Page 61 of Trusting You
“Lily was fine with me on the bathroom floor, anyway.” Carter shrugs then moves around me to grab a pitcher of orange juice and pours herself a glass. “Until she escaped briefly and found a tub of puffs, I see.”
“Another Hayes trait, I’m afraid. We’re gluttons for food. Even kernels found on the floor. Perhaps we were city pigeons in a past life.”
Carter leans a hip on the counter as she drinks. “Are you okay? You don’t look like you slept much.”
“Slept just fine, thank you.” I give Lily her bottle and put her on the floor so she can drink it herself. “As your inability to wake me proves.”
“Mm.”
“I figure I’ll take Lily to the park today. Want to come?”
Carter’s expression smooths like she understands I’m changing the subject. “Can’t. I’m going to help Pierce hang my paintings.”
I have to think back, rely on Carter’s previous nuggets of information, to remember who the fuck Pierce is. I still don’t. “Pierce?”
“The owner and manager of the cafe where I’m being displayed.”
Unintentionally, I stray to her cleavage again.
“My art, Locke.”
“Obviously,” I scoff, then pretend deep interest in how Lily’s tilting her bottle.
“It might take all day. I’m sorry I can’t be here to help.”
When Carter looks at Lily, it’s as if Lily just set off the most brilliant sunset. Even doing the simplest tasks, like drinking her breakfast, Carter can never look at Lily like she’s bored.
It grounds me, that look. So matured, yet timeless. One I hope I’ll earn enough to emulate.
“Don’t worry about it. Lily and I’ll be fine. Right, Lil?”
Lily tilts her head almost backwards to peer at me through her forehead.
“Right,” I agree with myself. “And it’s good practice. For when I can no longer rely on you.”
If Lily causes sunsets in Carter, I fling blackouts.
“Yeah.” Carter sets her empty glass in the sink behind me.
“Carter, I didn’t mean…”
“No, of course not!” she says with forced cheer. “You’re totally right. And I’m going out with your sister tonight, anyway, so today’s a true test for you.”
Carter bends down and smooches Lily on the cheek. Then, as if on impulse, she does the same to my scruff.
“Good luck,” she says.
Carter strides to her paintings, which I only now notice have been stacked near the front door.
“Can you carry all that?” I ask. I need a few seconds to get over the stupor of having her lips on my face. “Gimme five to put on a shirt and pants—”
“No worries, Pierce is coming to give me a hand.”
“Pierce, huh?” I say before thinking.
Carter eyes me through her lashes. “Yes. Pierce. The manager. We’ve discussed this.”
“Uh-huh.” I lean against the fridge, Lily still pumping that milk into her system at my feet.