Page 98 of Trusting You
Carter’s gaze darkens like she’s reminding herself of my slutty past.
It’s definitely time to deflect, both from the truth and history.
“Maybe she kept her thing with me under wraps because of you,” I say.
Carter stiffens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“There would have to be a good reason she wouldn’t confess, considering how close you guys were,” I say, and lower my voice as much as I can to soften the blow. “Even before she knew she was pregnant, she didn’t want to tell you about me.”
“And you have the answer?”
“Yeah, I kinda do.”
I don’t want to get into the how, because for the first time, I’m hesitant it’ll come out like I’m a dick. But I know, fairly fast, when a chick is into me. Years of denying and accepting women’s advances have honed me into a sensor where I can bed a chick or let them down gently within minutes. All it takes is a brief rewind to the night of the party where I slept with Paige, and I see, in that younger Carter’s expression, exactly why Paige kept our romp in the sheets secret.
“You had a crush on me,” I say.
Carter’s mouth starts working, a fish out of water gasping for something to come out of her gills instead of dead silence, and I don’t have the heart to keep going.
“It’s whatever,” I say, then signal for another tonic. “In the past. And clearly, you and Paige worked through that night, anyway.”
“Why am I not surprised you immediately mention your sex appeal as the reason instead of something more realistic,” Carter spits out, and I’m genuinely shocked.
“Huh?”
“It always comes back to your penis, doesn’t it?”
“I—no?”
I have no idea what to do. I’ve gotten that spark back in Carter, the fire in her eyes that usually turns me on…except, she’s honestly pissed. And once again, I’m left fucking clueless.
“God, when are you going to see a girl outside of fucking her?” Carter asks.
“Hey now,” I say, but don’t dare reach for her. “I’m only telling you what I figure—”
“Well, you figure wrong,” she huffs, then pretzels her arms to her chest and stares straight ahead. “I don’t—didn’t—have a crush on you.”
I’m dismissed.
I was about to tell Carter about the bet, and how, at the time, when I was young and dumb, Paige was nothing but a wager and our night together didn’t mean anything. That what I feel for Carter, here and now, means something.
Doing that right now will land me with nothing but a broken bottle to the dick.
Carter’s protecting Paige. Even after learning who Lily’s father was and being left with no official plans laid out for Lily when Paige passed away, Carter’s protecting her best friend.
I look at her with fresh eyes and have to respect it.
“There you two lovebirds are!”
Asher’s booming voice comes through, loud and clear. Fuck, Ash, not now.
Carter cuts over to me. “Did you tell them—”
“No. Fuck no. They’re natural assholes.”
Ben’s leading the way through the crowd, but Asher acts like an efficient buffer to anyone who draws too near. Full of tats and some even reach up his neck. Most—if not all—of his chest is covered, and he’s recently started work on his calves.
I only know about this because his mother shrieks at him for it whenever he picks up his phone. Ash comes from old, old money, back in the Vanderbilt Railroad days, but one look at him and no one would figure his mother’s a dame.