Last week, Olivia mentioned signing up for a self-defense class offered through the university, which I’d immediately poo-pooed as a waste of time. Considering what just happened, I’m going to highly consider registering for that class.
“Holy crap! You almost gave me a heart attack,” I accuse.
I wouldn’t put it past Carter to try scaring me to death. Fine, that’s not altogether true. Before the whole laxative incident happened, I wouldn’t have put it past him.
Now?
I have no idea where we stand with one another.
“Sorry.” He shifts on the chair. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to come home yet.”
Irritated for allowing him to startle me, I grumble, “You could have said something when I walked in the door like a normal human being.”
He’s like a creeper lurking in the shadows. I’m barely able to make out his features.
Since he hasn’t budged from the chair, I gravitate to the living room and flick on the light switch. “What are you doing in the dark, anyway?”
He shields his eyes with a hand.
“Carter?” I snap. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
His hand slowly falls away from his face, and I gasp at the bruise around his left eye.
“What happened to you?” I move toward him to inspect the damage.
Succinct as always, he states the obvious. “Got punched.”
“Yeah,” I mutter in annoyance. “I can see that.”
Without thinking, I step closer, placing my hands on either side of his face, and tilting his head upward so that I can better survey the damage. “You’re going to have one heck of a shiner in the morning,” I murmur.
“Yup.”
I look at him straight-on. “What happened?”
His muscles tense as he shrugs. “Got into a fight.”
I shake my head, exasperated that everything has to be so difficult with him when all I’m after is a straight answer. “Who did you get into it with this time?”
Probably some girl’s jealous boyfriend. That thought settles in my gut like a heavy stone.
“No one you know.”
I frown. “You’re always getting into fights,” I scold. “Maybe there’s some truth to what people say about football breeding violence.”
He holds my gaze steadily and a shiver skitters down my spine. It’s unnerving to have his eyes pinned on mine. I have no idea what he’s thinking. All at once, I become aware of the intimate way I’m cradling his bristly cheeks in the palms of my hands. The scent of his aftershave tickles my nostrils.
I always thought his eyes were a grayish-blue, but that’s not the case at all. Silvery flecks dance within the flinty irises. Normally, I go to great lengths to keep my distance from Carter. When I don’t, little sparks of attraction flare to life between us.
Just like they are right now.
Carter clears his throat, breaking the strange spell woven around me. I drop my hands from his face as if I’ve been scalded and quickly step away. But it’s not enough. I still feel the heat of his body.
Needing more space, I rack my brain for an excuse and blurt, “I’ll get some ice and ibuprofen for the swelling.” I retreat to the safety of the kitchen.
I need a moment to collect my thoughts and calm the nerves prickling along the surface of my skin. The attraction I feel for Carter defies logic. I wish it would just go away.
Relieved to have something to occupy my hands, I fill a sandwich baggie with ice cubes and wrap it in a thin dishcloth. Then I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and head into the bathroom for a couple of pain-killers that should help with the inflammation.
Not wanting our fingers to come into contact, I gingerly hand over the ibuprofen and water. He washes down the pills in one thirsty swig. I give him the bag of ice, which he gently presses against his left eye. A hissing sound escapes from his lips as he settles back in the chair. His good eye drifts shut.
With both of his eyes closed, I’m free to look my fill. My gaze roves over his muscular body sprawled out on the recliner. The confused emotions I experienced five minutes ago invade my belly, making it tremble with something that feels suspiciously like desire. Part of me wants to reach out and stroke my fingers over his face again. I ball my hands into fists. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid and embarrass myself.
Shattering the silence, I blurt, “Is there anything else you need?”
“No,” he mumbles. “Thanks for the ice and pills.”
“It wasn’t a problem.”
Again, I wonder how he ended up with the black eye. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him with a bruise on his face. I frown, realizing I’ve never actually seen Carter lose his temper.
But he must, right?
What other explanation is there?
“You never said how this happened.” I shift from one foot to the other as I bite my lip, wishing I hadn’t opened my big mouth.
He doesn’t bother to meet my gaze. “Nope, I didn’t.”
The finality of his words rubs me the wrong way. As irritation floods through my system, desire dissipates. Not only is there a physical distance between us, but an emotional one as well. And that’s exactly the way it needs to stay.
I fold my arms across my chest and glare. “So, you’re not going to tell me?” I pause for a beat. “What did you do? Hit on someone’s girlfriend?”
He lifts his head and opens his uncovered eye, focusing intently on me. “Nailed it. That’s exactly what happened.”
There’s a deadened look in his gray gaze.
One that sends shivers down my spine.
Needing to keep him at arm’s length, I sigh and head back to my bedroom.
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy
It’s been a tradition since first semester of freshman year that Aunt Marnie hosts family dinners twice a month. There are times when we’re able to get together more than that. And there are others when we’re lucky to get together once a month. Football season is always a challenge because Noah’s schedule is packed tight with practices, film review, study sessions, and games. We never go longer than that without carving out some time.
And I love that.
Love that I’m a part of their close-knit family.
