.”Henuzzleshisfaceintomyhairasheholdsmeclose.“FlightgotdelayedandIthoughtitwastoolatetocallbutthenIwasmiserableandIdonnowhatIwasdoingbuthereIam.”
Istuffmyfaceintohisneck,inhalingthatsoothing,delicioussmellI’malreadyaddictedto.“Imissedyou.”
Softlipstouchmyear.“Imissedyou,too,Ollie.Icouldn’twait’tilFriday.Ihopethat’sokay.”Hishandsglideovermywaistandtomyback,cuppingmyass.“Whydoyouhaveablanketwrappedaroundyourankle?”
MyeyespopopenasIstartunwrappingmyselffromCarter’sbody.Hesetsmeonthefloorand,sureenough,thecornerofmyblanketiswrappedaroundmyankle.Iwatchhimhaulhishockeybagofftheporch,throwingitdowntomylivingroomfloorbeforehetosseshiscoatontoahookandkickshisbootsoff.
“Igottangledinmyblankets,”Imurmurasheloosensthetiearoundhisneckandslipsitoverhishead,hangingitonmydoorknob.Whatishedoing?Ishejustsayinghi?Ishestayingover?Hepopsthefirstthreebuttonsonhisshirt,makingmeswallow.
“I’mstarving.”Fingertipssearmyskinashegripsmyhipsandpressesmeintothewall.“Foryou.”Hismouthcoversmine,coaxingitopen,andhistonguemeetsmineforaslow,heatedsweep.“Andforfood.Yougotany?”Twiningourfingers,heleadsmedownthehallwayandintothekitchen.
I’mfixated,watchingashetugshisshirtfromhispantsandrubshishandoverhisrippledtorso,checkingoutthecontentsofmyfridge.Heglancesoverhisshoulder,hittingmewithadazzlingsmileashisgazecoastsdownmybody.
“Wouldyougetridofthatdamnblanketbeforeyouhurtyourself?IfIhavetotakeyoutothehospitaltonight,it’llbebecauseIimpaledyoutoohardwithmycockandfuckedyouintoacoma,notbecauseyoutrippedonthatfuckingblanketandbrokeyourankle.”
Wellthen.That’sonewaytoturnuptheheatinhere.
AndI’mtakingtoolong,apparently,becauseCarterbendsandunwrapsmyankle.
“There.You’resafe.”Heturnsbacktothefridgeandpullsoutmyleftoversfromdinner.Pryingthelidoff,heinhaleswithamoan.“Fuck,thissmellssogood.CanI?”
ThesecondIwrapmyfingersaroundaforkforhim,heyanksitfrommyhandanddigsin,andIwatchhimhooverituplikeadamnvacuum.Idon’tthinkhe’sevenbreathing,justshovelingmyCajunchickenpastaintohismouth.
IshakemyselfoutofwhatevertranceI’min,smilingatthewayCarterlickstheforkafterscrapingitaroundthecontainer,gatheringupalltheoilandseasonings.“IguessI’meatingcafeteriafoodtomorrow.”
Hehaltshislicking,peeringupatme.“Thisisyourlunch?”Heslamsitdown.“Aw,Liv.Whydidn’tyoutellmethat?”Scoopingmeup,hesetsmeonthecounterandpullsmylegsaroundhim,stuffinghisfaceinmyneck.“Iateyourlunch.I’msosorry.ButitwasdelicioussoI’mnotthatsorry.Butstill,sorry.”
“It’sokay.”IpushhimbackwardsoIcanpathisbelly.“You’reabigboy.Youneedyourfood.”
“Ineedyou,”hewhispers,leaninghisforeheadagainstmine.“AndasmuchasIloveyouinmyclothes…”HisfingersdipbeneaththehemofhishoodiethatI’vebeenlivingin,brushingagainstmyskin.“Thishoodieneedstofuckinggo.”
It’sonthefloorasecondlater,andeverywherehisgazetouchessingesmyexposedflesh.
“Thistanktop,”hegrowls,slidingonefingerintoaholethat’sdangerouslyclosetomynipple.Don’taskmewhyIdon’tthrowoutmyrattyclothes.There’snothingbetterforloungingaroundinthanholey,lived-inclothes.“Ifuckinglovethistanktop.ButI’mgonnaruinit.”
“Carter—”
Mywordsdiewiththeripofthethinmaterialashetearsitapart,hisgrinbothdelightedandproud.Myskineruptswithgoosebumpsasthecoolairdancesovermyflesh,makingmeshiver,andCarterwatches.Hepicksupmyhand,examiningmyfingernails,whichareaninterestingshadeofpurple-ishblue,thoughtheyhavenonailpolish.
Hisbrowfurrowsasheglancesupatme.Hisownshouldersshakewithashiver,andherubshishandsupanddownmyarms.“It’sfuckingfreezinginhere,Ol.CanIturnuptheheat?”
He’sonthemovebeforeIcantellhimnottobother,andIhopoffthecountertofollowhimtothefronthall,stoppingtopickhissweaterupoffthefloorandcovermyselfbackup.HumiliationheatsmycheeksatthefaceCartermakeswhenhefindsthethermostat.
“Forty-nine?Ollie,it’sonlyforty-fucking-ninedegreesinhere!”
Mygazedropstothefloorashestartssmashingaroundonthebuttons.“Thatwon’twork.”
“Whatdoyoumeanitwon’twork?Whydoesitsayheatmodeoff?Itwon’tletme—”Hebreaksoffwithagroan,swivelingmyway.
“Myfurnaceisbroken.”
Hisbrowsjump.“Broken?”WhenInod,heskimsahandacrosshisjaw.“Forhowlong?”
“Um…”Iscratchmytemple.“Aweekorso.”Thistime,Iaddinmyhead.
“Aweek?Olivia!Youcan’t—that’snot—”Hisheadwagsashecupsmyface.“Fuck.That’stoocoldforyou,Ollie.”
“Hencetheoutfit.”Igestureatmybundledbody.“Andtheblanketwrappedaroundmyankle.”
“Where’syourfurnace?”Hepointsinquestiontothedoorthatleadsdowntothebasement.“Wantmetotakealook?”
Igrabhishand,stoppinghim,becauseCarterdoesn’twaitforanyone,whichmeansthatassoonasthequestionlefthismouthhewasalreadyhalfwaytothedoor.“Youcan’tfixit.Mybrotheralreadylookedatit.It’sbeeninandoutsincelastwinter.Ineedanewone.”
“Oh.Areyou…areyougoingtodothat?Replaceit?”
MyearsburnandIcan’tlookathim.Ishiftonmyfeetandsinkmyfingersintothebunontopofmyhead.“I’msaving.”
“You’resaving?”
Tearsofembarrassmentpricklemyeyes,andIlookawaybeforehecansee.“Ican’tafforditrightnow.Pleasedropit.”
“I—”
“Ifyou’recold,Carter,you’vegotfivefireplacesathometowarmyouup.”
Thecornerofhismouthquirks.“Seven.”
“What?”
“Ihavesevenfireplaces.”
Heatrushesupmyneck,poolinginmycheeks.“I’msorryIdon’thaveany,”IwhisperasImovebyhim.
“Hey.”Hisfingersclosearoundmyelbowbeforeglidingupmyarm,andhispalmwrapsaroundthenapeofmyneckashegentlypullsmebacktohim.Hisgazeholdsnothingbutconcern.“I’mgonnaneedyoutotellmewhyyougotsoupsetbackthere.”
“Becauseyousaid—”
“IknowwhatIsaid.Iaskedyouifyouweregoingtoreplaceyourfurnace.”Hewatchesmetakemylowerlipbetweenmyteeth.“Areyouembarrassedthatyoucan’taffordit?”
Ifocusonhischest,theflawlessskinthat’speekingoutfromhisopenedbuttons.Eveninthemiddleofwinter,it’ssuchaperfectshadeofsunsetgold.
“Lookatme,Ollie.”Hepullsthetipofmythumbnailfrommymouth,whereIhadn’tnoticeditmigrated,andbracketsmychinbetweenhisfingers,forcingmygazetohis.“Youneverneedtobeembarrassedaboutthat.I’mnotjudgingyou.Iknowyouworkhard,andIknowyou’redoingthebestyoucan.”Histhumbbrushesmybottomlip.“I’mproudofyou.”
Myheartthudsquietlyinmychest,andsomethinginmybellytightensatthesweetwords,thecompassionheholdsinhissteadygaze.
“It’shardnottocomparemyselftosomeonelikeyou,”Iadmit.“Iknowwe’reondifferentplayingfields,buteverythingyouhaveissobeautiful,soincredible,and—”
“Includingyou,Ollie.You’resobeautiful,soincredible,allofyou.Don’tyougetthateverythingelsedoesn’tcompare?I’dtradeitallinforyou.”
Butterfliestakeflightinmystomach.Wrappingmyarmsaroundhiswaist,Ilaymycheekonhischestandbreathedeeply.“Ilikeyourfireplaces.Allsevenofthem.”
Carterchuckles,pressingakisstomyhair.“Iwantyoutobewarm,Ollie.That’sall.I’msorryImadeyoufeelbad.”Hetwistsusbackandforth.“Plus,I’mgonnasnuggletheshitouttayoutonightandIrunhot,soyouwon’tneedalltheseclothesanyway.”
“You’restayingover?”
Hisexpressionsaysduhbuthismouthsays,“AllIwannadoisfuckyouintotomorrowandfallasleepwithmygirlfriendinmyarms.”
Damnit,theregoesmyheartagain,kickingupfromasoft,steadythrumtoawildhammer.
Judgingbythebarelyperceptiblepinktintpaintinghischeekbonesandthewayhe’spulledhislowerlipintohismouthtognawonit,I’dsaythisexceptionallylargemanstandingbeforemeiscurrentlyplayingshy.
“Girlfriend?”
Henods,scratchingathishead.“Isthatokay?IknowIwanttobewithyou.Iknowwe’recompatible.Idon’tneedtimetoseeifthiswillwork,ifI’mseriousaboutyou.Ialreadyknowallthat.IwantyoutobemineandIdon’twanttoshareyouwithanyoneelse.Theguyssaidweweren’texclusiveuntilwehadthisconversationandthatyoucoulddateotherpeople,butIdon’twantthat.Idon’twantyouwithanyoneelse,onlyme.Sobemine.Please.”
Myhandslidesalongthestubblelininghisjaw.“Howareyousingle?”
“Becauseyou’vebeenplayinghardtogetforthelastsevenweeks,giveortake.Becauseyou’rekeepingmestandinghere,waitingaroundforananswertomyquestionwhentheanswerseemsprettyobvioustome.”
“Prettyobvious,huh?Andwhat’stheobviousanswer?”
Cartertugsontheelasticholdingmyhairtogether.Whenittumblestomyshoulders,herakeshisfingersthroughit.“Theobviousanswerisyesbecauseyou’reobsessedwithme.Youcan’tstopthinkingaboutmeandmyprettyeyes.Andmydimples.”Hotbreathrollsdownmyneck.“Youlovemydimples.”
“Yourarroganceneverfailstoamazeme.”
“Whatyoumeanisconfidence,andyoulovethataboutmetoo.”
Iwindmyarmsaroundhisneck,fingerscurlingintohishairashehoistsmeuptohimandstartswalkingustowardmybedroom.“Isthatso?”
“Iknowyoulikethebackofmyhand.”Helaysmedownonthebedandstepsback,workingthebuttonsofhisshirtbeforeheslipsitoff,revealinghisbroadchest,hisimpeccablychiseledtorso,thatdeepVthatleadsatrailofrawdesirerightdowntowhereitdisappearsintohispants.
