by Megan Green
But she seems to believe it. Her eyes look heavy as she stares up at me, the corners of her lips still upturned ever so slightly as she tries to blink away sleep.
“How come we stopped doing this, Car?” she asks, her voice thick and her words slightly slurred from her semi-conscious state.
I raise my eyebrows. “Pretty sure your boyfriend would’ve had a problem with you sleeping at my house every night.”
She sighs, letting her head fall to the side as her eyes finally drift closed. “You’re probably right. Stupid Miles. He messed everything up, didn’t he?”
She lets out a long exhale on the last word, and I don’t even have to ask to know that she’s fallen asleep. A small sort of victory floods through me, knowing that even thoughts of Miles weren’t enough to keep sleep at bay with her here, in my arms.
Or my lap. Whatever.
It means the world to me that she feels safe here. That, despite the shitty thing that asshole put her through, she seems to be healing, seems to be moving forward. And I can’t help but feel like maybe I’m contributing to that.
Taking a chance, I lift my hand, brushing a stray lock of hair that’s fallen over her eye back from her face. My fingers linger for a moment, my thumb caressing the skin above her eyebrow. Her lips curl up in a half-smile, her breath coming out in a content sigh. She rolls over to her other side, her face pressing against my stomach and her arms wrapping around my waist as she cuddles into me.
She mumbles something I can’t quite make out, but it almost sounds like…“Carter.”
Suddenly, the idea of sleeping while sitting straight up on this couch sounds like the most amazing thing in the world. I gently lift my feet onto the coffee table, getting as comfortable as possible without jostling her. Once I’m settled, I run my hand over her hair before resting it on her shoulder.
She looks so peaceful. So happy.
And so goddamn beautiful.
She’s happy here, in Seattle. With me.
And she just murmured my name in her sleep. Not Miles’s. Not anybody else’s.
Mine.
That has to count for something, doesn’t it?
For the first time in years, I let myself think the thoughts I banished so long ago.
Could anything ever happen between Avery and me?
What would it be like to fall asleep with her in my arms every night?
Would we ever work?
And, as I watch her face, so lovely as she sleeps, I allow myself to hope.
Chapter 10
Avery
My neck is stiff when I wake, my shoulders aching as I try to turn my head and take in my surroundings.
Where am I?
When I see the expensive oak coffee table in the center of the room, I remember. I’m still not quite used to waking up here, in Carter’s apartment, going through a similar process every morning since I arrived.
After I recognize the coffee table though, I let out a relieved sigh, glad to know I’m somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from…him.
But why the hell am I on the couch?
I push up off said couch, my hands coming in contact with something hard yet giving when I move. A loud groan sounds as I realize the thing I just pushed off of was…Carter’s stomach.
I roll over, quickly falling to the floor because…couch. There’s not exactly a lot of room for movement.
“Oh my God,” I say. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you beneath me.”
I pop up off the floor, taking in the scene before me for the first time.
Carter is doubled over on the couch, his arms around his midsection, as he groans out his pain from my assault. The couch is rumpled, a blanket half on, half off the cushions. The coffee table has very clearly been rearranged during the night, the plates from our dessert in disarray, the spoons having clattered to the floor. It looks like someone came through and kicked…
“Did you sleep sitting up all night?” I ask, deciding that’s the only explanation for what I’m seeing.
Carter’s feet on the coffee table would have definitely left that trail of destruction in their wake.
Carter slowly sits up, stretching his back when he’s upright, as if trying to work out his own kinks. He nods, cringing slightly at the movement and raising a hand to knead the muscles in his shoulder.
“Practice is gonna be a bitch today,” he says absently.
I suddenly feel guilty for falling asleep on him, knowing that the only reason he stayed there was because I’d trapped him. Now, he’s going to be sore all day, and it’s my fault.
“I’m so sorry, Carter. You should’ve woken me up, so you could go to bed. It can’t be good to sleep like that all night.”
He shrugs, instantly regretting the movement as pain flashes over his face. “It’s no big deal. A hot shower will loosen me up. Besides, you were dead to the world. I don’t think a freight train barreling through my living room would’ve woken you. Probably would’ve been quieter, too.”
I kick at his foot. “Hey! I do not snore. I didn’t when we were kids, and I definitely don’t now.”
He grins at me. “You keep telling yourself that. Those of us who are forced to sleep next to you know otherwise.”
I know for a fact that I don’t snore. I maybe might’ve recorded myself a few nights just to be sure, not wanting to be the person in the relationship responsible for the other’s lack of sleep. I was fully prepared to visit an ENT if evidence proved otherwise. But, lucky for me, Carter is full of shit. He just enjoys riling me up.
He gets up off the couch with a moan, bending from side to side at the waist to loosen his back. He takes a few steps toward his bedroom—probably to take that shower—before he turns and gives me a questioning look.
“The guys are planning a little barbecue after practice today. How’d you like to go with me?”
“The guys? Who are the guys?” I’ve been here almost a week now, and this is the first time Carter has suggested getting together with any of his local friends. I didn’t even know he had any.