Being that Carter has been Noah’s roommate for just as long, he’s been invited from the beginning. My aunt and uncle took an instant liking to Carter, bringing him into the fold and treating him like family.
It used to aggravate the hell out of me. Now, I’m not sure how I feel. Our relationship has changed over the last two weeks. We’re no longer at each other’s throats.
Just as Noah, Carter, and I walk through the front door of the house, my cell vibrates. I pull it from my purse only to see that it’s a text from my aunt. Instead of opening the message, I pocket the phone. Now that I’m here, I can speak with her in person.
The laughing, chattering voice doesn’t penetrate my mental fog until I’ve entered the kitchen and it’s too late. My gaze lands on her and I stumble to a halt, trying to make sense of the woman sitting in Aunt Marnie’s house.
What the—
“Baby girl!” Mom shrieks as if I’m hard of hearing and we haven’t seen one another in years. She flies from her chair, rushing forward and swallowing me up in her arms. I nearly suffocate on the heavy cloud of Chanel perfume she’s cloaked in. Subtlety has never been my mother’s strong suit.
Still in a state of shock, I stare at my aunt over Mom’s shoulder in bewilderment. I’m desperate for her to tell me that this is a bad dream. The sympathetic expression painted across her face says that it’s not. Only now do I realize that the text she’d recently fired off was a warning to prepare myself.
With her hands on my shoulders, Mom leans back so she can look me over. A delighted grin stretches across her Botox injected face. “Are you surprised?”
Surprised?
Surprised is an understatement.
“Shocked.�
�� Like I’ve just been punched in the face for no reason. I love my mother, I really do, but she’s a lot to deal with. To say that she’s high maintenance is putting it mildly. I need time to mentally prepare whenever I’m going to be around her for any length of time. If I don’t, our visits end up going sideways and that’s not fun for either of us.
She claps her hands together like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh good! You know how much I enjoy a good surprise.”
“Mission accomplished,” I say wryly, still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that she’s standing in Aunt Marnie’s kitchen. She belongs in Europe. Not here. It’s like stumbling upon an exotic animal on a city street. Unexpected and not entirely welcome.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, she loops her arm through mine and drags me to the table to sit down. Her hands immediately go to my face as she takes a long hard look at me. Her expression transforms into one of seriousness.
“Oh, my poor baby,” she coos dramatically.
I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but don’t. I know what’s coming next. Mom tends to keep to the script, which makes it easier for all of us to play our parts.
She turns my face from one side to the other, studying my complexion with a critical eye. “You look tired, Daisy. Are you getting enough rest?”
I’ve only been in her presence for a handful of minutes and already she’s starting in on me.
My brows flatten. “Yes, Mom,” I grumble, embarrassed to have her attention focused on me in front of everyone. “I’m fine.”
“How long has it been since I last saw you?” Even though she tosses out the question, she doesn’t give me time to respond. “A month and a half?”
“Yup.” I boarded a plane bound for the States a little more than six weeks ago.
“Your face looks puffy.” Her eyes narrow. “Tell me about your salt intake.”
“Mom,” I groan. In mom speak, puffy means that I’ve gained weight. Too bad Ashley isn’t here, these two would hit it off like gangbusters.
“Thank goodness I arrived just in time for an intervention. We need to plan a spa day ASAP. A seaweed wrap is precisely what’s needed in a situation like this.” She flicks her gaze toward her sister. “You’re a nurse, Marnie. Wouldn’t you agree with that clinical diagnosis?”
My aunt shakes her head. “I don’t really think—”
Mom waves her off. “Of course, you do. One must take care of their body. A nice seaweed detox will leave you feeling refreshed and hydrated. I can’t go more than a week without having one.” She leans closer and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Sometimes, when the stress really gets to me, I sneak in a second wrap.”
I stare silently for a moment before shaking my head. “Mom, I’m taking five classes this semester, I don’t have time for that.” And even if I did, that’s not how I would choose to spend my free time. The thought of being covered in seaweed grosses me out. Plus, I don’t like the smell. It makes me want to gag.
“Please,” she snorts as if I’ve said something ridiculous. “There is always time for pampering. It’s important to take care of oneself, Daisy. If I’ve taught you anything, it’s that.”
She’s right about that. It’s the golden rule she lives by.
Mom glances at her sister with a considering look. “You should join us, Marnie. You’re looking a little haggard around the eyes. I’m sure it’s from working such long hours at the hospital. Being around all those,” she falters. “Unwell patients can’t be good for you.”
Aunt Marnie presses her lips together and shakes her head. Like me, she’s used to this behavior.
I see the exact moment Mom becomes aware of Carter. Her body straightens, and her features sharpen. She looks like a bird dog who has just spotted fresh quarry. Frankly, I’m surprised it took so long.
Even though Noah and Carter have been friends for years, he’s lucky to have never crossed paths with Lydia Bellamy. Apparently, that’s about to change. I’m more than aware that Mom is about to embarrass the hell out of me, but I’m relieved to have her attention diverted somewhere else so I can mentally regroup.