“WhatamIthinkingrightnow?”
“Thatyouwanttocome,”herepliessimply,ditchinghispantsonthefloor.Hisboxerbriefsfollowquickly,andaheadyneedunfurlsinmybellyashiskneeshitthemattress.“Aroundmyfingers,onmytongue.Allovermycock.”
Mytongueglidesacrossmylowerlipasmyheartbeatsettlesbetweenmythighs,andsomethingrawandferalsqueezesinmythroatasheprowlstowardme.Hehookshisfingersinthewaistbandofmypantsanddragsthemdownmylegs.Hisroughpalmscrapesovermytorso,coveringmybreast,squeezing.Amomentlater,thesweaterI’mwearingisontheground,leavingmenakedandexposed.
There’ssomethingabouttheheatstackedbehindhisgaze,sodark,sostarved,thatmakesithardtobreathewhenhelooksatme.
Ireachforhim,tryingtoguidehimupmybody,buthispalmlandsonmycollarbone,forcingmebackward.
“Ah-ah,prettygirl.”Tenderlipsfindthedelicateskinofmyinnerthigh,tasting.“Youhaven’tansweredmyquestionyet.”
Fuck.Whatwasthequestionagain?
Hetrailsthetipofhisfingerupmyslit,ghostingoverit,andmyheadfallsbackwithamoanwhenhegrazesmyclit.
“God,yes.”
“Yes?IsthatyouranswerorareyousimplylettingmeknowyouenjoythewayItouchyou?”Hishalf-liddedgazeholdsmineashistonguetracesaroundmyachingcenter,makingitcrampwithneed.“Bemorespecific,Ollie.Areyoumine?”
Hesinksonefingerinsideme,achinglyslow,andallthoughtsleavemybrain.“Yes,”Icry.“Yes,I’myours.”
“Ding,ding,ding,”hewhispers.“Rightanswer.”
Mybackarches,headfallingtothemattresswhenheburieshisfacebetweenmylegs.HisnameleavesmylipsoverandoveragainasIyankhishair.
Hismouthisawetdream,histonguealethalweapon,andI’mreadytoletthismandestroyme.
AndohGod,doesheeverdoitwell.Thrustingfingers,grazingteeth,andawickedtonguethatneverquits,Icomeundonewithanexplosiveorgasmthatleavesmylegsquaking.
NotuntilCartercrawlsupmybodydoIrealizehishandsaretrembling.
Catchingmybreath,Istrokehischeek.“What’swrong?”
“Ilikeyousomuch,”heblurts.“Ilikeeverythingaboutyou.Isthatright?IsitokaytotellyouhowmuchIlikeyouoramIsupposedtokeepittomyself?Tellyouonceandnevertalkaboutitagain?Tellyoueverysingleday?Idon’tknow,Ollie;I’mnewatthis.AllIknowisIreallywantedtotellyou,andalso,I’msuperfuckingterrified.”Hislidsfallshutwithasharpinhale,hisforeheadrestingagainstmine.Whenhiseyesopen,Inotetheworry,thefear,andI’mgladI’mnotalone.“Idon’twannamessthisup.”
Iturnmyhead,kissingtheinsideofthepalmthatrestsagainstmycheek.“Ilikeyousomuch,too,Carter.AndIdon’tthinkyou’llmessitup.You’realreadysogreatatit.”
Hisfacebrightens.“Yeah?Imean,I’mgreatatmostthings,so—hey!”WhenIdeliverthefirstwhacktohisshoulder,hecapturesmyhandandpinsitabovemyhead.“HitagainandI’lltiethesehandsbehindyourback,”hewhispersagainstmylip.“IhavenoideawhatI’mdoing,Ollie.”
Idon’teither.I’vebeenintwoseriousrelationships,andthoughbothlastedoverayear,I’veneverfeltwhatIfeelforCarter.Thisintensitythatvibratesbetweenus,themagnetismthatdrawsuscloserandcloser,it’sasconfusingasitisaddicting.You’renotsupposedtofallthisquickly.
Cartershiftsmeontomysideandsettlesbehindme,hishandonmyhip,lipsonmyneck.“You’resobeautiful,Ollie.”
MygiggleismoreanxiousthanI’dlike.Myfeelingsarecomingonstrongforthisman,atfullspeed,andIdon’tknowhowtoslowdown.Ican’tfindapausebutton,andit’sdaunting.
“Slowandsteadytonight,’kay?Ijustwannafeelyou.”Carterliftsmyleg,thetipofhiscockslidingalongmyslit.Igripthesheetsashestartspushingin,andhisfingerslacethroughmine.Hismouthsweepsdownmyneck,acrossmyshoulder,teethpressingintomyskinasherockshishipsagainstmine.“Everyinchofyou.It’sallmyfavorite.You’remyfavorite.Myprincess.”
There’sthatdamngiggleagain.“Thatnicknameisridiculous,butIthinkIloveit.”
Hesmilesagainstmyneckandreleasesmyhandtorunhisfingersupthelengthofmyarm,thendownmyside.Fingertipsdigintomyhipashispacequickens,eachthrustdeeperandmorepowerfulthanthelast.Mymouthopenswithagaspwhenhestrokesthetightbundleofnervesatthecleftofmythighs.
“Youwantanotherone?Whataboutpumpkin?How’boutit,Liv?Youwannabemypumpkinpie?”
“You’retoomuch.”Ibarelymanageaneyeroll,andCarterswallowsmybreathylaughwithhismouth.
“Ithinkyouwannabemypumpkin.”
“Iwannabeyouranything.”
Hishandglidesupmybelly,betweenthevalleyofmybreasts,beforeitclosesovermythroat.Heanglesmyfacetowardhis,neverslowinghismovements.“Howaboutmyeverything?”
Myheartstopsbeatingatthosesimplewords.Carterdoesn’tdaretearhisgazeoffmine,thewaythoseeyesarewatchingmesointimidating,penetrating,ashekeepsmoving,drivingforward,panting.Hisforeheadcreasesashiseyessqueezeshutforonlythebriefestmomentbeforehismouthdevoursmineinakisssofierce,sohungry,Ifeelitrightdowntothetipsofmytoes.
Hisnameleavesmymouthacry,andheburiesmineinmyneckwhentheworldshattersaroundus.
Cartercrushesmetohim,foldingmeinhisarmswhileIstruggletocatchmybreath.It’sonepartsoul-crushingorgasm,butmostlythefeelingsIhaveforhimthataresuffocatingmerightnow.Iburytheminmythroat,andmyfaceinhisheavingchest.
Agrumblefillstheair,comingfromhisstomach,andherollsontopofme.“IhatetoruinthismomentbutI’mhungryagain.”
“Youareabottomlesspit.Imadeblueberrymuffins.They’reinthe—”
Heleapsoffthebedwithasqueal—yes,asqueal—andIwatchhisbareassdisappearintothehallwayfasterthanI’veeverseenthismanmovewhenhe’snotonskates.Hereturnsthirtysecondslaterwithhischeeksandhandsfull.“Found’em.”
“—pantry.Wow.Threemuffins,huh?”
“Four,”hemumbles,pointingathischipmunkcheeks.Heswallows,offeringonetome.“One’sforyou.”Hepullsitbackintohischest.“Unlessyoudon’twantit.ThenI’lleatit.”
“Carter—”
“Yeah.”Hisheadbobsashekneelsonthebed,tearingonemuffinapart.“You’reright.Sharingiscaring.”HestuffsapiecebetweenmylipsbeforeIcanobjectandthenflopsontohisback,legshangingovertheedge.“Yourbedistoosmallforme.”
“Itfitsmejustright.”
“That’sbecauseyou’repint-sized.”
“Andyou’remonster-sized.”
Helooksdownathiscrotch,swivelinghiships,makingmyfavoriteofhismusclesdance.“Hearthat,bigguy?We’remonster-sized.”
Ishakemyhead.“WhatinthehellhaveIgottenmyselfinto?”
Hechuckles.“DidyourkidsgiveyouanymoretroubleafterMonday?”
Pouting,Isnuggleintothisside.“Oneofmyboyscalledmeapuckbunny.”
“Hesuredid,andyoulithimthehellupforit.Iknewyoucouldbackallthatsassup.”Hisfingerstrailaslowpathupanddownmyspine.“Everythingelsegookay?Emsaidsomethingaboutyourbrotherbeingupset.”
“It’sfine.”Iplacemypalmoverhisstomach,feelingthecordedmusclesthatripplebeneaththesizzlingsurfaceofhisskin.
“Ollie.Behonestwithme.Please.”
Sighing,Itiltmyhead,meetinghisgaze.“Hewasn’thappyatfirst.Hewantedmetostopseeingyou.”Hisbodytenses.“ButIexplainedittohim.Andhewas…It’sokaynow.”
“Isit?”
Ipressmylipstohiscollarboneandnod.“Hewantsmetobehappy.”
“Andareyou?Happy?”
MycheekshurtwiththegrinIgracehimwith.“Whatdoyouthink?”
Hisowngrinisdetonating,explodingacrosshisfaceashishandskimsmyjaw,bringingmylipstohis.“IthinkIloveyoursmilemorethananythinginthisworld.”
Carterrollstohissideandhitstheswitchonthelampbeforepullingmeintohim,coveringusinblankets.He’sright:Idon’tneedlayersandlayersofclothestokeepmewarm.AllIneedishimandthefirethatfuelsinmybellywhenhe’swithme.
Hislipstouchmyneck,myear,mycheekashesingssoftly,thosesamewordshesangtomebackinDecemberwhileheheldmeinhisarmsandspunmearoundacrowdeddancefloor.
“I’msoluckytobethemanwhogetstokeepyoubyhisside,Ollie.”Buryinghisfaceinmyneck,Cartermakesasoft,happynoise.“Goodnight,pumpkin.Likeyou.”
“Likeyou,too,Carter.”
***
It’sonlyseveninthemorningandmyThursdayisalreadyshapinguptobeasfantasticasmyWednesdaynight,becauseCarter’sbodyisstillwoundaroundmine.
“No,”hegrowls,thickandhuskyasItrytoslipoutofhisholdwhenmyalarmgoesoff.Hishandclosesovermythroat,haulingmebacktohim,andhethrowsalegoverme,aquiethumofsatisfactionrumblingfromhischest.“Youstaywithme.”
“Ihavetogotowork,Carter.”
Longfingersskimdownmybelly,pushingtheirwaybetweenmythighs.“Youfeelhot.Sickday.”
Iturninhisarmsandkisshissleepyface,hiseyesstillclosed,darklashesrestingagainsthischeekbones.“I’msorry.Youkeepsleeping.I’llleavemysparekeyinthekitchen.”
“CanIeatmoremuffins?”
“Areyougonnaeatthemall?”
Hesighs.It’saresignedsigh,butpleased,likehe’shappyIknowhimwellenoughtoaskthequestion.“Yeah.WecanmakemorethisweekendwhenIkeepyouforthreedays.”
IthinkCarter’sasleepwhenI’mreadytoleaveahalfhourlater,soIdon’tbothersayinggood-bye.That’samistake;hescreamsmynamefromthebedwhenIopenthefrontdoor.
Ileanagainstthebedroomdoor.“Yourang,sir?”
Hisarmsreachabovehim,andhecurlshisfingersintohispalms.“Needahugandakiss.”
Whenhisarmscomearound,hugascrushingasitalwaysis,kisshotenoughtoupmybodytemperature,I’mconsideringtakingthatsickdayafterall.Butthenhereleasesme,turningmearoundandgivingmeapatonmybutt.
