It’s fine. It is. Running out on my old life, brought me to Carter—and to what is supposed to be a perfect day that he and Quinn painstakingly prepared for.
Carter catches my eye from across the room and I watch the momentary blip of confusion on his face, the way his brows pull down in the middle. But he shakes it right off and a smile stretches across that gorgeous, trusting face.
“Shay! Come join the party!” he calls.
I want to run away.
Again.
I take a slow step toward them. One foot in front of the other. I keep my eyes on Carter. This is easy. One slight glance toward Nolan, though, and my heart picks up pace.
What the hell is he doing here? I stumble just as a hand clutches my elbow, steadying me.
“You alright, Shayna? Too much champagne already? Didn’t realize you were such a lightweight.” Ben says.
“I’m fine, I just—”
“Just avoiding the soon to be in laws?” He jokes. “I hear you on that one. The MacPherson’s scare the shit out of me.”
“Something like that,” I say.
Ben must catch site of Nolan because he bristles next to me.
“Didn’t realize you were close to Nolan, either.” Ben takes a sip of his beer, and cuts his eyes at me.
It’s been nice with all of us living so close. One big happy family. And yet, with all that closeness, none of them know about Nolan Bryant. Except I did tell Quinn.
“I’m not. I don’t know what he’s doing here,” I say. “How do you know him?”
“My parents go to his parents’ church,” he says. “He’s kind of a dick, huh?”
Ben takes a long drink from his glass.
“He’s… conservative,” I say. I want to ask what kind of run-in Ben has had with him, but that might look like I care too much. I can’t believe Nolan didn’t tell me he’d be coming. It feels off somehow. It feels like sabotage.
“Also, Quinn mentioned that you were seeing a Nolan back home at one point.”
Ben tips his chin down and cocks a small smile. “Didn’t expect him to show up here today, huh?”
“Not exactly.”
“Come on, Shay. You’re tough. Let’s go face the music.”
Ben leads me over to the group.
“Mr. and Mrs. MacPherson, it’s good to see you again,” Ben says. Carter and Quinn’s parents make a few noncommittal noises, no actual attempt at conversation and mostly just keep drinking.
My parents look a little more relaxed than they did when they first got here. They don’t socialize with people outside of the church all that often, so coming out for a party in California didn’t exactly fall within their confines of comfort.
They weren’t even sure at first how to act when I introduced them to Carter. He isn’t at all what they pictured for me, but that’s okay. We’re slowly learning to accept that we have different ideas about most everything—except what makes us a family. Them traveling all this way for a birthday party is a prime example.
“You’re our daughter, it’s your birthday. Of course we want to be there,” Dad told me when I called and invited him, half expecting him to scoff at the idea of a grand party to celebrate someone who hasn’t exactly had a banner year.
“Happy Birthday, Shayna,” Nolan says. He clutches at my hands and pulls me in to kiss me on the cheek. The whole time, Carter’s eyes are burning holes into the side of Nolan’s head. “You remember me, right?”
The question confuses me. I don’t know if he’s doing it for Carter’s benefit or as a joke but I smile politely and say, “Of course I remember you. It’s been a couple of months, not a couple of decades.”
“We haven’t been introduced,” Carter says, his mouth tight. He extends his hand to Nolan and they shake. “I’m Carter MacPherson.”
Carter pauses, waiting for some sort of name recognition from Nolan, but it doesn’t come. Because I never told Nolan about Carter at all. The last time we spoke was the day he took me to lunch, and I steered the conversation mostly around my parents—at the time, Carter wasn’t even speaking to me. I definitely didn’t want to mention that to him.
“And you are?” Carter presses.
“Nolan Bryant,” Nolan says. “I’m a friend of the family.”
“Ah,” Carter says, raising an eyebrow and still seeming unsatisfied. I clutch onto his bicep that is strained under his neatly pressed dress shirt. His face changes a little, like something clicks together for him.
“Nolan’s father is also a minister back home,” I say.
“Small world,” Carter says. He polishes off the rest of his ginger ale, ice and all. He cringes a little and I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with all of this alcohol around. That damn waitress that keeps passing by to offer us all drink after drink. I told Carter when he was making plans that we didn’t need to have alcohol here at all, but always the damn martyr, he didn’t want to put anyone else out. It has to be torture on him. And now this weird vibe between him and Nolan? He doesn’t need this. We don’t need this.
“I had a job interview out this way, so David and Trish were kind enough to invite me to the party,” Nolan says.
“You’re moving here?” Quinn asks. I didn’t realize she was even paying attention, but I guess it’d be hard not to in such close proximity.
“No, it’s actually for a job in London, but the interview was here,” Nolan says.
I feel my ears tingle with nervousness. What if he tells them all that I met him for lunch a while back? There’s no harm in it, but damn this is not the place for the big reveal.
“London, wow,” Quinn says. Her mood perks up a little. Quinn dreams big and wants to travel the world, Europe especially. “That sounds amazing! Did the interview go well?”
Nolan pushes his shoulders back and has a little gleam of pride in his eye when he says, “Well, it was actually the second interview. I think it did. I hope so. Though I wouldn’t mind coming back out for a third interview if I got to catch up with you, Shay.”
