“Well then, I think I’ll be comfortable enough for the night.” As if to prove it, Carter sits on the couch and casually rests his arm along the back. “How are you feeling?”
“The room is a little fuzzy around the edges.”
He raises a brow. “You should probably lie down. Point me toward the linen closet. I’ll make up the couch.”
“Follow me,” I tell him, leading him down the hall.
I open the narrow closet, and we reach in at the same time. Our fingers brush together, and I freeze.
Maybe it’s the painkillers; maybe it’s the unusual circumstance, but I go all warm and tingly.
“Do you need anything else? I ask, shifting a hair closer. “Water? A snack?”
Me?
“I’m good.” He tucks the blankets under his arm. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.” I stand here, staring at him.
A wicked smile flickers across his face, and he cocks his head to the side. “Do you need help finding your bed?”
Imagine all the responses that flit through my drug-addled brain.
“Goodnight,” I finally say and hurry down the hall, escaping into the safety of my bedroom.
I’m so tired, I barely have the energy to change, but I somehow manage to pull on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. Then I fall on the bed, close my eyes, and try to ignore the man in my living room.
* * *
I wake to a knock on my bedroom door and blink my eyes open.
“Addison?” Carter calls from the hall.
Groggy, I roll to my side and look at the alarm clock. It’s after ten.
I’m about to answer when the door cracks open. “Addison?”
I pull myself up, dragging sheets along with me even though I’m decent.
Carter smiles, taking in my sleep-rumpled self. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I say, and my mouth is all dry and cottony. I must have slept like the dead. I run a hand over my face, trying not to think about how awful I look.
“I was getting worried about you.” He leans a shoulder against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, looking a little too at home for my good. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t OD on painkillers in the middle of the night. You were pretty out of it last night.”
Hazy memories dance in front of my eyes. With dread, I wonder what I said to him while I was drugged.
“Funny,” I say.
“You want some coffee?”
I slowly drag my eyes up to meet his. “You made coffee?”
“Do you mind?”
“No,” I say instantly.
It’s just that the thought of him moving about in my kitchen, comfortable in my space, makes me want to play house with him in the worst way.
“I’d love some,” I tell him.
He pushes away from the door and disappears down the hall. The instant he’s gone, I gingerly slip from the bed and survey the damage in the mirror over my dresser.
Oh my word. I look like I slept under a bridge.
Knowing I don’t have much time, I quickly rub the mascara smudges away, flip my hair over my head and toss it to give it some volume, and then hurry back to the bed as quickly as my smarting tailbone will allow.
Two seconds later, Carter appears with my coffee, but this time he doesn’t stop at the door.
He’s two steps into my room, then three steps. Four, five, and here. Right next to the bed. Even though he’s in yesterday’s clothes, he’s all clean and fresh. In fact, I’m pretty sure he helped himself to my shower.
He was in my shower. Getting all soapy and…
“Careful, it’s hot,” he warns.
Maybe if the remnants of the prescription drugs weren’t in my system, I wouldn’t let out a throaty giggle. But they are, and I do.
Carter pauses after he passes me the steaming mug, and a smile ghosts across his face.
Avoiding his eyes, I take a sip of the coffee—he even remembered to add some of the vanilla creamer I keep in the fridge.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets, hovering near the edge of my bed.
“Better, I think.”
He nods and then looks around, taking in my room. It’s bright and airy, with white bedding and cream-colored walls.
“I’ve never had a guy in here before,” I say, thinking out loud, immediately wishing I could take it back.
A smile crosses his face for a nanosecond. “I’m the first, huh?”
I stare at my coffee, and my cheeks get hot. “Let’s pretend I didn’t say that.”
Laughing under his breath, he sits next to me, studying me in the diffused morning light. “How’s the coffee?”
“Good,” I squeak.
He’s right there, with a shadow along his strong jaw, and this feels ridiculously domestic. It must be like this for Jessa and Franklin, coexisting together. I’ve never been able to picture it because I’ve never gotten close to anyone.
“Hold still,” he says suddenly, leaning forward.
I freeze, and my eyes go wide. Then Carter’s hand is on my face, and I can barely breathe. I close my eyes, and his thumb brushes my cheek.
“There,” he says, sitting back.
My eyes flutter open.
“You had an eyelash,” he explains.
Don’t look disappointed, I command myself.
“What?” He shifts a tiny bit closer. “Did you think I was going to kiss you?”
“No,” I say immediately. I force a laugh. “What? Of course not.”
And then he’s moving in again, and just like last night, my gaze drops to his lips. His smile grows, causing my heart to leap.
“Addison,” he commands, making me look at him.
Unable to resist, I look up. Without breaking eye contact, he takes my mug and sets it on the nightstand. And now he’s closer, and I’m dying in the best way.
“Did you want me to kiss you?” he asks, his voice a shade darker.
“No,” I whisper, though it’s obvious I mean yes.
He laughs softly and slides his hand into my hair, brushing along my cheek with his thumb once more. “Not even a little bit?”