“Haveagoodday,pumpkin.”Herollshimselfintoaperfectburrito,mutteringtohimselfaboutthesizeofmybedandtheungodlytemperatureinmyhouse.
MydayonlygetsbetterwhenI’mcalleddowntotheofficeshortlyafternoontofindthelimodriverwhogavemearidehomefromtheengagementpartylastweekendwaitingwithabrownbagthatsmellsdelicious.Insideisatake-outcontainerfilledwithbaconcarbonarafromanexpensiveItalianrestaurant,andasliceofchocolatecheesecaketoppedwithanOreo.
WhenIgethomefromwork,itsmellsdifferent.Thatsoundsweird,Iknow,butitdoes.Maybeit’sCarterhavingbeenhere,ormaybeit’smebeingcrazy.Eitherway,IsmiletomyselfasItakeoffmycoatandheadtothekitchen
Ihaltinthedoorway,gapingatthebrightdisplayonmycounter.Pink,orange,andyellowtulipsfillaglassvase.Thenotesittingnexttothemhasmystomachsomersaulting.
Prettyandbright,justlikeyou.
Can’twaittowakeupwithyouthisweekend.
Likeyoulots,
Carter
Ifanatmyface,tryingtodispersetheheatrushingtoitrightnow.Whenthatdoesn’twork—I’mfreakingsweatingrightnow—Iunzipmysweaterandtossitintomybedroom.ButI’mstillhot,soIstartpullingmyleggingsovermyhipsand—
WhyamIhot?
IslinkovertothethermostatlikeI’mafraidtolookatit.Ikindofam
Seventy-two.It’sseventy-fucking-twodegreesinhere.Quitethestarkcontrastfromthefrigidairthat’sbeencirculatingforthepastseveraldays.
IgethalfwaydownthebasementstairsbeforeIturnandrunupthemagain.TwomoretriesbeforeIfinallymakeitdown.Igripmythroat,handshakingontherailingasIgawk.
I’mgawkingatmybasement.
Specifically,I’mgawkingattheshiny,brand-newfurnacethatabsolutely,110percentwasnotherethismorning.CHAPTER29DON’TPOKETHECRAZYLADYCARTER
I’vebeensittinginthesameplaceforthelastthirty-sevenminutes.NotthatI’mcountingoranything.Ishouldn’tbesurprised.Thisisthenorminthishouseholdandhasbeenmyentirelife.
Butstill,Igroan,runningtwoaggravatedhandsthroughmyhairbeforedraggingthemdownmyfaceinslowmotion.
“Mommm,comeonnn,”Ibeg,slumpingagainstthecouch.“Let’sgooo.”
“I’mnotdoneputtingmyfaceon,Carter!”sheshoutsback.
“Youdon’tneedaface.Yourfaceisperfect.”I’dtellhershewasBeyoncérightnowifit’dgetherassouthere.ExceptI’vetried;itdoesn’twork.
Floppingdown,Ithrowonelegoverthebackofthecouch,theotherrestingonthefloor.“Idon’tunderstandwhyyoucan’tbereadywhenyoutellmeyou’llbeready.”
Momisfamouslylateforeverything.Jennie’sbad,too,butMomisonawholeotherlevel.Dadusedtothrowheroverhisshoulderandcartheroutofthehouse,whichispreciselywhyItoldherJennie’srecitalstartsatfive,not5:30likeitactuallydoes.Alittlewhiteliegoesalongwayinensuringwe’reontimeforabsolutelyanythingthatrequiresleavingthehouse.
“AndIdon’tunderstandwhyyoustillexpectmetobereadywhenItellyouI’mgoingtobe!Youshouldknowmebetterbynow.”
Shesticksherheadintothelivingroom.She’sgotmascaraonherlefteyeonly,makingitlooktentimesbiggerthantheright.Imakeafaceandcoweraway.Sherollshereyesandflipsmethebirdbutdropshermascarawandintheprocess.
“Karma,”Imurmur,earningmyselfaflicktotheforeheadandatugonmyear.Iswatmyhandaround,butsherunsdownthehall,cackling.
“Onemoreminute,”shesings.
IsighbecauseIdon’tbelieveher.Pullingoutmyphone,IdowhatI’vebeenavoidingforthelasthour:openmymessageswithOlivia.
Ihaven’theardfromhersincelunchtime,andhermessagethenincludedamassivethank-you,ashittonofheartsandhappyfaces,andthenapictureoftheemptytrayofpasta,finishedwithapictureofherlickinganOreo.Thatlastpictureisnowhercontactpicture.
ButshefinishedworkatthreeandIstillhaven’theardfromher.I’mdyingtoknowifshefoundthegiftsIleftheryet.
Ilaymyphoneonmychestandfoldmyarmsbehindmyhead,crossingmyfeetatmyankles.IfIhavetospendmydayswaitingonwomen,Imightaswellgetcomfy.
Myeyespopopenwhenmyphonestartsvibratingonmychest.ThepictureofOlivialickinghercookieshinesonmyscreenandIscrambleuptositting.
“Hi,Olliegirl.”Iflashhermybestgrinbutitquicklytransformsintoafrownathersadexpression.“What’swrong?Kidsgotyoudown?”
There’sacrashsomewherebehindme,andthreesecondslatermymomcomesskiddingintothelivingroom,breathless,botheyesfinallydone.ShepointsatmyphoneandmouthsOlivia?It’sOlivia?Thenshejumpsupanddown,coveringhermouthwithbothhands.
She’sfifty-two,incaseanyone’swonderingwhethermymomis,infact,anadult.
Ismooshmyphoneintomychest.“Really?That’swhatgetsyourassoutthedoor?”
Sheonlygrins,settlingonthefloor,legscrossedasshestaresupatmewithwide,innocenteyes.She’sunbelievableandso,sonosy.
“No,”Oliviasaysintomychest.Ipullmyphonebacktofindherrubbingatoneeye.“Well,notreally.Yourtypicalshortjokesandallthat.”Shewavesdismissivelybeforesighing,pullingherbottomlipbetweenherteethasshelooksatherlap.“Carter.Wehavetotalk.”
“Uh-oh,”Imusewithachuckle.“Someone’sintrouble.”Ibalkattheunimpressedlookonherface.“Thatwasstupid.Idon’tknowwhyIsaidthat.It’sme.I’mintrouble.”
I’mluckyOliviafindsmygoofinessendearing,becauseatleastIgetthetwitchofhermouthwhenshetriesnottosmile.Icountitawin,likeIdoeverytimeshefailsatbeingmadatme.ButIwanttoseethatfullbeam,feelthewayitlightsmeuplikesunshine.
SoIpullmydimplesinandtryagain.“Youlookgorgeous.Sogorgeous.Flawless,really,butyoualwaysare.”Igestureatmyhairbeforepoppingmychinonmyknuckles.“Didyoudosomethingnewtoyourhair?Suitsyou.You’rethebestgirlfriendoutofallthegirlfriendsI’veeverhad.Myfavorite.”
ThosemochaeyesnarrowdangerouslybeforeOliviatipsforwardwithalaugh.Mymom’sbouncingaroundonherass,handsclaspedbeneathherchin.Iholdmyfootout,tryingtoshoveheraway.Itdoesn’twork;she’stoopersistent.
“I’mtheonlygirlfriendyou’veeverhad,”Oliviamanagesthroughagiggle.
“Right.”Charminggrin?Check.“’Causeyou’remyfavorite.”
Hereyerollisoneofmyfavoritethingsabouther,becauseIlovehersass,herfeistiness.Oliviaworkssodamnhardtokeepthatoversensitivesidetuckedinside,butIseeit.
“Whyismyhousesowarm?”shefinallyasks,playingwiththatplumplowerlip.
Irunapalmovermyproud,puffed-upchest.“I’msureI’dhavenoideaaboutthat.”
Sheblinksupatme.“Carter,youboughtmeafurnace.”
Mymombecomesacat,clawingatmylegs,nailsdigginginhardenoughtowarrantasilentscreamfrommeasIhidemyphoneandkeelover,pushingheroffme.
“Furnace?”Momwhisper-yells.“Youboughtherafurnace?”Sheclapsherhandstenthousandtimes.“Iknewyou’dbeagiantsuck!”
“Shutup,”Ihiss,tossingapillowatherface.Shedodgesit,pickingitupandclutchingittoherchestwhileshegrinslikeafool.She’swaytooinvestedinmylovelife.
IturnbacktoOlivia.It’samistake.Ormaybethefurnacewasamistake.
“Ohshit.”Thosebrowneyesturnthemostinterestingshadeofhazel,shiningwithhintsofgoldandmossysageastheywidenandfillwithtears.“Baby,no.Pleasedon’tcry.Whyareyoucrying?”There’snothingIcandotohelpOliviawhenshe’sstuckinsidemyphone,andmymomclearlythinksit’shilarious.“Idon’tknowwhattodo.Areyouokay?Doyouneedmetocomeover?Helpme,”Ibegmybeautiful,sensitivegirl.
“Ican’taffordtopayyoubackrightnow,”Oliviacries,swattingathercheeks.Sheburiesherfacebehindacouchcushionwhenhertearsdon’tslow.“I’llsetupapaymentplan,”Ithinkshemumbles.Hardtotellwhenshe’ssmotheringherfacelikethat.
Mymom’srockingbackandforthontheground,clappingatmyknees.Iloveher,shemouths.Ipushherawaywithmyhandonherface.
“Idon’twantorneedyoutopaymeback.It’sagift.Andtakethatpillowoffyourface.”
Oliviaripsitaway.“Agiftforwhat?It’snotChristmas!AndyougotmeaChristmasgiftandIgotyounothing!Iranoutonyou!”
“Birthday?”Itry.It’salittletooearlytoclaimValentine’sDay,butthebirthdaycardisweakashell.IdistinctlyrememberOliviatellingmesheturnedtwenty-fiveinOctober.
“Mybirthday’sinOctober!”She’scryinghardernow.
Definitelywould’vebeenbetteroffclaimingearlyValentine’sDay.
“Iwantedtodosomethingniceforyou.Iwantedtogiveyousomethingyouweren’tabletogiveyourselfrightnow.Icouldn’tstandthethoughtofyoubeingsocold.”
Shewipesthebackofherhandacrosshereyes,hiccupping.
“Ifyourcutelittletoesfrozeoff,Idon’tknowwhatI’ddowithmyself.”
“Idon’twantyoutothinkI’musingyouforyourmoney.”
“Idon’tknowhowIcouldpossiblythinkthat.It’sagift.Justacceptit.”
“Nobody’severdoneanythinglikethisformebefore.”
Sheshouldprobablygetusedtoit,’causeIthinkI’mgonnaspoiltheshitoutofher.
“Ididn’twantyoutobesocold,pumpkin.”
Shemeltsatthenickname,cheekstintingcrimson,finallygrantingmethatsmileI’vebeendyingfor.“Thankyousomuch,Carter.I…you’re…Iwanttohugyou,”shefinallysettleson.
“OhmyGod!”Momshoutsout,collapsingdramaticallyontoherback.Shespringsoffthefloorandpouncesonme.“Ican’thelpit!She’sadorable!”
“Mom!”
Apowerstrugglepromptlyensuesasshetriestostealmyphone.Anelbowsoarsthroughtheair,hammeringmeinthenoseasshethrowsherselfovermylapandgrabsformyphone.
“Ijust…wanna…say…hi!Gimmethephone,Carter!”
“Getyourgrabbyhandsouttahere!”
