Page 75 of Click
“What’s going on with you, Carson? You’ve been acting hot and cold ever since this morning.”
He drops the knife on the cutting board with a clank. “I know.”
Okay then, glad he’s self-aware. “Why?” Hands on my hips, I silently will him to turn around and face me. He doesn’t. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
His shoulders sag and voice is gruff when he says, “I know.” He slowly turns around and leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.
It’s the universal body language for leave me alone.
“Talk to me,” I practically beg. “If I’ve done something wrong or crossed a line…” Reaching out, I try to touch him.
He moves away. “Don’t touch me right now.”
I freeze.
Then I back up.
Our dynamic requires trust and honesty and openness. He’s not living up to his end of the contract. “Tell me something,” I whisper. “Please. I don’t understand what’s happening here.”
I should have known this was too perfect. It was just an act. The classic be-on-your-best-behavior-in-the-beginning-of-a-relationship bullshit. Carson’s mask has apparently dropped, and I’m now staring at a very different man.
It makes me want to cry. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them go.
He won’t open his mouth to speak. Staring at me with these big brown eyes, his chest expands and contracts while he breathes harder, faster, as if he’s trying to stop all his emotions from leaking out at once. That’s what scares me most. He’s on the verge of breaking and I don’t get why.
My voice shakes as I try to remain calm. “I’ll erase the video and pictures.” Pulling my cell out again, I tap the screen to get started.
“No.” He places his hand over my cell, covering up the picture of us, and takes it from me.
My hackles raise. “Carson, give me my phone back.”
He stares at me for a heartbeat, then his gaze falls to the photos I’ve screenshot. It’s all I can do to not rip my cell phone out of his hand, but seeing his expression makes me hesitate. He looks devastated.
Why?
Chapter 25
Carson
Every single photo she’s captured seems to highlight everything I hate about myself.
It’s not Mak’s fault that I feel this way. My own hangups are always poking and prodding my confidence, and today’s session in the studio gave them new weapons to beat me down with.
I’ve been with my fair share of women, all shapes and sizes, but not once have I been with someone like Mak. She’s so petite and spunky and fun and sweet and oblivious to how different we really are. It makes me want to call things off with her and also keep her forever.
“Carson?” Her sweet, soft voice trembles and it makes me feel worse.
I should just hand over my man card and sit in time out since I’m behaving like a child.
“I don’t know what you see in this video or these pictures, but…” I expand one, homing in on the way my belly rolls over my belt. “I can’t stand the sight of myself.”
The air is vacuumed out of the kitchen. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t look at Mak.
“What?” her voice cracks. “Carson, how can you say that?”
Easy. Just look at my picture. “I’ve worked really hard on my body for the better part of ten years. It’s never enough. I’m… never going to be enough.”
The oven beeps, signaling it’s time to put the tray of enchiladas I’d made up yesterday into the oven to bake. “You deserve someone better than me,” I choke out. “Someone who matches you better than I do.”