It’s exquisite torture, too much, but in the best way. I close my eyes and lean into his touch.
I don’t know what we’re doing, but I don’t care—not until I realize I haven’t brushed my teeth. I can’t let this, whatever it might be, happen with morning breath.
With that thought bouncing around in my head, I jerk back. The unexpected move startles Carter, and he sits back as well.
Without a word, I leave the bed, stalk into my bathroom, and close the door. Why didn’t I brush my teeth while he was getting my coffee?
On that note, why didn’t I set an alarm last night so I could be rumpled in a purposefully sexy way when he came to wake me?
I’m just spitting out the toothpaste when the doorbell rings. Unlike last time Carter was here, I’m not expecting Jessa today. I turn off the sink, wondering if I’m hearing things. But no—there it is again.
I hurry out of the bathroom and find Carter standing in my room, looking unsure what to do.
“It’s probably a salesman,” I tell him.
Then the front door opens, and my dad calls, “Addison?”
Nope, definitely not a salesman.
Carter swears under his breath and whispers, “Does everyone have a key to your house?”
Panicking, I look around, trying to figure out where to hide him. I could just close the door—it’s not like my dad will come into my room. But what if he does?
I end up shooing Carter into the closet and pressing a finger over my mouth, telling him to keep quiet.
Before I can close the door, he grins and leans close, capturing my hips with his hands. “You know, usually when a guy gets shoved into a closet, he’s had a little fun first.”
“Shhh!” I reprimand with a flighty laugh. “Stay here until I get rid of him.”
Carter
’s eyes are oddly bright considering what my father would do to his career if he found him here. “And then what?”
He’s still holding me, his hands warm through the thin cotton material of my yoga pants.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
Nodding, he steps back, allowing me to close the door on him.
I hurry into the living room and find my dad flipping through my mail and Lydia sitting on the couch, petting Cocoa. I’m not exactly thrilled to see the two of them, but my dog sure is. His eyes are bright, and his tongue hangs out, looking at me as if to say, “Look! We have company!”
Dad motions to a stack of credit card applications on an end table. “You need to shred these.”
“I’m planning on it. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet,” I tell him.
He frowns when he realizes I’m still in pajamas. “Did you just get up?”
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask instead of answering his question.
“Do you feel okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Lydia stands. “We stopped by to see if you wanted to go to brunch. Your dad has some work to do at the shop after, and I thought you might like to go shopping with me. We can look for an outfit for your date.”
Date!
Why do I keep forgetting that?
“You know, I’m actually not feeling great,” I say, and it’s not even a lie. I’m definitely due for some painkillers, though I might stick with the over-the-counter stuff considering how badly the prescription knocked me out last night. “I think I’m going to take it easy this afternoon.”
“But you said you were fine,” Dad argues, and I resist the urge to rub my temples.
Just go already.
It takes fifteen whole minutes to get them out the door, and even when they leave, making me promise to call later, I hover near the entry. I’m half terrified they’re going to pop back in.
Only once I hear their car pull out of the drive and roll down the street do I walk back to my bedroom. Cocoa bounces along with me, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“I’ll feed you in a minute,” I tell him.
I open my closet door and smile when I find Carter standing amongst my dresses and shirts, looking bored.
“Are they gone?”
“I think so,” I say. “Sorry.”
He shrugs. “If I had a quarter for every time I’ve been shoved into a closet…”
“Really?” I ask him, aghast.
He laughs—a warm, rich sound. “No, Addison, not really.”
Before the moment can get awkward—or much, much better—Cocoa plops on the floor directly between us and lets out a loud, pathetic bark.
“Are you that hungry?” I ask him.
He wags his tail. I’ll take that as a yes.
“I’ll feed him,” Carter says, already moving toward the hall.
I watch him go, feeling oddly dejected. I guess our moment is over. I’m not even sure what destroyed it—my desperate need to brush my teeth, my dad barging in, or my starving dog.
Whatever it was, I wish I could go back and fix it.
16
I know I can’t date Addison, but would I be a jerk if I asked her to skip her date with Gio?
Don’t answer that.
While I was in her closet, I could hear her talking to her dad. When Lydia brought up her date, it was like a fist jammed in my stomach.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive home?” I ask Addison when I pull her car into the community center parking area. My truck is right where I left it the night before. Normally, I wouldn’t leave it anywhere overnight. But yesterday was different.
Spending the night on Addison’s couch was equal parts temptation and agony. Knowing she was just in the other room made it impossible to sleep, especially after the whole cinnamon gum episode in the hospital. The fact that Cocoa thought he needed out three times between the hours of two and four didn’t help either.
I’m tired, I’m unreasonable, and I guarantee you I would have kissed Addison if her dad hadn’t shown up this morning. If we were together, the first thing I would do is pay to have her house locks changed. But we’re not together. We can’t be together.
I was doing pretty good, focusing on work, and then last night completely derailed me. I don’t know what I’m going to do.