Imanagetogetaholdofoneflail-yarmandpinitbehindherback.Shehuffsoutaheavybreath,blowingherbangsoffherforeheadwithherfamousmom-scowl.TheanxiousgigglecomingfrommyphonehasbothofourheadsturningtofindOliviawatchinguswithcuriousamusement.
“Iwashopingtoholdoffonthecrazytrainintroductionsalittlelonger,”Itellher,wincingwhenmymomflicksmeinthetemple.“YoualreadymetHank;it’sonlyamatteroftimebeforesomeonescaresyouaway.”
Momgasps,freeingherhandfromminetopressittoherchest.“YouintroducedhertoHankbeforeme?”Shejerksmyphoneoutofmyhandandsmilessoftly.“Hi,Olivia.It’ssowonderfultomeetyou,evenifit’sonlyoverthephone.”
“Hi,Mrs.Beckett,”Oliviasayswithabashful,wobblysmile.“I’msorry.Whataterriblefirstimpression.I’mnotusuallythisemotional.”
Myaccidentalsnortearnsmeanotherglare,thisonefrommygirlfriend.
“Don’tworry,honey.”Momthumbsatme.“ThisonecriedateverysingleDisneymovie.He’salwaysbeenabigsoftie.”
“Anyonewhodidn’tcrywhenthatoldladydroveTodouttotheforestandlefthimthereisamonster.”
Idon’tknowhowithappens,butnotaminutelatermymom’salreadyaskedOliviawhatherplansareforEasterandifshe’llbejoiningusonourfamilytriptoGreecethissummer.
“Okay,Mom,saybyyye.”Idon’tgiveherachancetodoso,grabbingthephonefromherhandandlockingmyselfinthebathroom.Sinkingdowntotheedgeofthetub,Irunahandalongmyjaw.“So,thatjusthappened.”
Oliviasnickers.“IfyourfamilyhadaTVshow,I’dwatchit.”
“We’dbethenextKardashians,andI’dbeKim,obviously.”Ismileatthewayhereyescrinklewithherlaugh.“Areyouupsetwithme?Aboutthefurnace?MaybeIdidn’tthinkitthrough.”
WhenIwokeupaloneearlierthismorning,mynipplesweresharpenoughtocutice,myballstryingtheirdamnedesttocrawlupinsideme.Ihadaheatingcompanyonthephonesixminuteslaterandpaidanobsceneamountofmoneytogetthemouttheretoday.Icouldn’thelpmyself;thethoughtofOliviasocoldinherownhomedoesn’tsitrightwithme.IwanttotakecareofherhoweverIcanandI’mluckyenoughtobeinasituationthatallowsmetodothat.
“I’mnotupsetwithyou,Carter.I’mjustshocked.Firstlunch,andthentheflowersandthenote,andnowthis.It’ssuchabiggift.Areyousureyoudon’twantmetopayyouback?Icanputasidealittlefromeachpaycheckand—”
“Noway.Frommetoyou.That’swhatagiftis.”
ShesnifflesandI’mworriedshe’sgoingtocryagain.I’mnotgoodwithtears.Theymakemefeelhelplessandoverwhelmed.
“Thankyousomuch,Carter.I’msorryIwroteyouoffwhenwefirstmet.”
“Don’tbe.”I’dbelyingifIsaidIwishshehadn’t.Wecould’vebeenscrewinglikerabbitsandlovingoneachotherallthistime.“Thingshappenthewaytheydoforareason.Ifyouhadn’tshotmedown,thisheremightnothavebeen.Imight’vehadyouonceandletyougo.”ThoughIhighlydoubtit.“Ialreadycan’timaginemylifewithoutyouinit.”
Herbottomlipdoesanalmostimperceptibletremble.“Stopit.”
“Stopwhat?”
“Beingso…”Shewindsherhandinacircularmotionlikeshe’ssearchingfortherightword.“Perfect.”
Oh,hello.Mychestpuffswithpride.“That’swhytheycallme.Mr.Perfect.”
Myfavoritechocolateeyesdoadramaticroll.“You’reluckyyourcutenessoverridesyoursmugness.”
“Youmakemefeelsmug.”Myphonebuzzeswithmywarning,theonethattellsmeIneedtogetmymom’sassingear.“I’msorry,Ollie.Igottagetgoing.Callyoutonight?”
Shenods.“I’mgonnagothroughmyclosetandthrowoutallmyholeysweatsandlongjohnsnowthatI’mnotlivinginthetundra.”
Iheadtothefrontdoorwheremymom’sputtinghershoeson,thankfuck.“That’scool.You’renotgonnaneedthemanymoreanyway.We’regonnasleepnakedsoIcantouchyouallnightlong.”
“Oh,Carter,forheaven’ssakes.”Momfrowns,handsonherhips.“Can’tyoukeepitsweetformorethantwominutes?”
“Yousaidthatinfrontofyourmom?”Oliviaburiesherfacebehindonehand.“Carter!”
Iwink.“Bye,pumpkinpie.Likeyoulots.”
Herblushampsallthewayuptotenbeforeshemumblesoutherresponse,andwhenIclickmyphoneoffandshoveitinmypocket,mymom’sgivingmethehearteyes.
Islipmyfeetintomyboots.“CanIhelpyou?”
“Pumpkinpie?”
“Yeah,whatever.”
“Youhavenicknamesforyourgirlfriend.”
Igruntinresponse.
Mompokesmychest.“Don’tgruntatme.”
Igruntagainjusttopissheroff,exceptithastheoppositeeffectandnowshe’sgotthislittlesmirkgluedtoherface,oneprettydamnsimilartomine.
“Carterloveshisgirlfriend,Carterloveshisgirlfriend,”shesings.
Tippingmyheadback,Iforceoutanexhalethatlastsasolidtenseconds.“Allright.That’senoughwithyou.I’mpullingaDad.”
“Carter,don’tyoud—ah!”HershriekturnsintoafitofgiggleswhenIhaulheroffherfeetandtossherovermyshoulderlikeshe’sasackofpotatoes,thewaymydadalwaysdid,herlaughthesame.“Iloveyou,honey.”
“Iloveyou,too,crazylady.”
***
“Ican’tstandhim.”
“Carter.”Mynameisaflashingcautionsignonmymom’stongue.“Watchit.”
Ithrowonehandup,gesturingatthewaythatdouchebagishandlingmylittlesister.“Ihatethewayhetouchesher.Likehefuckingownsherorsomething.”
Momsmacksmeinthetorso.“They’redancing.”
“Notanymore!Theshowendedthirtyminutesago!”IplasteronafakesmileasJennieandherdancepartnermovethroughthecrowdtowardus.Assoonasshe’scloseenough,Iyankheroutofhisgrasp,envelopingherinmyarms.“Youwereawesome,Jennie.”
Momrocksherbackandforthinasuffocatinghold,andthesecondshereleasesher,Jennie’spartnerswoopsbackin,wrappinghisstupidarmaroundherwaist.JenniewatchesthewaymygazezeroesinonhishandonherstomachandsnickersbeforeclearingherthroatandsteppingawayfromMr.TwinkleToes.
“Wasn’tshebeautifulouttheretonight,Carter?”DouchebagSimonsaystome.
“Shealwaysis.”Steppingbetweenthem,Iangleherawayfromhim.“Youshouldgosolo.”
“Ihadasoloperformanceinthefirsthalf.”Jenniesqueezesmyhandinwarning.“Remember?”
“Yeah,butpermanently.Youshouldditchpairs.”Ileanintoher,whispering,“Jerkwad’sbringingyoudown.”
Shepretendstohugme.“Youjusthatehim.”
“You’redamnrightIdo,”Iaccidentallysaytooloud.ItwistbacktoSimon.“Whoyouhookingupwithtonight,Steve?”OliviathinksI’msweetbutI’mkindofadicksometimes.IfIdon’tlikeyou.AndIdon’tlikeSimon,whichiswhyIsometimes,occasionally,callhimbythewrongname.Hefuckseverygirlhedanceswithandhe’shadhissightssetonmysisterforfouryears.
“Icouldaskyouthesamething,”hereplieswithasmilesoself-assuredIwanttopunchitoffhisface.
“Ihaveagirlfriend.”
“Right.SoI’veheard.”Hecheckshisfingernails.“Can’tbeallthatserious,knowingyourhistory.”
MyjawticksasIspeakthroughmyteeth.“It’sserious.”
“Okay.”Jennieclapsherhands.“I’mstarving.Dinner?”
“Wouldyouliketojoinus,Simon?”Momasks,thenrefusestomeetmyscowl.
“Oh,I’dlove—”
“No!”Jenniecutshimoff.IloveJennie.Shesmilessweetlyathim.“Nottonight,Simon.I’dlikesomealonetimewithmyfamily.”
ThesmirkIhithimwithissmuggerthanit’severbeen,andIloopmyarmthroughmysister’sandpullheraway,leavingSimonstandingtherelikeanidiotwithhisjawhanging.
“AsmuchasIlovethismacho,overprotectivebrotherbullshit,”Jenniestarts,“I’dpreferyoudidn’tkillmydancepartnerbeforeIgraduate.”
“Ishefreereinaftergraduation?”Iasksemiseriously,leadingmymomandsisterthroughtheparkinggarage.
“Icouldn’tcarelesswhatyoudotoSimonSyphilisonceI’vegotmydegreeinmyhand.”
“Oh,fortheloveof—”Momshakesherhead.“Youtwoareridiculous.”
IknowIdefinitelyam,becausewhenIdropthemofftwohourslaterandamaloneinmycar,I’minthesamepositionIwasinlastnightafterIgotofftheplane.Drummingmyfingersontheheatedsteeringwheel,IhesitateforonlyamomentbeforeIthrowthecaringearandheadintheoppositedirectionofwhereI’msupposedtobegoing.
Tenminuteslater,I’mstandinginfrontofOlivia’sdark,quiethouse.IshouldprobablycallherbutinsteadIraisethekeysheleftmethismorningtothedoorandstickitinthelock.ItcreeksasitopensandIstepinside,quicklyshuttingoutthecold.Adimlightflicksonfromherbedroomdowntheshorthallway.
“Hello?”Olivia’shesitantvoicecalls.It’sfollowedbyascuffle,aloudbang,andthenaquietfuckme.Fivesecondslater,shepokesherheadoutofthedoorwayfromherspotonthefloor.Thebrightestbeambloomswhenshespotsme.“Carter.”
“Whatareyoudoingonthefloor,crazygirl?”Ihelphertoherfeet,smilingattheblanketthat’stangledbetweenherlegs.Idon’tknowwhatinthehellshe’sdoingtokeepgettingwrappedinthisthingthatrefusestoletgo.KindafeelslikeagoodeuphemismforhowIfeelaboutholdingontoher.
Sheflingsherarmsaroundmeandsmashesherfaceintomychest.“Ididn’tknowyouwerecomingoveragain.”
“NeitherdidI,”Iadmit,strokingahanddownhercurls.SherestsherchinonmychestandIdropmylipstohernose.“Kindajusthappened.Again.”
“Areyousureyou’renotheretoreturnmykey?”
“Nope.”Iswingherupintomyarms.“ThoughtI’dcheckonthenewfurnace.Andyournewbedtimeoutfit,apparently.”Droppinghertothebed,Itrailonefingerdownherthigh,stoppingatherankle.She’sinonlyapairofpurpleboyshortpantiesandalooseT-shirtthatshowsoffonecreamyshoulder.“I’mabigfan.”
Itugmyclothesoffandclimbintobedbehindher.Slippingahandbeneathhershirt,Icoverherwarmstomachandinhalehersmell.She’smyfavoritescent,liketheSundaymorningsmymomusedtospendbakingmuffinsforourschoollunches.Shesmellslikethemostintoxicatingversionofhome,andI’maddictedtothefeelingthatcomeswithit.
