Page 35 of A Forever Love
“I don’t want you to change. I never did.” The truth escapes me before I can filter it.
“I could say the same thing, but I guess I never got a chance.”
“I’m still me, beneath all this.” I gesture toward the balcony.
He runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, but I missed my friend, and this new version of you scares me.”
“You’re the strongest man, Carter. You shouldn’t be scared of anyone.”
10
CARTER
After our meal, Merida clears the table while I find myself incapable of diverting my eyes from her. Each time I blink, even for an instant, her image reappears in my mind. Dressed in a plush pink robe with a hood covering her loose red curls, she looks like any man’s wet dream.
For heaven’s sake, it’s Merida. The girl I gave piggyback rides.
But the more I dwell on that memory, the more distanced she seems from the woman who’s now filling my thoughts with these controversial images.
“Would you like a drink?” She’s by the partially open swinging door, holding a bottle of white wine. Her night shorts and oversized T-shirt aren’t remotely indecent, yet in this moment, she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Please tell me you’re not drowning your troubles in alcohol already,” I half joke.
“The only trouble I have right now is you, King.” Merida grins, but for some reason, her words rub me the wrong way.
There was a time when I could read her thoughts like a polygraph machine, but these four years apart have turned my familiar caterpillar into a beautiful, enigmatic butterfly.
“No witty comeback? What are you thinking?” She sets two glasses on the table.
“Nothing. Just had a fleeting comparison of you and an insect in my head.”
“I’m entertaining you only because you brought food. Otherwise, I’m very protective of my privacy at night,” Merida quips, yet I can’t help but notice how effortlessly she uncorks the wine bottle, as though it’s a daily routine.
“Are you sure you’re not secretly developing a drinking habit?”
“You’re seriously aiming to be thrown out, aren’t you?” Her question hangs in the air, and when I offer no immediate response, she lets out a deep sigh. “Kristy gave me this bottle on my first day at work. I haven’t felt like drinking it alone.” She shrugs. “Do you want some or not?”
I take one of the flutes from the table. “Thanks. What are you typically doing when you’re not dealing with unexpected visitors?”
“Reading.”
Her response tugs a smile to my lips. “And?”
“Reading some more.”
“No K-dramas?” I playfully nudge her shoulder, appreciating the familiarity in her response.
“Only on weekends.”
“Why the strange rule, mittens?”
She looks at me from above her glass, and the mischievous glint in her eyes warms my chest. “I figured out pretty quickly that without Dad checking if I’m asleep, I have zero self-control when it comes to K-dramas. Those gorgeous men with their age-defying, flawless skin and panty-melting smiles rob me of sleep.”
I spew out the expensive wine instead of taking it in. “Panty what? I thought you used to watch them because they had intricate plots.”
“That was back when I was fifteen. Now, at twenty-one, I wait for the final episodes when they finally take their shirts off after all that sexy, slow-burn buildup.”
I find myself unable to speak a single word as Merida continues to share her last binge-watching marathon with me. Then, my world momentarily spins when she casually props her legs up on the table. My gaze becomes fixated on her toned legs and thighs, especially as her blue shorts ride up slightly. Sitting next to me on the rattan couch, this woman is stirring up all sorts of thoughts in my mind. Her green-painted toenails and the delicate silver anklet on her left foot make me want to do things I shouldn’t even be thinking about. Everything about her tempts me, which is so fucking wrong.