Oh, fuck me.
“Mom, did you taste the caprese bites Quinn made?” I interrupt. “The produce here is so fresh, right?”
Nolan catches on. He knows he’s pushing too far into territory I’m not comfortable with.
I know because he winks at me.
Winks.
I glance quickly at Carter and hold my breath.
He saw it, too.
“It was good to see everyone, huh?” Carter asks, sitting on the ottoman we picked out together at that funky Scandinavian place a couple of weeks back. It’s the first piece of furniture that is ours. There was a jewelry shop next door that I peered in the window of while Carter talked on his cell phone. Someone from work. He’s been putting in a ton of extra hours lately, trying to make up for the time that he slacked. He’s been working hard to rebuild his name at the company. He wants to prove to them that he’s just as good as he was in the early days. I have to admit, it boggles my mind that they liked him better when he was drinking—not that they knew that, of course, but still.
I stared in the window, checking out the diamond encrusted watches, tennis bracelets and engagement rings. I figured he’d be a while, but he surprised me by peering over my shoulder and pointing to the exact ring I’d been admiring.
“That one,” he said.
“What?” I asked, not wanting to appear too eager.
He let his hand slide down arm, all the way to my ring finger and traced a band around it with his own fingertip. “That one would look perfect on you,”
I spun toward him, “Carter? Have you been drinking?”
It slipped out. I didn’t mean it as anything but a stupid joke. But I watched the giddy look on his face fall.
“Not funny. Nevermind, let’s go.”
“Carter, wait!”
But it was too late. I’d killed the moment and we drove home in silence.
I wonder if this moment, this otherwise perfect night will be ruined, too.
Because I have to tell him. I have to tell him that Nolan is a guy from my past. A friend now, yes, but someone I was close to.
“It was,” I nod. I pull my bottom lip in and bite down.
“What’s wrong?” Carter asks. He lines his shoes up neatly. Neat—just like our life together was headed. Until tonight.
“Do you… do you think everyone had a good time?”
“Absolutely.”
“I could never really tell with your mom. She’s got quite the poker face.”
Carter chuckles lightly. “Yeah, Mom is pretty famous for that. I’m actually surprised my parents came, to be honest. No offense to you, but… you know.” He stands and grabs me at the waist, pulling me into him. “I don’t really want to talk about my mom right now.”
“You don’t?” I slide my fingers up the front of his dress shirt and then get started on the buttons. “What would you like to talk about, Mr. MacPherson?”
“This, maybe?” I pull his bottom lip into my mouth and feel the groan leave him and sink into me.
My lips travel down his neck, nip at his Adam’s apple. “This?”
“That’s a damn good start, but—”
“You’ve got a ‘but’, MacPherson, really?”
He pulls back from me.
“There is something I want to talk to you about.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, reaching for his belt loop to pull him back toward me, but he flinches away.
Instead, he sits back down on the ottoman and stares up at me.
This isn’t right.
“I’ve been going back and forth all night about whether or not to bring it up,” he says. I silently plead with him to choose not to.
It doesn’t work.
“But it’s gnawing at me. That Nolan guy.”
And just like that, the spell is broken.
I flinch before asking, “What about him?”
“What was he doing at the party?”
“You heard him. He’s a family friend. Plus, he had that interview in the area.”
Carter links his fingers through mine and works his neck back and forth, weighing my answer.
“I know what he said. But more than that, I know how Nolan was looking at you.”
“Are you saying I didn’t deserve to be looked at?” I joke. “This dress? Really?”
Carter gives a small chuckle. But I know him too well and know that it isn’t sincere.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Then so what. So what if he was looking at me. The cocktail server—the one that kept coming back to offer you drinks no matter how many times you turned her down? I almost offered to wipe the drool off of her chin.”
“I seem to remember a few late night phone calls from you Shayna. I may be wrong, but I could swear you mentioned the guy you were dating—Nolan.”
I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat that tells me everything is exploding in my face. Again. The one that is a sign that I should grab my shit and run.
“We saw each other for a while. Never anything serious, though.”
Carter chuckles and it’s an infuriating sound. I’m standing here trying to tell the truth. I’m trying to make things okay. “What does it matter? You came to the party with me. You went home with me.”
“It matters because I saw him with you, Shay.”
“What?”
“I saw him with you. On the pier.”
“What are you talking about, Carter?” My mind is working in overdrive. It clicks through memories with Nolan at warp speed before slowing down like the spinner on a game of Life and then settling on that night. It feels like so long ago. Before Carter and I were even an us.
“What?”
“I saw you. With him.” Carter stands up and loosens the collar of his shirt. He’s close enough that I can smell the musky scent of his cologne, spiked with anger. “And I want to know what the hell he’s doing here now.”
I’m trying not to be angry. If I’m honest, I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of room to be.
I had months to tell her that I saw them together that night. But part of me knew it was better left buried. Plus that, no one knows better than I do how important trust is.
The thing is, trusting someone else is scary as hell, and I think it’s ten times harder when it’s someone you care about so much, the thought of being without them makes your heart stop in your damn chest.
