Page 26 of A Forever Love
Her gaze briefly lowers as she tugs at the scarf, attempting to free it. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I refuse to release my hold. Maybe because I’m curious to see just how far she’ll take this display of defiance. My grip on the scarf strengthens, and I loop it once around my fist.
Her eyes widen, and a smirk involuntarily curves my lips as she exerts more force, furrowing her forehead in the process.
“Have you heard the phrase travel light, mittens?” My words come out slow, and satisfaction jerks in my chest when Merida’s gaze swipes over my face with a touch of hesitation. I want her to see what I’ve become in the last four years. All the softness I had has disappeared, as I lost two people I cared about the most—my mom and her. The ashes of my humanity now work as fuel to ignite this burning fire to be on top of the security business.
Would something have changed if she had still been here over the years?
Before the momentary weakness hits me with full force, her cat purrs and the scarf slips from my hand. Merida swiftly wraps it around her neck. Her words, even though stiff, come out in pants. “As I said before, you invited yourself to be my chauffeur and porter, King.”
“I have ways to get your unwieldy bags up to your apartment, which doesn’t involve either of us sweating like a dog.” Without breaking eye contact, I grab the end of her scarf and run it over her sweaty forehead.
“I don’t know what’s more offensive, the fact that you just compared me to a dog or the knowledge that these muscles you’re packing under this tight-fitted suit are just for show.” Merida flicks her braid over her shoulder, but before she can pivot and return to her crying kitten, I catch her by the forearm.
“These muscles aren’t for you.” I can’t help but enjoy her discomfort, the way she gulps, her breath skittering and pulse fluttering. “Scratch that, no muscles are for you, mittens. I’ll haul all of these bags filled with your books a hundred times up and down these stairs as long as what’s written in between those pages are the only things occupying your girly brain.”
“You…you…”
“Forgot your words?” I chuckle, finally taking a step back and immediately missing her jasmine smell. I never thought in a million years that it was possible, but I miss the scent that has haunted so many of my childhood memories. “Go upstairs with your cat. I’ll bring these up.”
“Are you going to ask—”
“I’m going to bring them myself.”
By the time I’m done lugging her heavy bags to the fourth floor, I’m sweating like a dog, and every joint in my body is screaming. After giving myself a few seconds, I straighten up and ring the doorbell. Merida shifts her weight from one foot to the other as she looks down at all her bags behind me, her cheeks turning pink.
“Remind me to leave the country when you decide to move back home.” I drag the bags inside, following her into the apartment.
She grins, passing me a bottle of water. “Thank you, not just for bringing my bags up but also for driving me here, even when I wasn’t the best company.”
The question of what happened sits right on the tip of my tongue. We were the best road-trip companions all our lives, for God’s sake. But I don’t want to ruin her mood or upset her again, so I say instead, “If only I knew that the way to make you smile these days is by working as a mule, I would have told you about the rock wall I created by stacking individual stones.”
“You didn’t.” She laughs before opening the biggest of her bags, which will eventually prove to be a dangerous move.
* * *
It’s been thirty minutes since I’ve stepped into Merida’s apartment, breathless and sweaty, and she’s gone into unpacking mode in full swing. Didn’t I say opening that bag was a dangerous move? But looking at the mess around me, I’m hit with another realization—even though some things might have changed with her, she’s still horrible at keeping her place in order.
“I need bookshelves.” Merida toes off her socks and frowns at the tall stack of books in one corner of her living room.
“And I need lunch.” I get up from my seat—a corner of the couch I’ve managed to keep clean while she turned the living room upside down. It now looks as if it was a victim of some robbery. “Let’s go. I’m starving.” I hold my hand out for Merida, who gives me no reaction, not even a nod.
Did she even hear me?
“Mere? Let’s go for lunch.” Still, silence. “Are you even listening?”
“Yes. Yes.” She finally turns around to face me, but only for a microsecond because once she spots another set of books behind me on her kitchen counter, Mere goes to place them on her never-ending book pile in the corner of the room. “I’m not hungry, and thank you so much for everything today, Carter.”
“Are you kicking me out?” The words tumble out of my mouth, and I have no chance to hide the shock behind them, which is possibly the reason Merida stops turning the pages of her book.
She flicks her tongue over her dry lips. “I don’t want to take up more of your time than I already have. I’m sure a busy CEO like you has more important things to do. Didn’t you have a meeting here?”
The hesitation in her voice, and the fact that I’m observing things about her that I shouldn’t, creates a quiver, rising from my neck and traveling down my spine. “I freed up my calendar for you today, except for an evening meeting.”
“You did?” Shock paints her face, and agitation consumes me in return.
“We used to spend all of our time together, Mere. Whenever you returned from a trip with your family or for school, you’d spill every detail to me, even down to the snacks you had on your stops. So, it felt natural to assume you’d need more than a few lunch appointments to catch up on the last four years of your life. Especially after you disappeared without a word. But I guess I was mistaken.” I take a step toward the main door of her apartment, ready to leave, when she tugs on the cuffs of my suit jacket.
“Did you really clear your schedule for me?” Merida asks, surprise dripping from her every word.