Page 63 of Expose on the Ice

Now?

Panic sets in as I glance around my messy apartment. Clothes are strewn over the back of my couch, and dirty dishes fill the sink. I’d been so consumed with the story – with Carter – that I’d let everything else slide.

I fire off a quick text with my address, then scramble to make the place somewhat presentable. As I shove a pile of laundry into my closet, my eyes land on the notepad on my desk. The one filled to the brim with Carter’s secrets.

For a moment, I hesitate. Then, decision made, I run to the kitchen sink and use some matches to set it alight. As I watch it burn, I smile. Whatever happens next, it won’t be because of what was written on those pages, it will be because of what’s in our hearts.

A while later, when I’vemostlyfinished my rushed tidy job around the apartment, there’s a knock on the door. My breathcatches in my throat because the idea of Carter coming to my place is different to Carter being here.

I open the door, my heart pounding as Carter stands before me. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks as exhausted as I feel. We stare at each other for a long moment before I step aside to let him inside my place.

"Thanks for coming, Carter" I say softly, closing the door behind him. "It’s good to see you."

Carter nods, his gaze sweeping around my apartment before settling back on me. "You said we needed to talk."

I take a breath, steeling myself, then I meet his eyes, willing him to see the sincerity in mine. "I won’t publish your story, Carter. Not the real one."

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

I sink onto the couch, gesturing for him to join me. As he sits, I continue, "I’ve been struggling with this assignment. The pressure to deliver a scoop, the fear of losing my job if I didn’t…" I shake my head. "But after what you told me in the elevator, I realized my career isn’t worth ruining your life over."

Carter’s expression softens and he sits, relief washing over his face. "Lily, I?—

I hold up a hand, needing to get this out. "Let me finish, please. If succeeding means betraying someone’s trust and exposing their deepest pain… that’s not the journalist I want to be. I found out about the cover-up long before you told me, and you telling me would make it a slam dunk, but I’m burying it."

I watch as Carter processes my words, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "What about your job?" he asks quietly.

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. "Oh, I’ll probably lose it. Frank’s been breathing down my neck for weeks, and without this story…" I shrug. "But I can live with that. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you more than you have been already by the leak of my notes."

His head tilts, curious. "Who leaked your notes?"

"I don’t know," I say. "Someone on the team. Or someonearoundthe team, at least. Only the contents of the notepad I carry in my bag made it into the story, whereas the one I keep at home – which had all the details about the cover-up, and I’ve now destroyed – didn’t."

He takes in the information without speaking, then nods. "We’ll handle that later."

"Okay," I say. "Carter, I need you to know I’m so?—

"Enough apologizing," Carter cuts me off, reaching out, hesitantly taking my hand in his. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through me. "You didn’t write the story, and you’re not responsible for someone stealing your notepad. We’ll figure out what comes next together, including a way to keep your career intact."

Relief washes over me like a warm summer rain. Maybe, just maybe, I can have it all – Carter and my career. The thought of finding another story, with his help no less, sends a thrill of excitement through me. Because, despite not wanting to hurt him, I do still want to have my career.

I look up at Carter, my heart pounding. His eyes, usually so guarded, are open and vulnerable. Before I can overthink it, I lean in and press my lips to his. The kiss is electric, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

Carter holds back at first, clearly deciding how he wants to respond to my sudden action, but then his hand cups my face and his thumb gently caresses my cheek as he deepens the kiss. I melt into him, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

Our lips move together with a desperate intensity, as if we’re trying to make up for all the lost time and misunderstandings. My hands can’t stay still, roaming over the smooth planes of hisback, the hard muscles tensing beneath his shirt. The sensation of his warmth seeps through, branding my fingertips.

I gasp as his hands begin to explore, sliding over my waist and down to my hips. His touch is possessive, commanding, like he can’t get enough, like he’s claiming me. One hand slides up my side, brushing the curve of my breast, and my breath hitches as heat pools low in my belly.

Carter deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking against mine in a way that makes my knees weak. I can taste the mingling flavors of desperation and need, and it drives me wild. My nails scrape lightly over his back, eliciting a groan from deep within his chest. The sound makes me ache for more.

His other hand moves down my back, squeezing my ass possessively before pulling me closer. Our bodies mold together, the hard length of his erection pressing against my thigh, making me gasp into his mouth. The friction is delicious, a promise of what’s to come.

He moves his lips to my neck, nibbling and sucking, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "I’ve waited for this," he whispers.

I can’t hold back a moan as his teeth graze my pulse point. My hips move instinctively against him, seeking more of that intoxicating friction. Carter’s hands roam over me, one tracing the line of my bra strap before slipping beneath the material to cup my breast.

"Oh, Carter," I breathe, my voice a mix of need and impatience.