“Just a few guys from the team. Ian Taggart and Brandon Jeffers. A few others might come, too, but it’ll be pretty low-key.”
My mouth falls open. “You want me to go to a barbecue with a bunch of professional baseball players?” I ask, my shock evident in every word.
He nods. “Yeah. Why?”
“Well…I…it’s just…Carter, I can’t hang out with famous people. What would I even say?”
He shakes his head, but an amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Say, Hi, I’m Avery. I’ve heard you guys have the pleasure of playing with my incredibly talented friend Carter here. How lucky are you?”
I roll my eyes, taking the few steps over to him and playfully swatting him. “Carter! I’m serious. I don’t want to act like a fool in front of a bunch of superstars.”
He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Superstars, eh? Don’t let them hear you say that. And trust me, Smalls; these guys are cool. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides, their girlfriends will be there, too. So, you’ll have plenty of chicks to keep you occupied.”
I groan. “Oh, great. So, not only do I have to talk to sports legends, but I also have to put up with their perfectly coiffed and made-up arm candy?”
He smirks. “Lexi and Liv are way too damn pretty for the bastards they call boyfriends; I’ll give you that. But they’re not like that, Avery. Not at all. You’ll like them.”
“Fiiiine,” I whine. “I’ll go if you want me to. But I swear to God, Carter, if a single one of them tries to talk to me about bleaching my asshole or waxing my vagina, I’m going to scream.”
Carter’s eyes widen for a moment before he bursts out in laughter. And, even I have to admit, that was a little out there, even for me.
“You have my word that neither Lexi or Liv will bring up anything to do with their assholes. Brandon, on the other hand…”
“Ugh,” I groan for about the twelfth time in the last five mi
nutes.
This is going to suck.
Wrong.
I was dead. Freaking. Wrong.
My head falls back as I laugh, my napkin coming up to cover my mouth and nose to try to prevent any food or drink from escaping.
“I shit you not,” Ian Taggart says, his eyes softening as he looks to his fiancée, Lexi. “One of the very first times I saw her, she was skipping down a dirt road, singing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ at the top of her lungs. When she tipped herself over and poured herself out, I knew I was a goner. I knew right then and there that I was going to marry that girl.”
Lexi swats him on the arm. “You did not. And I wasn’t singing at the top of my lungs. Just sort of loudly. It was cold! I needed to do something to warm up.”
Ian shakes his head. “Most people stay inside when it’s that cold. Not try to walk twenty miles to the next town over to buy a can of paint.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’m not most people. Who knows what would’ve become of us had you not picked me up on the side of the road that day?”
I dab at my eyes, wiping away the tears of laughter as I watch them. I was so nervous to come here today, convinced I was going to be so out of my league that I wouldn’t even be in the same hemisphere. When we arrived at Brandon and Liv’s apartment complex and Carter hit the button in the elevator for the rooftop, it only cemented my fears.
I was not someone who attended parties on rooftops. An old, run-down barn was more my speed, complete with the smell of horse shit.
But I should’ve known better. Carter and I were the same. And, if he liked these people, I should’ve known I would, too.
And to say I like them would be an understatement. From the moment I walked in, Carter’s friends have done nothing but make me feel welcome. I might have only just met them, but it feels like I’ve been laughing and joking with them for years.
And the way Ian looks at Lexi as he teases her…
It makes me even happier I didn’t end up marrying Miles.
I deserve someone who looks at me the way Ian looks at Lexi.
And I deserve someone who makes me laugh the way Brandon does Liv.
The more time I spend away from Stetson, the longer I’m in the presence of people who truly love each other, the more I realize I was more in love with the idea of love than I was with Miles.
I wanted so desperately to be someone’s wife, to have what my parents did, that I was willing to settle for someone who didn’t make me burn. Someone who didn’t make my heart stop with just the hint of a smile. Someone who didn’t ache for me even more than I ached for them.
I’m still pissed as hell at Miles for doing what he did. But looking around at these people, watching as Brandon loops an arm around Carter’s neck, pulling him down and rubbing his knuckles against his hair like an older brother tormenting his sibling, I have to admit, I’m no longer hurt.
Miles saved me a lifetime of regret by showing me his true colors before we were married. And, instead of hurt, all I feel is…
Relief.
And, as if he can sense the peace that’s suddenly enveloped me, Carter chooses that moment to catch my eye.
I softly smile at him, mouthing the words, Thank you, so small that I know only he can see them.
He winks, giving me a lopsided grin before turning his attention back to the torture Brandon is raining down upon him.
After a few minutes, the three guys excuse themselves, each of them grabbing another beer from the cooler to the side of the table before heading over to a game set up in the corner.
Liv rolls her eyes. “I will forever regret the day I suggested we buy that game for these parties. Who’d have thought three professional baseball players would become so obsessed with a stupid game like Cornhole?”
I perk up, craning my neck to see the fancy-looking game the men are all now standing around. It’s shinier and sure as hell a lot nicer than what we had back on the farm, but the basics are definitely the same.