“Youmustknowyou’renevergettingthatkeyback.It’sminenow.Alreadyonmyring.”
“Youcanhaveit,”shewhispersasIpullhershirtoverherhead.
“Good,’causeIwasn’tasking.”
Myfingersdipintoherpanties,makinghermoan,andherhairticklesmyskin.
“Youneveraskforanything,”sherasps,buckingagainstmyhandasIpushtwofingersinsideher.
“Nah,onlyforyoutobemine.”
Herhandcurvesovermynapeassheanglesherfacetowardmine,beggingforakiss.Igiveittoher,becauseIalwayswill.“I’myours.”
MymouthtiltsasIlookdownatmystunninggirl.HereyessqueezeshutwithamoanasIsinkinsideher.Takingherchinbetweenmyfingers,Isilentlybeghertolookatmeagain.Thefeelingthatfloodsmychestandoverwhelmsmyentirebodywhenshedoesisdizzying.
Olivia’ssoftlipsmeetmychin,trailingupmyjawuntilshefindsthecornerofmymouth.“Myheart’sneverfeltashappyasitdoesrightnow.”
Herwordstumbletenderlyoffhertongue,andIemptyeverythingIhaveintothiswomanmyheartbeatsfor.CHAPTER30DON’TPOKETHEFUCKINGBEAREITHERCARTER
WhatkindofcelebrationdowethinkOliviawillenjoybestwhenIscoreforhertonight?Theobviousanswerisasneakywinkinherdirection,butshechoseme,soshehastoknowshechoseflash.Idoeverythingwithflair,notintheshadows
ExceptOlivia,forobviousreasons.Idoherintheshadows.ThoughIliketothinkIdoherwithflair,aswell…
Nabbingaloosepuck,IfireitofftheboardsasIscantheseatsbehindtheteambench,searchingforOlivia.Hercoatisdrapedoverherseat,nexttoCara’s,soIknowthey’realreadyhere.
“Wordonthestreetisyouboughtyourgirlafurnace.”Emmetthipchecksmeintotheboardsandstealsthepuckoffme,twistingandhammeringitofftowardanunsuspectingAdam,whoseblockergoesupjustintimetodeflectitfromthenet.
Garrettchokesonair.“Pardon?Afurnace?”
“Herhousewasfuckingfreezing,”Imutter,pullingapuckfrombetweenhislegs.IflipitontothetipofmystickandEmmettwhacksitoffbeforeIcanshowoff.
“Abrand-newfurnace,”Garrettmuses,rubbinghisjawwithhisglovedfingers.“Huh.Wesureshe’snotusingyouforyourmoney?”HeshutsuprealfastwhenEmmettandIsandwichhimbetweenthetwoofusandtheboards.“Okay,okay!Iwasjoking!”
“Eh!Boys!Saveitfortheotherteam!”
MyheadliftsatCara’svoiceasIreleaseGarrett,andIgrinlikeatotalloserwhenImeetOlivia’sentertainedgaze.IshoveEmmettoutofthewayonourwaytothebench,andhopovertheboards,slappingmyglovesagainsttheplexiglassasOliviamakesherwaydowntheaisle.HerVipersteeisskintight,showingoffaninchofskinabovethewaistofthosepainted-onjeans,thelittlegeminherbellybuttonpeekingoutwhensheadjustshercoatbeforesitting.
“Ah-ah-ah,”Itsk.“Gimmeaspin,gorgeous.”IhadthisshirtwaitingforherinthelimoIsenttopickherupforthegame.IknowsheknowsIwannaseewhat’sontheback.
Hercheeksturnanadorableshadeofrosypink.“Carter.”
Ismile,twirlingmyfingerintheair.Oliviarollshereyesandholdsherhandsaboveherhead—bagofpopcorninone,beerintheother—showingoffthemostspectacularbackside.Iresisttheurgetobitemyknuckles,onlybecausemyglovesstink,butgoddamn,that87andBeckettdecoratingherbackarereallydoingsomethingforme.
Ipressmyvisoragainsttheglass.“I’msohardrightnow.”
“Beckett!”Coachshakesmyhelmet.“Stopflirtingwithyourgirlfriendandgetyourassbackontheiceforwarm-up!”
“JusttellingheraboutthegoalI’mgonnascoreher.”
AllIwanttodoisshowoffformygirlandIknowshelovesit,evenifshe’srollinghereyesatmostofmyridiculousantics.
Threeminutesintothesecondperiod,Garrettjumpsontheiceamomentbeforeme,grabbingthepuckasitslicesacrosstheredline.HecallsmynameasIleapovertheboards,andItapmystickontheicethreetimestolethimknowI’mhere.ThepuckhitsthecurvedbladeofmystickwithoutanyeffortfromGarrett,hiseyesbouncingbetweenthenetandthedefensemanwho’sabouttogetinhisface.
“Onyourheels,Beckett!”Emmetthollersfrommyleft,alertingmetotheforwardwho’shotonmyass.
Islamonthebreaksandwatchastheleft-wingergoesflyingbymebeforeherealizesI’mnotwithhimanymore.Inthesecondittakeshimtotwistbackaround,Ispinbyhim,lookingformyguys.
“Allyou!”Garrettshoutsfromthesideofthenet,readyforarebound.“Stuffitin,baby!”
MyleftlegslidesbackasIwindup,andmystickhitsthepuckwithacracklikelightning.Silencehangsheavyinthearena,everyfanholdingtheirbreathasIletthatbadboysoar,andwhenitsmacksoffthecrossbarwithadingsolouditechoesbeforefallingdownintothenet,theentirearenaexplodes.
“Bardown,baby!”Ishriek,throwingmyarmsabovemyhead.
“Fuckingsnipeshow,bud!”Emmettroars,tacklingmeintotheboards.
Islipbackward,fallingtotheiceasGarrettpilesontopofus,followedbyourdefensemen.WhenIfinallymakeitbacktomyfeet,IscanthecrowdfortheonlypersonIwanttosee.
Olivia’sonherfeet,clappingandholleringwithCara.HereyesfindmineasIskatebythebench,bumpinggloveswithmyteammates,andsheflashesmeabeambrighterthantheredlightthat’sstillflashingontopofthegoalienet.
ThecameraspanmywaywhenIstopinfrontofher,andhereyeswiden,smileevaporating,replacedbyoneofpurehorrorasshewatchesmystickriseinslowmotion.
Don’tyoudare,Oliviamouths.
ButCara’sjumpingupanddown,shakingOlivia’sshoulders,justdaringmetodoit.
SoIdo.Ipointmystickather,bringmyglovetomylips,andblowOliviathebiggest,loudestsmoochIcanmuster,sendingitoutintothearenaasthecrowdgoesnuts.Hercherryredfacelightsupthejumbotronforthesecondtimeinherlife,becauseI’llneverlearnmylesson.
Ithrowanarmupoverhead,gesturingatthescreenwithmystick.“That’smyfuckingprincess!”IdidsayIdoeverythingwithflare.
TheyreplaymygoalonthebigscreenthreetimesasIleanontheboardsandguzzledownsomewater,chattingwiththeguys.WhenIlineupattheredlinefortheface-off,IsneakanotherpeekatOlivia.She’sgotherfeetupontheglass,sunkenhalfwaybackinherseat,onehandcoveringtoomuchofheroutstandinglygorgeousface.Shenarrowshereyes.TheygetextrasquintyatthegrinIflashher.
“Fuckme.CanIhaveher?”LucasDaley,centermanandassistantcaptainforSeattle,smirksatmeasheglidesinasmallcircle,stickacrosshiships.
“Whatthefuckdidyousay?”
“Whenyou’redonewithher.”HeglancesinOlivia’sdirection.“CanIhaveher?”
MyteethclackwhenIslamthemtogether.“Idon’tplanonbeingdonewithher.”
Hisdisbelievingsnorthasmyneckcrackingasitstrainslefttoright.He’stryingtogetmeriledupandIcan’tletthathappen,especiallywithOliviahere.
“You’vefuckedher,nowI’mwaitingforyoutodowhatyoudobestandchuckher.”
“Fuckoff,Daley,”Emmettflicksoutwithdisinterest.
Daleyliftsanamusedbrow.“Orwhat?Yourbuddyheregonnaknockmeout?”
“Ifyoudon’tstoprunningyourmouth?”Iskateforwarduntilmychesttoucheshis.“Yeah,that’sexactlywhatI’mgonnado.”
Therefpushesanarmbetweenus.“Allright,gentlemen.Enoughofthat.Let’sgetthisshitontheroad.”
Itakemyplaceontheice,shakingofftheangerthat’stumblingoffmyshouldersinwavesasIgetreadyfortheface-offwithDaley.Therefshoveshiswhistlebetweenhislipsandbends,thepuckinhishandhoveringoverthebluedot.
“Jesus,fuckinglookather,wouldyou?”
Withasigh,therefstraightens,scrubbingapalmdownhisface.Ibarelyregisteritoutofthecornerofmyeye.I’mtoofocusedonDaley’sgaze,whichisgluedtomygirlfriend,whohappenstobewatchinguswhileshepullsonherbottomlip.
“She’satiny,sluttylittlepuckbunny,isn’tshe?I’mgonnaripherintwo.”
Thegrowlthattearsupmythroatandsnarlsitswaypastmylipsisn’tevenhuman.BeforeIknowwhat’shappening,myglovesandstickareontheice,fistsballedaroundtheneckofDaley’sjersey,myfaceinhisasIhaulhimclose.
“Sayonemorefuckingwordaboutherandyou’regonnabespittingchiclets.”Mypulsehammersinmyears,chesttighteningasitswellswithrage.I’mavolcano,teeteringontheedgeoferuption.NobodywillbeabletostopmeonceIstart.
AsmuggrinspreadsacrossDaley’sfaceashedropshisstickandtosseshisgloves.
“Keepitcleanandquick,”thereftellsusonanexhale,clearingthespacearoundus.
Theatmosphereinthearenaiscrazed,nothavinghadthechancetocalmdownfromthegoal,hypedupwiththeloomingtussle.Thesefansgowildforfightsandtonightisnodifferent.TheylovewatchingCarterBeckettlosehisshitonoccasion,whichisexactlywhat’sabouttohappen.
DroppingmygriponDaley’sjersey,Ikeepmyfistsupaswestartspinninginaslowcircle.
“Areyouclean?”HisgazeflickstoOlivia.“Don’tliketowrapitwhenIfuckagirlwholookslikethat.Wannafeeleveryinchof—”
Myfistconnectswithhismouth,hisheadsnappingbackward,shuttinghimthehellup.Hesputters,wipingthebloodfromhiscrackedlipbeforehechuckles.
“Shelooksterrified.Thinkshe’sworriedI’mgonnaknockyouonyourass,Beckett?”
Hisarmswingsout,connectingwiththeedgeofmyshoulderwhenIdodgethepunch.HebacksawaywhenIlungeforhim,butIgrabholdofhisjerseyanddraghimrightback.
“You’restilltalking,”Ispit,“butI’mnottheonebleeding.”
DaleytwistsinmygraspwhenIswingathisfaceagain,andItughisjerseyupandoverhishead,knockinghishelmetoffintheprocess.Iletmyfistflyoncemore,crackinghiminthenose.Bloodcoatsmyknucklesanddripsdownhisface,dottingtheice,andhedivesforme,grabbingmyjerseyasthetwoofusgotumblingtotheice.Hisfistflails,crashingagainstthecornerofmymouthasmyhelmetpopsoff,andIignorethesharpstingitbringsasIrollontopofhim.MyhairslapsagainstmyforeheadasIpullmyarmbackandsendmyfistflyingforward,once,twice,threetimes.