“So, wait. Back up,” Shayna says, her gorgeous lips trembling with fury. “If I’m hearing you right, you’re telling me that the night that I found you on the curb—that night that you almost had a drink—that was because you saw Nolan and I on the pier together?”
I reach for her hand, knowing that if I can just touch her, just explain this carefully, it will all be okay. But she yanks her hand back and starts pacing. Damnit. I realize I’m screwed as she walks back and forth, back and forth, her legs setting a frantic pace.
She’s doing it again.
I try to speak calmly, to offset some of her nervous energy. “I’d already left work upset. I set out to grab a drink. Seeing you making out with him was just an added bonus, I guess.”
Shayna laughs, but it’s accompanied by an icy glare. “We were hardly making out, Carter.”
My memory flips back to that day, the way he had his hands on her, and my vision burns red. The worst part is, I know he’s probably a better guy than I am. I knew he’s the kind of guy she deserves. He’s probably got his shit together, got a sure future. Interviews for jobs in London? For me, every single day is a battle to do the right thing, make the right choice, and that will never change. It might get better, get easier, but the threat will never go away completely.
I can’t keep the bitter edge out of my voice. “That’s not how it looked from my vantage point.”
“We’re just friends,” she snaps as her heels click back and forth across the floor.
“Friends,” I spit the word out. I swear if I have to hear that word again I’m going to get an ulcer.
“Friends,” Shayna repeats coolly. “I haven’t even talked to him in weeks.”
“But he came tonight? Even though you aren’t in touch?”
“Wow, so you seriously don’t trust me?”
“That’s not true.”
Shayna grabs her sweater off of the back of the chair. “I can’t believe you. You don’t trust me.”
“Where are you going?” I’m suddenly desperate. I’ll do anything to get her to stay—I don’t want her to walk a single step out that door angry with me.
“You kept this a secret for months, Carter. You had every single opportunity to tell me—to let me explain. But you kept it to yourself to what? Use against me someday?”
“I wasn’t using it against you.”
“It sure feels like it. Why wouldn’t you just tell me if it bothered you?”
“Shay, this was such a great night—”
“And then you ruined it. I’m going to go by my parent’s hotel. I want to spend a little more time with them before they leave tomorrow.”
“Shayna—”
But she’s gone.
“Look at you, calling your little sister for help,” Quinn says, letting herself in. I called her to come over after Shayna took off. “What’d you do this time?”
“I fucked up.” I deadpan.
“I gathered that. Could you be more specific?”
“I freaked out about that guy Nolan showing up.”
“Nolan? Seriously? C’mon, Carter, Shayna isn’t into him.”
“I know that,” I say.
“Well if you knew that, why’d you freak out?”
“Because, fuck I don’t know. I guess I still don’t feel like I deserve her. Because it’s hard not to keep telling myself that we should just be friends. When he showed up—it was like a reminder of what she could have if she weren’t with me.”
“Well that’s annoyingly self-depreciating,” Quinn says with a laugh. “But I’
ve been exactly there.”
“Yeah?”
Quinn nods. “Um, if you’ll remember, it wasn’t exactly an easy road for Ben and me ending up together. I pushed him away for a long time. But you know what I think, Carter?”
“I’d like to know, that’s sort of why I called you over here.”
“I think that you’re trying too hard to classify what you and Shayna have. To make it fit into this pretty mold that you can easily define and explain. That’s just who you are, it’s how your mind works. You’re all numbers, facts, things that add up and make perfect sense.”
“Okay,” I say, not really clear on where she’s going with this.
“That’s stupid,” my sister deadpans.
“Perfect. This was an awesome pep talk, Quinnlette. You may want to have Ben help you brush up on your bedside manner, though.”
“No, what I mean is, your idea that love can be so easily defined is stupid.”
Once again, my sister is just full of positive reinforcement.
“You do love her, right?” Quinn asks.
“I do,” I say, my voice a little strangled. I feel my chest squeeze because I haven’t said it out loud before. I clear my throat and try again, this time, stronger. Because that’s what Shayna needs. That’s what she deserves. Someone strong. Sure. “I do. I love her. I just don’t know if it’s what she needs from me. I can’t even act like a human when I see her with an old friend.”
Quinn laughs. “Hey, Ben is pretty damn easy going, but he probably would have had the same initial reaction. I’d say it was pretty human, Carter. Cut yourself a little slack.”
“It’s all new to me. I didn’t plan on Shayna—not in my life like this.”
“Do you think anyone plans to be gutted by love?”
“I just don’t want to screw it up before it even really gets started. I don’t want to fuck it up and then end up losing her altogether.”
Quinn’s voice goes serious. Thoughtful. “One thing I’ve learned is that how you love someone is always evolving. To me, one of the most ignorant beliefs out there is that you can only love someone one way. And that that particular way—that the love will never change. But that’s just not true, Carter. Friends. Lovers. Nothing is ever written in stone. Lines can blur. You may screw up. Everyone does. When it’s real though, your heart allows for rewrites.”
Friend Is a Four Letter Word Page 16