“No way,” I say with a grin. “I had no idea you guys played Cornhole in Seattle.”
Lexi shrugs. “From what Ian says, Cornhole is all the rage nowadays. There are even nationwide competitions for it.”
“No shit,” I breathe out, sinking back in my seat. “Well, there just might be a sport I can win at now.”
“You play?” Liv asks, her brow rising as she takes in my blue wrap dress.
It’s the nicest thing I brought with me from Stetson, and I was certain I’d be underdressed when I put it on. Turns out, I’m the only one here not in jeans and a T-shirt. I look down at the dress before raising my gaze back to the girls and shrugging.
“This isn’t exactly my normal attire. I’m much more at home in cutoffs and cowboy boots.”
“Ooh,” Lexi squeals. “Carter went and got himself a farm girl.”
I laugh, shaking my head and bringing my hands up, waving them in front of me. “No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong. Carter is my oldest friend. We grew up together. I’m just here as a friend.”
Now, it’s Lexi’s turn to quirk a brow at me. “Mmhmm. Ian and I were just friends, too. I know how that goes.”
“No, really,” I interject. “Carter has been my best friend since forever. There’s no way the two of us could ever date. It would just be…weird.”
Both girls turn and look at Carter, giving him an assessing once-over before turning their attention back to me.
“Right,” Liv says, giving me a knowing look. “Because dating a man who looks like that would just be so weird.”
I laugh, switching my focus over to Carter and trying to look at him from an outsider’s perspective. His tight jeans hug his ass in all the right places, emphasizing that perfect orb in the best way possible. The T-shirt he’s wearing is tucked casually into the front of his pants, causing it to stretch ever so slightly across his abs. The belt buckle at his waist only further adds to his appeal, making him look like the sexiest cowboy this side of the Mississippi.
The outfit works for him. It works really, really well.
Add in the closely trimmed dark hair and deep brown eyes that could drop panties with a single look and…
What in the hell?
Where did that thought come from?
I can feel my face heating as both girls smile and give each other knowing looks. I groan, rolling my neck back on my shoulders and looking up at the sky.
“Ugh, fine. Carter is hot, okay? I’m not blind. But it could still never happen. It would be like dating my brother.”
“Oh, honey,” Lexi says, reaching out and placing her hand over mine. “If your brother looks at you like that, I’d say you have bigger problems on your hands.”
My jaw falls open. “I…he…what?”
Lexi and Liv exchange another glance, Liv nodding slightly before they both turn their attention back to me.
“Surely, you see it, don’t you, Avery?” Lexi says, her voice soft and her tone steady as she levels her eyes on mine.
“See what?”
“Carter is in love with you,” Liv says matter-of-factly.
The idea is so absurd; I can’t hold back the laughter as it bubbles up in my chest. “You two are insane.”
Lexi shakes her head. “No, Liv is right. Carter loves you. It’s clear in the way he watches you. He’s so in tune with your every move; he almost anticipates it before you make it. He loves you,” she repeats, like saying the words is the most natural thing in the world.
“Well, of course he loves me,” I refute. “We’re best friends. You don’t spend years with a person without growing to love them in some way.”
Liv is shaking her head at me now. “Not the same thing. Not at all. Carter loves you as a friend, yes. But it goes a hell of a lot deeper than that. I guarantee it. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s been in love with you for a long, long time.”
“I…you…we…” I stammer again, unable to give voice to any of the million thoughts running through my head.
Carter can’t be in love with me.
Can he?
I think back over the last several years. The way he was so vehemently against the idea of me even dating Miles. The sad look on his face the night both of them were drafted, and Miles proposed. The complete silence on the other end of the line the day I called to tell him our wedding date.
And the look of complete and utter joy that spread across his face when I threw myself at him the day of my shower.
The last few days have been filled with laughter and good times. He’s gone above and beyond, trying to make me feel at home in a strange city when he knows I’ve been hurting. I’m sure he’s been tired after practicing so many hours and playing so many games. But he’s never once denied me a single request I’ve had since I walked through his front door. He’s shown me around Seattle, taken me to all the places I wanted to go, made me my favorite dessert, and watched my favorite movie when I’m sure all he wanted to do was fall asleep.
Has Carter done all those things simply because he is my best friend?
Or is there more to it?
Are Carter’s actions those of a loving friend?
Or are they the actions of a man trying to console the woman he loves?
No, I tell myself, it can’t be. Carter would’ve told me if he’d been in love with me all these years.
But would he have? another voice asks inside my head. You were always so preoccupied with the man you’d eventually fall in love with. Maybe you missed the one who was standing right in front of you.
I never made any secret about the fact that I wanted the fairy tale. I wanted the white knight to show up and whisk me away, the two of us falling so deeply in love and living happily ever after and all that other Cinderella bullshit.
Has Carter felt like he could never measure up? Did I set my expectations so high that Carter decided loving me from afar was better than losing me forever?
No, there’s no way. This is Carter we’re talking about. You would’ve seen something like that. You know him better than anyone.
But, now that the seed has been planted, I can’t help but watch it grow.