“Beckett!Enough!”Therefskatestowardusfromtheright,thelinesmenflankingtheleft.“Up!Bothofyou!It’sover!”
GrippingDaley’sjersey,Iyankhisfacetomine,chestheavingasIseetheout,“Youwon’tfuckingtouchher.”
Ifeelahandonmyback,andasecondlaterGarrett’shoistingmetomyfeet,pushingmedowntherink.“Shit,thatwasfuntowatch.”
Emmetthandsmemyglovesandstick.“Doesn’tlooklikeOlliehadthatmuchfun.”
Iglanceupatherasmypunishmentishandedtomeoverthespeakers:fiveminuteseachformeandDaley.Olivia’sanxiousgazeissetonme,bothkneesbouncing,thetipofherthumbinhermouthlikeshe’sgnawingonhernail
Caralooksalotlikeshejustwatchedthebestmoviewhilesheshovelspopcornintohermouth.Shehitsmewithtwothumbsupandanoversizedgrin.“Fuckingright,Beckett!Knock’emdead,baby!”
Isinktothebenchinthepenaltyboxwithasigh,runningmyfingersthroughmydrenchedhair,pushingitoffmyfacewhenourtrainerjoinsmetocleanmylip.
Chrisdabsatthebloodthat’scakedinthecornerofmymouth.“NeverthoughtI’dseethedaywhereCarterBeckettfoughtoveragirl.”
“Firsttimeforeverything.”Ihissatthestingoftheantiseptic.
“Wasitworthit?”
“She’llalwaysbeworthit.”
“Whateverittakestokeepyourgirlsafe?”
“Whateverittakes.”ApromiseIintendtokeep.
***
“Yousureshe’sstayingthewholeweekend?”Garrettpicksupthebackpackinthebackseatofthelimo,examiningit.“Doesn’tseemlikeshebroughtmuch.”
Olivia’saminimalist,Ithink,sothat’sprobablywhy.ButinsteadIsay,“Becauseshe’snotgonnaneedanyclotheswhilewe’reathome.”
Adamhuffsalaugh,poppingthebuttononhiscoatashestretchesout.“Imissthosegoodolddays.”
Emmettarchesabrow.“Ifthedaysaren’tgood,Woody,thenyougottadosomethingaboutit.That’snotright,bud.”
“Idon’tknowwhatelsetodo.IfeellikeI’vetriedeverything.Imanagedtoconvincehertomeetusatthebar,atleast.”
Firsttimein,like,fourmonths,Isayinmyhead.ThelooksonEmmettandGarrett’sfacestellmethey’rethinkingthesamething.Idon’tknowwhatthehellisgoingonwithAdamandCourtney,butsomethingsureashellisn’tright.
Ispotmygorgeousbrunettethesecondwestepthroughthedoor.She’sleaningoverthebar,chinproppedupinherhand,eyesontheTVaboveasitplaysahighlightofmygoal.IditchmycoatintheboothCara’ssetupat,dropakisstohercheek,andmakeabeelineforOlivia.
“Yourassisoutofthisfuckingworld,”Imurmur,droppingmychintohershoulderasmyarmscomearoundher.
“Mmm.”Shereachesback,threadingherfingersthroughmyhairasshetipsherheadtotheside,lettingmylipsmeetthesoft,warmskinonherneck.“You’resoromantic.”
“I’llshowyouromantic.”Islipahandunderthefrontofhershirt,coveringherbelly,enjoyingthewayhermusclesjumpatmytouch,anddipthetipsofmyfreefingersbeneaththewaistbandofherjeans.“I’mgonnashredthesejeanswhenwegethome.Burn’eminthefire.”
“WhatwillIwear?”
“Mynakedbody,drapedoveryours,whileIfuckyourbrainsout.”
“Allweekend?”Myfavoriteassrubsagainstthebulgeinmyslacks,Olivia’sfingerstighteningaroundmyhair,herotherhandcoveringmineonherstomach.
“All.Damn.Weekend.”Iniptheedgeofherjaw.“You’regonnabegmetostop.”
“WhywouldIdothat?”
Ihumalaugh,turninghertowardme.“Ifyouwannagetaheadstart,wecansneakoffrightnowtothebathroom.”
“You’dneverfitinthestalls.”
“IlovewhenyoutalkabouthowmassiveIam.Itonlypumpsmyego.”
“YouknowdamnwellI’mnottalkingaboutyourdick.”
“Youlovemymonsterdick,”Itease,squeezingherassandpressingherbodyagainstmineasmytonguesweepshermouth.
“Ido,”sheagrees,fingerscurlingaroundthehairhangingdownmyneck.Herthumbbrushesagainstthecutonthecornerofmymouth.“ButyouknowwhatIdon’tlove?”
Idropmyheadbackwardwithadeepbellygroan,eyessqueezingshutatthesuddensternnesslacinghertone.“Youtrickedme.IthoughtIwasgonnagetawaywithit.”
Olivialiftsoneperfectbrowanddrawshertouchback,pinningherarmsacrossherchest.“You’reintrouble,CarterBeckett.”
Mygazehoods.“Iloveitwhenyoutalkteachertome,baby.”
“Don’tsweet-talkme.Itwon’twork.”
“Itwon’t?”Tuggingherbackontome,Ikissherneck,wetslidesandnippingteethuntilIfindherear.“Whataboutkisses?Willthosework?”
“No.”It’smoregaspthanwordsoI’mcallingbullshitonthatanswer.“Carter.”Awhimper,probablyduetothewaymytongueflicksout,tastingtheskinbelowherear.Herfingersdigin,squeezingmybicepsassheleansintomelikesheneedsmybodytokeepherupright.It’scool;I’llalwayssupporther.
Oliviagroans,meltingintome.
“Impossiblenottogiveintome,right?”
“Ihateyou,”shemutterswithoutanyheat.
“Nah.Youloveme.”Againstmylips,Ifeeltheheatofmyaccusationcreepingupherneck,andIhidemysmileinherhairwhenIcrushhertomeforahug.Lacingmyfingersthroughhers,Iscoopherbeerupoffthebarwhenthebartenderslidesitover,andtugonherhand.“Comeon,pumpkin.Iwanteveryonetoseemewiththegorgeousgirlfromthejumbotrontonight.”
“Andthat’sanotherthing!”Shethrowsherfreehandintheair.Iloveherlittletempertantrums.“Youembarrassedmeagaintonight.”
Ishoveherintotheboothandslideinnexttoher.“Youcallitembarrassingyou;Icallitshowingyouoff.Howelsewouldtheworldknowyou’remine?”
Caraliftsanamusedbrowasshewatchesus.“You’restillmadathim?Evenknowingnowwhyhefought?Ithinkhedeservesabigol’BJforwhathedid.”
IclearmythroatandtapCara’sshinwithmyfootbeforeslicingmyhandacrossmynecktwice.Ex-fucking-nay,Imentallyscreamather.
Thecornersofhermouthcurl.“Oh.Youdidn’ttellher.”
“Tellmewhat?”Olivialooksbetweenus.“Whatdidn’tyoutellme?”
“Uh…”Iscratchmyhead,searchingforsomethingtotellOlivia,anythingotherthanwhatshe’sasking.“Thatyou’re…my…I…loooveyou?”Huh.KindafeelslikeIjustsatisfiedanurgetosaywordsthatare1000percenttooearlytoactuallysay.Weird.
Thefrownthattipshermouthtellsmeshedoesn’tfinditparticularlyfunny.“Carter.”
“Olliegirl.”Itakeasipofherbeer,holdinghergaze.
“Hefoughtforyou,”Carablurts,thenslapsbothhandsoverhermouthliketheurgewasuncontrollable.“Sorry.Sosorry.”
Sighing,Isinkbackinthebooth,gazenarrowinginonEmmett,whohappenstobeactivelylookinganywherebutatme.
“Carter?”Oliviatouchesmyarm.“Whatdoesshemeanyoufoughtforme?”
Iliftashoulderandletitfall.“It’snothing,really.DaleyjustsaidsomeshitIdidn’tlike.”
“Saidhewantedtosplityouinhalfwithhisdick,”Carablurtsagain.
“Care!”Emmettholdshishandsupinawhatthefuckkindaway,eyeswide,whileGarrettandAdamchokeontheirdrinks.“Babe,comeon.”
“I’msorry!Ican’thelpit!”ShelooksatOlivia.“Isn’tithot,though?Hedefendedyourhonor!Therewasbloodeverywhere!Itwasawar,andyouweretheprize.”
“Shewasneverupforgrabs.”IsqueezeOlivia’skneebeneaththetable.She’sexceptionallyquiet,staringupatme.“Youokay?”
“Lookslikeshe’sthinkingaboutthatBJyoudeserve,”Caramurmursaroundherglass.
“I’mbored,Adam,”afamiliarvoicecutsin.AredheadappearsatAdam’sside,blueeyesglazingoverOliviabeforelandingonme.ShesmirksbeforelookingtoAdam.“Let’sgo.”
“Already?It’sonly—wejust—Imean,weonlyjustgothere.”Adamfrowns,reachingforhisgirlfriend’shand.Shepullsitawaybeforehecantakeit.“Youhaven’tmetCarter’sgirlfriendyet.Olivia.”HegesturesatOlivia,whogluesonabrightbeamandholdsherhandout.“ThisisCourtney.”
Courtney’seyesmovedownOlivia’sbodyandbackupbeforeslidingmywayagain.“Hi,”shetossesouthalf-assed,ignoringherhand.“Girlfriend,huh?”
“Yes.”Myjawticks.ThedislikeIfeelforthisgirlisoffthecharts.Idon’tknowwhyAdamisstillwithher.
“Court,”heurgesunderhisbreath.“Comeon.”
CourtneyrollshereyesbeforetakingOlivia’shandandgivingitaquick,flimsyshake,thendroppingitlikeshe’sadiseaseshedoesn’twanttotouch.“I’mgonnagogetanotherdrinkwithmyfriendsthen.”
“Sorry,Ollie,”Adamwhispers,scratchingahandthroughhishair.“She’snotusuallyso…she’snormally,um…I’msorry.”
Oliviagiveshishandasqueeze.“Don’tworry,Adam.”
Thenight’skindafuckedfromthere.Adam’sinasourmoodandeveryone’squietandtired.Olivia’stuckedintomyside,herhandonmythighwhenherheadhitsmyshoulderonlyforty-fiveminuteslater.
Ipressakisstothecrownofherhead.“WannagohomesoIcanworshipyourbody?”
“Thatsoundsnice,”shesayswithasoft,happysigh.
Shetakesofftothebathroomafterwesaygood-bye,andIgatherourcoatsandheaddownthehallwaytowaitforher.Ilearnedmylessonafterthelasttimeshewenttothebathroominthisbar.
Theskinonthebackofmyneckpebbles,andamomentlaterCourtneysauntersintothedarkhall.
“Carter,”shedrawls,sidlingupnexttome.“Howlong’sthisgirlfriendthinggonnalast?”
Ishiftonmyfeet,ignoringtheboozeoozingoffher.Shehasn’tsetfootbackinourboothsinceshedisappearedafterherstellarperformanceearliertonight.“Aslongasshekeepsme.”
“Comeon.YouandIbothknowthat’snotyou.”Thetipsofherfingernailslandonmyneck,drawingaslowpathup,andIturnonher,crowdingherspace.
