Page 48 of A Forever Love
“What changed?” he asks.
The reality is that so many things lead to that change. But I share the one which should spark the least number of questions from him. “Brandon transferred to my university. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. We went on hikes during the weekends, participated in language exchange programs—”
“Did you also date?” He interrupts my words and train of thought with a single question.
“Brandon and me?” I can’t help but laugh at that absurd idea.
“What’s there to laugh about? He was your prom date, someone you’d known for years. He obviously cares about you. But I meant more in general. Did you date?” His gaze meets mine, a brewing tempest hidden behind his composed demeanor, but I choose to overlook it.
“Carter, I was in college, where eighty percent of the students were thinking about free food or sex at least five months a semester. Of course I dated,” I reply with a nonchalant shrug, hiding the fact that it took me more than a year and a dare from Brandon.
“It seems there might have been more than one guy,” Carter remarks, his grip on the knife tightening.
“Carter King, are you actually jealous?”
And instantly, his fleeting vulnerability dissipates, and he transforms back into the commanding CEO. “I never get jealous over another guy, mittens. My girl always knows she can play with anyone she likes during the day, but she will be returning home to me at night.”
His unexpected words leave me speechless, my mouth parched.
One sentence, yet laden with layers of meaning. What does he mean by “play” and “returning home”? And how many girls have held the title of being “his girl”?
Yet, all these questions remain lodged in my throat as Carter’s intense gaze drills into me, as though daring me to formulate a response.
Thankfully, an interruption comes at the door, saving me from the intensity of the moment. The sound of the doorbell is initially muted to my ears, but a smile forms on Carter’s lips. It’s a smile I’ve never witnessed before—his dimples are deeper, and his mouth curves on one side. It’s an intoxicating blend of irresistible temptation and pure ecstasy.
“Someone’s at the door, mittens.”
“Huh?” I drawl. My gaze remains locked on his mouth as it forms words, and although I can hear him speaking, the meaning struggles to fully register in the processing part of my brain.
Maintaining the devastating smile that seems to sap away my brain cells, Carter abandons the knife on the countertop and strides toward me. His unwavering stare pins me in place, and with every step he takes, my heartbeats become the rhythm of an impending storm, a tornado of emotions within me.
Finally, when he’s right before me, he gently holds my shoulders and turns me toward the door. His warmth envelops me as he leans in, his lips hovering just a breath away from my ear. The sensation of his heated breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine, causing my eyes to involuntarily shut. His voice, velvety and deep, brushes over me like honey, creating a swirl of emotions within.
“Answer the door, Merida,” he murmurs, leaving me in a tangled web of emotions.
“Yes, alright,” I mumble, my steps feeling like they’re guided by some distant force. As I reach the door, my heart still thudding, I take a moment to collect myself. Pressing my forehead against the cool surface of the door, I listen to the voices outside, making sure Carter isn’t nearby to witness my unsteady state.
When I open the door, I’m confronted by three tall gentlemen, their figures reminding me of some elite athletic group.
“We’ve got a delivery for you, miss,” one of them finally says, while I just stand there like a statue.
“But I didn’t order anything,” I manage to respond, my confusion gradually giving way to focus.
“Are you not Merida Adams?”
“Yes, I am, but—”
“It’s been ordered by Carter King. Do you know him?”
“Oh,” I murmur, glancing back toward the living room, considering calling out to Carter. However, before I can, the second guy speaks up.
“It’s quite heavy. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get it placed quickly.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Though confused, I give way to the trio as they maneuver a sizable piece of furniture into my apartment.
“Did you order something?” I ask Carter, once back in the living room.
“It arrived?” he replies to my question with one of his own before turning off the flame and joining me and the guys.