And to think I was looking forward to coming here tonight and spending time with Aunt Marnie and Uncle Craig. Obviously, that plan has been shot to smithereens. Enjoyable will be the last thing this evening turns out to be.
“Well, hello there, tall, dark, and handsome,” Mom purrs. I cringe, slumping further on my chair. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.” Rather delicately, she holds out a manicured hand for Carter to shake.
Or kiss.
Or whatever.
I almost expect her to lower her voice and whisper huskily enchanté.
Noah jumps in to make introductions as Carter steps forward. Lydia’s gaze rakes over his muscular body with an embarrassing amount of interest. I’m tempted to point out that Carter is her nephew’s age. Not to mention my age, but it’s doubtful that would make a difference.
Instead I ask, “Did Frederique come with you?”
At the sound of her husband’s name, Mom tears her gaze reluctantly from the man candy in front of her. “Oh, no. I’m here alone. Freddy is much too busy to get away for a spur of the moment trip. I’m going to meet him in Dubai next week.”
“Does that mean you’ll be staying in town until then?” Aunt Marnie asks, her voice lacking enthusiasm.
“Yes!” Mom claps her hands together again with excitement. “Won’t that be fun?”
“It would have been,” her sister says carefully. “Unfortunately, I have to work.” My aunt’s gaze encompasses me. “And Daisy is busy with classes.” More gently she adds, “Perhaps if you’d given me some notice, I could have taken some vacation time.”
Mom’s perfectly plucked brows slide together in confusion. “But that would have ruined the surprise.”
We stare in silence.
Aunt Marnie shrugs as if to say well, I tried. And I get it. Lydia’s world revolves around, well, Lydia. Everyone else is a distant planet in her solar system. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. Over the years, I’ve learned to accept Mom for who she is. If I didn’t, our interactions would only leave me feeling angry and frustrated.
We’re distracted from further conversation when Uncle Craig walks through the back door with his briefcase in hand. The way he stumbles to a halt when he sees my mother has me biting my lower lip to hide my amusement.
Mom gives him her most winning smile. “Surprise!”
He stares at her for a long moment before his gaze swings to his wife. My uncle has a pretty good poker face, but I know he doesn’t enjoy Mom’s visits. She can be a disruptive, pain in the ass (per Uncle Craig during her last visit). Aunt Marnie’s shoulders shake with unconcealed mirth as she turns back to the stove to check dinner.
Sixty minutes later and I’m planning my escape. Mom has the tendency to make me feel claustrophobic. While everyone is busy talking after dinner, I quietly excuse myself and sneak out the back door. The sun has just dipped below the horizon as I settle onto a lounger near the pool and stretch my legs out in front of me. I close my eyes and suck in a breath before slowly exhaling. It takes a conscious effort to release the tension from my tightened muscles.
Thank God Mom booked a suite at a nearby hotel and isn’t staying at the house. I think Uncle Craig would probably pack his bags and vacate the premises if that were the case. The last time Lydia stayed with them, she had Uncle Craig running all over the place. By the fourth day, he was ready to wring her neck.
Just as I start to relax on the plush cushion, I catch the sound of the French door opening and closing. I keep my eyes squeezed shut, wanting to block out reality for a moment longer. I suspect Aunt Marnie has noticed my absence and has come to check on me. And probably sneak a smoke. She quit years ago, but Lydia tends to drive her bat shit crazy. She keeps a secret stash hidden in the garage for emergencies. A visit from Lydia is most definitely classified as an emergency.
Whe
n Aunt Marnie drops onto the lounger next to mine, I turn my head and open my eyes only to find that it isn’t my aunt at all.
It’s Carter.
The surprise of finding him a few feet from where I’m sprawled stuns me into silence. We’re not ones to seek each other out. Ever. What he’s doing is unprecedented.
He sits facing me. His knees are spread, and his elbows rest casually on them. Unsure what to say, I remain silent and wait for him to open the dialogue. After everything that’s transpired between us these last few weeks, I feel at a loss as to how to act around him.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels ill at ease, because Carter clears his throat and shifts on the lounger. “Your mom is wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”
The breath slowly escapes from my lungs at the notion of heading inside again. I thought it would take her longer to notice my absence. I love being with my aunt and uncle. Not once have I ever considered escaping from their presence. Guilt slides through me that I feel that way about my own mother. I should be thrilled that she carved out time to visit me. Instead, I feel resentful that she’s impinging on my time which only prompts more guilt. I’m not ready to head inside just yet, but there doesn’t seem to be a choice in the matter.
As I sit up, he says, “Don’t worry, I told her that you were in the shitter. Salmonella poisoning from bad brownies. That should buy you some time.”
My mouth falls open.
Is Carter really cracking a joke about the brownie incident that is never to be mentioned in Noah’s presence? Because he certainly didn’t think it was amusing at the time.
I wince thinking about the laxative-brownie aftermath.
Poor Noah…
The chocolaty dessert really did a number on him. Who knew he had such a sensitive system? He wasn’t right for days after that. Thankfully, he’s forgiven me. It took about fifty apologies and lots of sad, puppy dog looks for him to speak with me again.
Love to Hate You Page 9