“Whatthefuckareyoudoing?”
“What?”Hertongueflicksacrossherlowerlipasherhandsinksintomyhair.
“Getyourhandsoffme.You’redatingoneofmybestfriends.Ihaveagirlfriend.”
Hereyesgleamasshewindsmytiearoundherfist.“PoorCarter.Nofunforyouanymorenowthatyou’vegotyourballsinavice.Isyourgirlfriendnotupforsharing?Whatadrag.”
Ilowermyfaceuntilthetipsofournosesnearlytouch.“Walk.Thefuck.Away.”
Withawink,shestridesoffwithalittletoomuchswinginherstep,andIrunanagitatedpalmdownmychest.
Idon’tknowwhatthefuckhasgottenintoherinthelastsixmonths.I’veneverhadanissuewithheruntilapoolpartyattheirplacelastsummerwhenshefollowedmeinsidethehouseandslippedherhandupmyshirt.WhenIaskedherwhatshewasdoing,shesaidshesawthewayIlookedather.Istilldon’thaveacluewhatshewastalkingabout,butIturnedaroundandleftwithoutthebeerI’dgoneinfor.
ThelongerIstandhere,themorerestlessIbecome.Myshouldersfeeltightandrigid,andI’vegotaheadachebrewingbehindmyeyes.Idon’tknowifIneedsleep,caffeine,orsimplyOlivia,butIdecideaquickglassoficewaterwilldowhileIwait,soIguzzleonedownatthebarbeforeheadingbacktowardthebathrooms.
Aleggybrunettestraightensfromherspotonthewallwhensheseesme.She’smildlyfamiliar,butIcan’tplaceher.
“Thereyouare.”
Exhaustiontinglesmyspine.“DoIknowyou?”
Shebitesherlip.“YoushowedmetheviewfromyourpenthousewhileIwaspressedupagainstyourbedroomwindow.”Slingingherarmsaroundmyneck,shemurmurs,“Ihearyou’rereadyforseconds.”CHAPTER31WHENPUSHCOMESTOSHOVEOLIVIA
“Soyou’rethegirlfriend,huh?”
Mygazelifts,lockingonCourtney’sinthemirror.I’mawarethisisonlythesecondthingshe’ssaidtomeever,butIdon’tthinkIlikeherverymuch.
Iwavemyhandinfrontofthesensoronthefaucet,bringingonthecoolwater.“I’mthegirlfriend.”
“It’ssonicetomeetyou,Ophelia.”
MyreflectionsmilesathersasIscrubmyhands.“Youtoo,Chloe.”
Hereyesnarrow.“Courtney.”
“Pardon?”
“MynameisCourtney.”
“Ohmygosh.I’msosorry.”Pullingapapertowelfromthedispenser,Idrymyhands.“Imusthaveforgotten.It’sbeensuchalong,busyweekatwork.Whatisitthatyoudo?”
Hergazecoastsdownmybody,thenbackup.Leaningoverthecounter,shereapplieshercrimsonlipstick.“Myboyfriend’srich.Idon’tneedajob.”
Don’tthinkit,don’tthinkit,don’tthinkit.
PoorAdam.
Damnit.Ithoughtit.
“Iwouldn’tquityourjobjustyet,”Courtneygivesmeherunsolicitedadvice.“Youwouldn’twanttomakeanyrashdecisionsthatyoumightregretlater.”
“Idon’tplanonquittingmyjob.”
Sheblowsoutatheatricalsighofrelief.“OhthankGod.It’sforthebest,really,knowingCarterandall.”
Whatthefuckisthatsupposedtomean?
Blueeyesflicktomineinthemirror.“Youknow,becauseyou’renothisusualtype.”
MyjawflexesasIswiveltowardthedoor.Hervoicestopsme,myhandontheknob.
“Soconvenienthowclosehiscondoistothearenaandbar,right?”Thecornersofhermouthlift.“Greatwaytogetallthosegirlshefucksbacktherequickly.”
Somethingangryanduncomfortableclawsatmychest,andIworktokeepmyvoicesteady.“I’veneverbeenthere,soIwouldn’tknow.Wespendourtimetogetherathishouse.”
Courtneyturnsbacktothemirrorasifshehasn’theardme,ormaybeshesimplydoesn’tcare.“Bye,Olive.”
“Whatarudebitch,”ImutterbeneathmybreathasIexitthebathroom.Ipauseoutsidethedoortotakeadeepbreathandshakeawaythefearshe’stryingtofeedme,theinsecuritiesshe’stryingtoplantbackinmyheadwhereIdon’twantthem.ShewantsmetothinkI’mnothingspecialtoCarter,thatI’mthesameaseveryonewho’scomebeforeme.Shewantsmetobeasmiserableassheclearlyis,andIdon’tknowwhy.Ican’timaginealifewithsomeoneaskindasAdamLockwoodbeinganythinglessthanperfect,andlifewithCarterisshapinguptofeelthesame.
ThoughI’dpreferifIdidn’tfindhimattheendofthehallwaywithatallbrunette.
Myheartstuttersandmystomachcurlsatthewayshe’sgotherhandsonhim,andIpressmyteethintomylowerlipinanefforttostopthequiverthat’ssuddenlystarted.
Itakeacautioussteptowardthem,catchingthetailendoftheirconversation,whichhappenstobesomethingaboutbeingfuckedupagainstawindow.
MygazemovesbetweenthemasIquietlycallhisname.“Carter?”
AwaveofreliefrunsthroughCarterasheexhales,andhereachesouttopullmeintohim,clutchingmetightly.“Hi,baby,”hewhispers,pressinghislipstomycheek.
“What’sgoingon?”It’snotmewhoasks;it’sthewillowybrunette.“Ithoughtweweregoingbacktoyourplace?”Shelooksmeover.“Isshecoming?”
“What?No?”Carter’sheadwagsrapidly.“Ollie,Ididn’tsaythat,Iswear.IwenttogetadrinkofwaterandwhenIcamebackshewashereand—”Hisbrowspulltogetherasheturnstolookather.“WhotoldyouIwasreadyforseconds?”
Readyforseconds?Adeeppitofjealousyopensinmystomach,theachesoraw,sougly,Ilaymyhandovermybelly,rightwhereithurts.He’sbeenwithherbefore,thisstunningwomanwithlegsthatgostraighttoheaven.
Ihatethisfeeling.Theenvyisbitter,andIclosemyeyesasItrytowipeawaytheimageofthemtogether,thecomparisonsI’malreadycataloginginmyheadasIstudyher.Itellmyselfnottodothis,nottodeepdiveintothishole.Ican’tliveinaplacewhereI’mconstantlywonderingifsomebodyelsewasbetter,ifhekissedtheirlipswhilehebroughtthemtothebrink.
“Shedid,”thewomanfinallyanswersonamurmur,foreheadcreasedasshewatchesCourtneyemergefromthebathroomwithnothingbutaglanceinourdirectionbeforeshestridesaway.Thebrunettepressesherfingerstoherforehead.“OhmyGod.I’msodense.Courtneytoldmeyouwereaskingaboutmebutcouldn’tremembermyname.ShesaidyouwerebackhereandI…”Shecloseshereyesandshakesherhead.“I’msosorry,”shewhispersbeforeshemovesbyus.
“Ollie.”Carterguidesmygazetohis.“IpromiseIdidn’tdoanything.Courtneycamebackhereandshewastouchingmeand—”
“Shewastouchingyou?Withoutyourpermission?”
Henods.“Itoldhertoleavemealone.”
Mypalmslidesalonghisjaw,cuppinghisface.“I’msorry,Carter.That’snotokay.Areyouallright?”
“I’mfine.It’syouI’mworriedabout.”
“Ijustwanttogohome.”
“Thenlet’sgohome.”
Carterhelpsmeintomycoatandtakesmyhand,towingmethroughthebar.Ittakesmealloftwosecondstospottheruderedheadthatseemstobefindinghumorinourtiredexpressions.
“Leavingalready?”Courtneypurrs.“Shame.”
Cartertenses,hismouthopening,presumablytotellhertogofuckherself.That’swhatIwanttosay,atleast.
SoIputmyhandonhischestandbeathimtoit.
“You’reabitch,”ItellCourtney,thoughIsuspectsheknowsasmuch.“You’rerudeandmiserableandIdon’tknowwhatrightyouthinkyouhavetopulltheshityoudid.”
Istepintoher,undeterredbythemanyinchesshehasonmeinherheels.Herteethclacktogether,jawtighteningashergazeflicksacrossthecrowdedbartoAdam.Ican’thelpbutfeelforthatsweetman.
“AdamdeservessomuchbetterthanyouandIcanonlyhopeonedayherealizesthat.Touchmyboyfriendwithouthisconsentagain,siconemoreunsuspectingfemaleonhim,andseewhathappens.It’llbeanentirelydifferentconversation.”
I’mnotentirelysurewhatImeanbythat,butthethreatlingersintheairregardless.I’mnotnormallyaphysicalperson.I’veonlygottenintoonefightinmylifeanditwasontheice.Iwasfifteenyearsoldandthevictimofaplainoldmeangirl.Aftertwo-and-a-halfperiodsofdealingwithherphysicalandverbalaggression,Ifinallyletmytempergetthebestofme.
Mypointisthis:girlscanbenasty,andifpushcomestoshove,Icanbenastyrightback.Igrewupwithanolderbrotherwhoneverwenteasyonme.Iwasinaheadlock90percentofmychildhood.
Courtney’sgazeslants,blazingwithire.“Fucky—”
“No,”Cartergrindsout,yankingmeawayfromher.“Fuckyou,Courtney.”
Wedon’tstoptosayourgood-byes,andwhenwestepoutsideIexpectCartertocallforourride.Insteadhestartspullingmedownthestreet,throughthefallingsnowandthehowlingwindasitslapsatourcheeks.I’mstrugglingtokeepupwithhislongstrides,mysneakersslippingontheicysidewalks,andCarterfinallyslows,tuckingmeintohisside.
“Sorry,”hemurmurs,pausingtopresshislipstomycoldnose.
He’sanxiousandworkedup;it’snothardtotell.TheproblemisthatIam,too,andI’mafraidwe’reabouttofeedoffeachother’senergy.I’mangry.Angryforhim,forhavingtoputupwithunwantedadvances,unconsentedtouches.I’mangryatCourtneyfornotappreciatingwhatshehas,forinsertingherselfwhereshedoesn’tbelong.I’mangryatmyself,becauseIcan’tstopthinkingaboutCarter’supcomingroadtrip.Ican’tgotothebathroomwithoutwomenthrowingthemselvesathim.It’snotastretchtoassumeI’mgoingtobelyingawake,wonderinghowmanygirlsarepropositioninghimeachnight,tryingtogethimtosway,puttingtheirhandsonhim.
It’snotuntilCarterswipesakeycardthroughaslotonasky-highbuildingandwemoveintotheelegant,marbledlobbythatIrealizewhereweare.
“Isthisyourcondo?”
“Mhmm.”Hesweepsmeintoanemptyelevatorandpunchesinafive-digitcodebeforeitspringstolife.
Theheatstackedinhisgazewhenheturnsonmeisnew,andwhenhepressesmeagainstthewallandopenshismouthonmine,myheartstartsskippinginawayIdon’tlike.
Histouchisroughasheworksmycoatoff,hiskisseshungryandneedy,andwhenthedoorsslideopen,hewalksmebackwarduntilmybackhitsadoor.