“I’m fine,” she answers after I put the car in park. She scans the area and then opens the door, trying to hide her donut pillow, acting like it was stolen from the back of a truck.
I smile to myself but keep quiet. Addison’s fun to tease, but I know where the line is. She’s pretty touchy about the pillow.
As quickly as possible, she rounds the car and places the pillow in the driver’s seat. She accepts my offered hand and slowly sits, gingerly turning in the seat to face forward. “I’m taking the next week off.”
“What?”
Addison looks up, her expression solemn. “I won’t go to work with this thing. You know the guys—they’ll never let me live it down. So I’m going to take vacation leave next week. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it.”
I lean against the car. “They’ll give you a hard time, sure, but they’ll wait on you hand and foot. You’re already a princess around there; can you imagine if you upped your status to damsel in distress?”
She wrinkles her nose, looking awfully cute. “Damsel in distress is a step up?”
Laughing, I shake my head.
I have the strongest desire to lean down and kiss her goodbye—tell her I’ll bring takeout this evening, and we’ll hang out. But that’s not my place, and she has a date.
I have to ask—it will mess with my head all night if I don’t.
“Are you still going out with Gio this evening?”
She scowls as she gestures to the pillow. “With this? I don’t think so. I’ll call him to reschedule.”
Reschedule. Not cancel. Reschedule.
I force a friendly smile and step back. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
She looks up at me and bites her bottom lip. After several seconds, she says, “Thank you, Carter. For everything.”
“Sure.”
I expect her to start the car, but she messes with the seat, the visor…the mirrors. Finally, she looks back at me. “What are you doing tonight?”
Again, I imagine spending the evening with her…and then I remember that she’s going to reschedule her date with Gio.
“I’m going to work on a project in the garage,” I tell her, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Oh.” She looks at her lap, disappointed. “Well…have fun.”
I almost break. Almost. But nothing good can come from us crossing that line. (Okay, some good things. Lots of good things in fact. But they’re tempered with a whopping dose of headache.)
“Bye, Carter,” she says through the open window, and then she starts her car and pulls away. I stand here, staring after her, and shake my head when I’m alone.
My phone rings as I’m walking to my truck. The number looks vaguely familiar, but it’s not saved in my contacts. “Hello?”
“Hey, Carter,” a female voice purrs.
“Hey…” I have no idea who it is.
The woman laughs. “Vanessa.”
Right…but which one? I don’t dare ask—women tend to get fussy about that sort of thing.
“I ended up with a couple of Diamondbacks tickets for this evening,” she says. “And, of course, I thought of you. What do you say? Want to drive to Phoenix?”
I’m not one to turn down a free baseball ticket, but I’m really not in the mood, especially when I haven’t the slightest idea which Vanessa I’m talking to. It might be Vanessa with the long blond hair…or it might be Vanessa with the rhinestone sunglasses and the purse dog with the buggy eyes.
“Who are they playing?” I ask out of morbid curiosity.
“The Rockies.”
It could get my mind off Addison, and it would be a shame to let t
hose tickets go to waste.
“All right,” I say, though I regret it the moment the words leave my mouth.
“Great! Meet me at my house in, say, an hour?”
If I knew where that was…
“Remind me where you live?”
She sounds suspicious as she rattles off her address, but not so much so that she calls me on it.
I have just enough time to change my clothes, so I head back to my place. It’s quiet when I walk inside, and a lot messier than it was when Jessa was still here, picking things up. I’m going to have to work on that.
It’s a strange thing. I never thought I’d miss my sister. In fact, all through her engagement, I was counting down the days until I had my house to myself—I even kept a calendar on the fridge and crossed them out one by one. She’d roll her eyes each morning over her veggie omelet, but she’d always end up laughing.
But now the house seems too quiet, too still.
Maybe I should get a dog—one like Cocoa. In fact, Cocoa himself would be just right, especially if Addison came along with him. Two for the price of one.
I rub a hand over my face. Judging from my squirrel-like train of thought, I need more sleep. I should probably call Vanessa back and tell her she’ll need to find someone else.
Instead, I change my clothes, putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt I didn’t sleep in, and check the time on my phone. I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.
I don’t recognize the route to the house, and the ritzy subdivision only looks vaguely familiar. Fortunately, I figure it out when I pull into the drive. Unfortunately, Sparkly Sunglasses Vanessa is on the porch waiting for me, and it’s too late to escape.
“Carter!” she calls as soon as I step out of the truck, trotting toward me with her bug-eyed purse dog precariously perched under her arm.
“Hey, Vanessa,” I say, reaching a hand out to pet the mutt.
It growls.
I remove my hand.
“You up for some baseball?” she asks, giving me a come-hither smile and grasping my arm as if she’s worried I’m going to run away—a legitimate fear.
Vanessa’s undeniably beautiful. She has long brown hair, pretty blue eyes, and is slender but curvy in the right places. She’s also slightly abrasive. Her laugh is a little too loud, and she’s always right there in your space. But she’s a nice girl, and I’m not going to bail on her now.
27 Ways to Find a Boyfriend Page 10
