Page 14 of I Think He Knows
Carter has always been headstrong in achieving his goals. Working constantly, going above and beyond for every role—and while I will always support him in everything he puts his mind to doing, in my opinion, he’s way too hard on himself.
Carter frowns. “It’s the next logical step. What else would I work towards?”
“I know… I just think the Boss Lady works you too hard.” Elena is Carter’s manager and she’s a powerhouse of a woman. She’s singularly focused on achieving her goals, yet she’s consistently multitasking to the point that she never seems to be one hundred percent present in the moment. I do like her, but she can be cutthroat in a way that I could never envision being myself. “It would just be nice if you got to take a break once in a while.”
“That’s what these past two days were, Llama.” He pauses, and the tip of his tongue travels over his bottom lip. I am helpless to only watch, entranced. He has such a kissable mouth. I imagine.
“That wasn’t a break.” I shake my head. “That was a nosedive into deep exhaustion.”
Carter’s schedule is crazy. These past couple of days have been the first he’s had off in forever, and we made sure to use them well. Almost too well, in that he got no actual rest time. I worked double time in the week leading up to his visit, staying up into the wee hours of the morning so I could take some time off when he arrived. And boy, was it worth it. We stayed up late eating pizza and watching dumb movies like old times, hiked up Stone Mountain, took a drive out to Blue Ridge, and took Allegra to the zoo. Which was fun until a pack of teenage girls chased Carter for his autograph, despite his hat-and-sunglasses combo—AKA the weakest-ass disguise I’ve ever seen.
And while suggesting he take more breaks may be atadselfish (because of course I’d love him to be around more and travel less—it’s almost ironic that I’m the travel agent, yet I’m the one who never travels anywhere), it’s more so that I worry about him. I can tell that, underneath it all, these rumors and speculations are bothering him, and I think he’s becoming a little worn down as a result of them.
“I’ll catch up on sleep on the plane this afternoon, I promise.” That beautiful mouth of his suddenly stretches into a smile and I can’t tear my eyes away. “But you have to text me later to let me know how it all goes.”
“How what goes?” I ask, still fixated on his mouth.
“The date you’re going on tonight? Ring any bells?”
Oh, that.
“Will do. I’m sure I’ll have much hilarity to report. I’m so freaking nervous, there’s no way I’ll be normal.” I scoop my hair out of the way and offer him by back. “Now, let’s actually get me out of this dress.”
“Normal is overrated,” Carter says as he finally takes the zipper in his hand. “You’ve got this. And just remember: hope is the only thing stronger than fear.”
“Huh?”
“More sageHunger Gamesadvice.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” The zipper sinks to the base of my spine and his fingertips briefly graze my bare skin, sending a flurry of shivers through me. Carter’s voice grows throaty. “Oh, and Lan?”
“Yeah?” I look over my shoulder in time to see him remove his hand and take a big, big step backwards. Message received. Just like I heard it loud and clear when I told him a couple months ago that I was going on my first date in ten years, and he smiled broadly and said, “That’s great, Lan”. Like he was genuinely excited for me.
He shrugs as my eyes meet his. “For what it’s worth, I thought this one looked great on you.”
I ignore the tightness in my chest. “I think I’ll just wear that wrap dress I wore on my last date. I can’t be bothered doing any more shopping.”
“Well, you know my feelings on shopping.” I’m struck by how sweet it is that he’s spending his last day off work in the mall with me instead of doing something he actually likes. “I’m happy to bail at any time. And I’m sure it won’t matter what you wear, you’ll look amazing.”
See? This is why I love him. Always pumping me up, even when he risks being very, very wrong. As was demonstrated by the great Pillsbury experiment. “Thanks. Now, enough date talk. Let’s go get a pretzel or something.”
Because there’s nothing like a vat of salt and melted butter to drown your feelings.
I start to move away, but Carter puts a gentle hand on my arm, his eyes on mine. “You’ll be fine tonight, Lan. He’ll love you. How could he not?”
He has this weird look on his face that makes me suck in a breath. Makes me want to state the obvious answer:Easily. Because you don’t. Not the way I want you to, at least, which is why I decided to start dating again.
I just need to stop comparing every other man on the planet to Carter, and I’ll be fine diving back into the dating pool. Like the adorable little humpback that I am.
Instead of saying any of that, I rip my eyes away from his. “You’re right. How could he not?”
Carter’s expression changes, blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Just make sure not to tell him the story about when you sat in pineapple juice and everyone thought you’d peed yourself.”
I reach for a bust-enhancing, water-filled jiggly thingy from a nearby lingerie display, and throw it at him.
He catches it one-handed. Smiles. “A boob? For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.”