Idon’thaveachancetolookaroundoncewestumbleintotheapartment,becausehekneelsbeforemeandtugsmyshoesoff,hoistsmeuptohimandcarriesmedownalonghallway.Hesetsmedownonacoldbedinadarkroom,andallIhearistheclinkofhisbeltbuckle,thesoftthudwhenhispantshitthefloor,theheavy,jaggedriseofmychestwitheachstaggeredinhale.
Fragmentsofsilvermoonlightslipthroughthewindow,castingshadowsthatonlyaidmyunease.Imakeouttheshapeofalamponthebedsidetable,yankingthecordtobathetheroominadimglow.
MyheartracesasItakeintheroom.Perfect,butempty.Nopictures,nopersonaltouches.Notlived-inandhomeylikehisbedroominhishouse.It’ssterileandwhite,pristinelykept,andIhateeverycoldinchofit.
There’sastarvedlookinCarter’seyesashegripsmyanklesanddragsmetowardhim,likehecan’twaitanothersecond,likehe’sbeendeprivedforweeksonend.
Hashe?
Iclosemyeyesandshakemyhead,asifIcanshakethenotionrightfromit.
Carterripsmyshirtoverheadandjerksmyjeansdownmylegsbeforewrappingthemaroundhiswaist.Pressinghimselfagainstme,hegroans,nippingmylip.“Fuck,baby,Iwantyou.Sobadly.”
“Stop!”Thedemandcomeswithoutwarning.There’sawilddrumsoundinginmyears,andapulsinginmytemplethatwon’tease.“I-I-Ican’t.Ican’t,Carter.”Iscootoutofhisholdandslipovertheedgeofthebed.
“Hey.”HereachesformewhenIrockettomyfeetandbackmyselfupagainstthewall,myhandatmythroat.“What’swrong,princess?”
“Don’t.Don’tcallmethat.”
HeapproachesmelikeI’maferalanimal,cagedandterrified.“Talktome,Ollie,please.What’swrong?”
“I-I-Ican’t,Carter.Ican’tbewithyou.”Mytremblinggazelandsonthebed.“Notthere.Notwhereyou…notwhereyou’ve…”Notwherehe’sbeen,nightafternight,withgirlaftergirl.
Hisgazeflickersandsoftenswhenunderstandinghits,andamomentlaterI’mwrappedupinhim,myfaceburiedinhischestasIbegwithmybraintoholdontomytears.Idon’twanthimtoseethem,toseethispartofme,soweak,soscared,sofuckingvulnerable.
Hispalmrunsslowlyovermyback,tenderandreassuring.“I’msorry,Ollie.I’msosorry.Iwasn’tthinking.”Withmyfaceinhishands,hisworried,patientgazesearchesmine.Hepressesalingeringkisstomyforeheadbeforefixingmyshirtbackovermyhead.“I’llgetthecar,okay?We’llgohome.”
Idon’tknowwhatmakesmedoit,whyIwanttotorturemyself,butwhileCartercallshisdriver,Iopenthedrawerofthebedsidetable.Massamountsofcondomsspillout,phonenumbersscrawledonpaper,punctuatedwithlipstickkisses.
Coveringmyquietgaspwithmyhand,Icreeptothelivingroom.It’sasstarkasthebedroom,andwhenIopenthesidetabledrawer,I’mgracedwithmorecondoms.
“He’llbehereintenminutes,”Cartercallsout,steppingintotheroom,fullydressedandheaddown,eyesonhisphone.Hecomestoafullstopwhenhelooksup,gazemovingbetweenmyfaceandthedrawerofcondomsI’mstaringat.“Olivia…Ihaven’tbeenupheresince—”
“Whydidyoubringmehere?”
“I…”Hisgazeholdsmineashesearchesforareasonableexcuse.“Ididn’tthink.Ijustwantedtobealonewithyou.Ididn’twanttowait.”
“Doyoumissthelifeyouhadbeforeyoumetme?”ThewordsareoutofmymouthbeforeIcanswallowthemdown,butGod,theweightofthemissoheavy,andI’mtiredofcarryingtheworryinthebackofmymind.IthinkI’vebeentryingtoconvincemyselfthatmyfearsarenolongerwarranted,thatCarter’sbeengreatforawholeweekandIhavenothingtobeinsecureabout.
Butthat’sjustit,isn’tit?It’sbeenaweek.Iwalkedawayfromhimforveryrealreasons,veryvalidfears,andjustbecauseIwantthemtoleavedoesn’tmeantheysimplygetupandwalkaway,evenifIwishtheywould.
AndGod,doIwishtheywould,becauseIcan’tstandthewayhisfacecrumplesatmywords,myaccusation,butit’salwaysbeensimplerformetodisguisemypainandworriesthantoadmitthem.I’mnotusedtohavingtodoitsooften,becauseit’salwaysbeeneasyformetoseparatemyfeelingsfromgenuineanddeeptofleetingandlackluster,whichmeansthatIhadnotroubleendingrelationshipsthatdidn’tfeelrighttome.Feelingsdidn’trundeepenoughtowarrantanycomplexemotions.
Still,Ialwaysassumedthattherightrelationshipwouldbeallsmoothsailing,apuzzlethatfallstogetherpainlessly.
ButCarter’sbeentheexceptiontoeveryrule,everyfamiliarity.He’stheaxisthatspinsmyentireworld,andit’sdizzyingandunnervingforonemantoholdsomuchpoweroverme.
Itellmyselfnottodothis,nottospiralthroughthisendlessloopofdoubt.Ican’tliveinaplacewhereI’mconstantlywonderingwherethemediawillrankmeonhislistofconquests.
Andyetthearticlefromonlydaysagoplaysoverinmyhead,thespeculations,theinclinationthatIcan’tpossiblybeenoughofareasontomakehimchange,thatIcan’tgivehimwhathereallyneedsorwants.Pairthatwiththefleetingtimewe’vemanagedtospendtogetheroverthispastweek,andthispositionwhereIstandrightnowintheveryplaceIneverwantedtobe,likeallthewomenbeforeme,thestringsofmeaninglesshookups…Allofitonlyheightensmyinsecurities,myfears.I’vealwaysbeenconfidentinwhoIamasaperson,whatIhavetooffersomeone.ExceptnowhalfofNorthAmericaiswatching,placingbetsonhowlongitwilllast.
Andso,forthethousandthtime,Irealize,inallhonesty,Idon’tknowifIamenough.
Idon’twanttofindoutthehardway.
Ineedhimtohelpmethroughthis,butIdon’tknowhowtoask.
“Doyouwantyourfreedomback?Isthatwhatyoubringingmeherewasabout?”
Carter’seyescloudover,astormynightthatstealsthebrilliantgreeninhisforest.“Don’t.Don’tdothat.Droptheactfor,like,fiveminutes,okay?Iknowyou’retryingdamnhardtopretendlikeyou’resometoughchickwhosefeelingsaren’thurtbyseeingmewithsomeoneelse,bythatfuckingarticlefromMonday,byseeingallthis—”hegesturesaroundthecondo,atthecondoms,“—butIfuckingseeyou.Iknowyou,Olivia,soberealwithme.Ifyou’rescared,tellmeyou’rescared,butdon’tspewyouraccusationslikethey’rethetruthjustbecauseyou’retooafraidtocomerightoutandadmitit.”
Hetwistsawayfromme,scrubbinghishandsoverhisfacebeforerunningthemthroughhishair,asoundofexasperationcomingfromhisthroat.Anger,sorrow,defeat…It’sallthereinhisexpressionwhenheturnsbacktome.
“Yousaidyouwereallin.Yousaidthat,Ollie,butIgottabehonest,thisthingyou’redoingfeelsawholelotlikeyou’vealreadygotonefootoutthedoor,readytobailassoonasthingsgosideways.AndIcan’t…Ican’tdothis.”
Iclutchatmychest,rightwhereitfeelslikeit’scrackingwideopen,andthenthetearscome.Theyfillmyeyes,poolinguntilIcan’tsee.Irefusetoblink,becauseifthisisit,ifit’soveralready,Idon’twanttolethimseethemcometumblingdownmycheeks.Idon’twanttoshowhimhowhardI’vefallensoquickly.
Ican’tseehishandcloseovermine,onlyfeelashetugsonit,leadingmeovertothedoor.Heslipsmycoatovermyshouldersandhelpsmebackintomyshoes.Whenhewalksmeoutintothehallway,thetearsspilldownmyface,betrayingme.
Iwon’tlookathim.Ican’t.Notintheelevatorwhilehetenderlyholdsmyhand.Notwhenheleadsmethroughthelobbyoroutintothecoldnight,murmuringaquietwarningformetokeepmyheaddownasIbarelyregistertheflashofcameralights.Notwhenhehelpsmeintothelimoandslidesinnexttome,allwithoutaword.IstareoutthewindowatthepassinglandscapesasIcrysilentlyfortherelationshipthat’soversosoon,theonlymanI’veeverfeltsodeeplyfor,myinsecuritiesthatledmedownadeep,darkholethatIcan’tclimboutof.Notnowthatit’sover,thatI’verepeatedtoomanymistakesbecausetrustdidn’tcomeeasilyenough,fastenough.
Myeyeswidenwhenwedrivepastthestreetthatwilltakemetomyhouse,andIfinallyturntoCarter.“You-you…hemissedthe—”
Hedoesn’tlookatme.“You’recominghomewithme.”
“Butwe—”
“Wefought.”Carter’shardgazeshootstome.Somethingtenderflickersthroughit,somethingunsteady,likemaybe…maybehe’sscaredtoo.“Thatdoesn’tchangeanything.”
Istayquiet,staringdownatmylap,attheagitatedfingerhetapsonhisknee.
Untilhetwistsbacktome.
“YouknowwhatwouldhappenifItookyouhomerightnow?”
Mylipsparttogivehimananswer,thoughIdon’treallyhaveone.Hecutsmeoffanyway.
“Firstofall,itwouldbethelastthingI’dwanttodoandthelastthingyou’dwant,too;let’sbehonest.I’dleavebeyondangrywithmyselfandyou’dpretendyouweredonewithme,thatitwasforthebest.Thenyou’dgetinside,putonyourpajamas,havefiveminutestocooldown,andrealizeyou’reangrywithyourselftoo.You’dcryoverourfight,likeyou’redoingnow,becauseyou’dfeelbadthatyouhurtmewithyourwords.Andme?”Hegesturesathimselfashelooksmeover,watchingmytearscontinuetofall.“I’dgethome,bepissedatmyselfforlettingyouwalkaway,leavingyouwhenyou’reupsetandvulnerable,thatyou’reonceagaindealingwiththeconsequencesofmyrecklesspastchoices.AndI’dgetinmycaranddriveallthewaybacktoyou.”
Carterbendshisneck,hislipssoclosehisbreathbecomesmine,andmyspinequivers.
“I’dthrowyouovermyshoulderifIhadto,butIwouldn’tneedto,becausethesecondyousawme,you’dflingyourarmsaroundmeandcry.AndyouknowwhatI’ddo,Olivia?”Hisnosetouchesmine,trailingupthelengthofit,thenbackdown.“I’dholdyou.I’dkissyou.I’dtellyouitwasokay,thatIforgiveyouforthewordsyousaidwhenyouwerehurtingandscared.ThenI’daskyoutoforgivemeforactingwithoutthinking,forbringingyouthereandcontributingtoanarrativethatonlyfeedsyourfears.”
Withalowsigh,Cartersinksbackagainsttheseat,lettinghisheadfallbackward.“Youwannafight,getyourself-doubtout,that’sfine.Butyou’regonnadoitwithme,atmyhouse,together.”
Hissearingstareswingsmyway.“Irefusetoletyoupushmeawayagain.”CHAPTER32
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