by Mariano, Sam
Cartwright barks with laughter. “Oh shit, that’s cold, man.”
Carter wraps an arm around me, pulling me close for a hug and looking down at me. “You okay?”
I can’t entirely contain my surprise. Blinking a couple times, I nod uncertainly.
Then, right here in front of everyone, he bends his head and kisses me. It’s no long, lingering kiss like the ones he gave me in the bedroom, but when he pulls back, settles his arm around my shoulders, and looks back at his friends, no one says another unkind word. No more snide comments, no more teasing. They all fall silent, then slowly return to their own conversations.
It feels like I have heartburn, though. I can’t believe everyone in this house now knows I did something so intimate with Carter. They don’t just speculate or assume, they know. I’m afraid to look at Grace. This is exactly what I tried to warn her about—these parties are not for us. These guys are not for us. In under two weeks, I went from “I’ve never even French kissed” to Carter Mahoney’s personal sex toy. Twice now, I’ve had to bargain with him for basic human decency. Now he’s kissing me in public, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I’m not his now. I don’t belong to him just because I turned a potentially traumatic experience into something I could live with.
God, I need to get out of here. I need to leave this demented place and never come back.
Finally forcing my gaze to Grace, I ask, “Are you okay?”
She doesn’t look as horrified as I expected her to look. The alcohol is probably helping all this insanity go down a little more easily. Dutifully picking up two empty water bottles, she tells me, “I am well hydrated.”
Jake still gets a passive aggressive jab in, though. “Apparently Zoey is, too.”
I glare at him, then look at Grace. “We need to go.”
She nods, head down so she doesn’t have to meet my gaze. “Yeah, we should. My mom’s gonna kill me.”
Carter follows me to the door, grabs me around the waist, and kisses me one more time. I don’t know what to do or say, so I just offer a little smile, then haul ass out the door with Grace.
Chapter 15
“Breakfast is ready!”
I squint at the bright light coming in through Grace’s bedroom window. After I brought her home, I sent my mom a text to let her know I would be staying the night at Grace’s. I managed to get her in the house without her parents (who were already in bed, not realizing she had left the house so late) finding out she was drunk, so I didn’t want to leave her alone, just in case her body had a belated reaction to the alcohol or all the sugary punch.
I look over at her now. She’s still sleeping, so I shake her awake. Even though I know she’s okay, I still feel relieved when her eyes open and she frowns up at me. “Leave me alone.”
I figure the alcohol probably has her feeling crappy, so I don’t take offense. “Time to get up, party girl.”
She groans. “Don’t ever say party again.”
Since I have no idea how much she had to drink, I ask, “Are you hung over?”
“No, I’m just livin’ in the literal Hell of last night’s memories.” Opening her eyes and turning her gaze back to me, she says, “I am so sorry you had to come to that party because of me. I feel like I led you right into temptation, and you tried so hard to warn me.”
It’s not good for Grace to be stressed out, so I shake my head. “Everything is fine.”
“You tried to tell me Carter was scheming to get you there, and then you ended up doing… things with him.”
I don’t even want her thinking about what Carter and I did. “It’s over. It’s done. It doesn’t matter now. Don’t worry about it, Grace. Honest. I mean, never do it again, but what’s done is done.”
“Are you and Carter, like… together now?”
“No.” I push back the blankets, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing my phone off the end table. My battery is at 13% and I have to work in two hours. Fantastic.
“Did you really… do what you said last night?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it, Grace,” I tell her, clearing the notifications on my phone and opening the text my mom sent a half hour ago.
“Did you have sex with him?”
My shoulders tense, and I quickly text my mom back as I tell Grace, “No. I did not have sex with him.”
“You fell asleep upstairs,” she says in a leading way, like why would I fall asleep if I only went down on him? Valid question, I suppose.
Instead of answering her, I tell her, “Your mom said breakfast is ready, so we should probably go eat.”
Before I make it to the door, she blurts, “I kissed Jake Parsons.”
My eyes widen and I pivot to look at her. “You did what?”
Grace is grimacing, and now she hides her face in her hands. “I wasn’t in my right mind. It was when you were upstairs with Carter, I just… I don’t know what happened, he was getting me water and asking if I felt okay, and he has such pretty eyes…”
Still gaping, I say, “Pretty eyes?”
“I know, I know,” she says, hiding her face again. “I’m a harlot. I’m so sorry, Zoey. After the crap he pulled with you, that dumb nickname and everything… I am the worst friend in the world.”
I go back to the bed, taking a seat on the edge again. “When you say kissed…?”
She looks up with dread. “Like, really kissed. We made out. Body to body contact, tangled limbs, the whole nine yards.”
“Oh, my God, Grace.”
“I know! I’m sorry. It was so stupid.”
I cradle my head in my hands, the various dangers of last night becoming harder and harder to ignore. We may have both emerged a little more tarnished than when we entered, but it could have been so much worse.
I didn’t tell Grace that Jake cornered me in that classroom, she doesn’t know how I got on Carter’s radar, and I don’t know how I can tell her now. After she heard last night that I did those things with him, after she saw him kiss me and shield me from the taunts of his friends. I don’t know how to explain any of that. I don’t know how to explain Carter. Whatever it is I’ve been doing with him, though, at least I’ve known what he’s capable of. Grace doesn’t have all the information about Jake.
Maybe I can implicate him without implicating Carter. I don’t want to, but if Grace is attracted to him, she deserves to know the truth.
God, this is going to be so awkward.
“Look, Grace… I really didn’t want to tell you this, but Jake didn’t leave it at groping me the time you know about. After his football coach suspended him to punish him for his behavior, Jake got it in his mind that he needed to punish me back. He wanted to intimidate me into saying I lied so he’d be able to play, and… he and a couple of other guys from the team chased me into a classroom, cornered me, and—I won’t go into details or anything, but it wasn’t good. Jake isn’t a good guy, Grace. He’s not a safe guy.”
Grace’s brown eyes are wide with horror. “Oh, my gosh, Zoey. Did they…hurt you? I mean, did they…?”
I shake my head, looking down. “They stopped before it got that far, but just barely.”
She covers her mouth, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Zoey. I didn’t know. I would have never…. Are you okay?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s over. I don’t want to think about it. The only reason I’m telling you is because, if you like Jake…”
Grace shakes her head, sniffling. “No, I don’t. I don’t. It was just a stupid, drunken thing. Alcohol really is evil, isn’t it? Oh, my gosh, I just don’t even know what to say, Zoey.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Honestly, I don’t want you to get upset over it. I truly am fine. Thinkin’ about it makes me feel icky, so I would feel better if we didn’t. Let’s move on. I just needed to tell you so you knew what Jake was capable of.”
“Who were the other guys?”
That gives me pause. Maybe too obvious a pause, becaus
e there’s no way I wouldn’t know them all by name. Cartwright is an ass, but I’m not going to lie and say he did something he didn’t.
“Shayne Sutton,” I offer. “He was mostly just guarding the door. It doesn’t even matter, the point was just—I wanted to warn you.”
Her gaze drops to the comforter, then she swallows and meets my gaze again. “Was it Carter?”
Ignoring her question, I stand. “Let’s go have breakfast.”
Instead of letting it go, she presses. “Were you really sleeping last night, or were you… something else? Did he hurt you?”
“Grace, I’m fine,” I say, a little more shortly than I intend. Attempting to smooth it over, I add in a more solicitous tone, “Now, let’s go have breakfast or I need to go home. I work soon, and my phone is almost dead.”
* * *
I’m in the middle of updating the “new release” display when my phone vibrates. I finish arranging the shelf, steal a glance at my manager to see if he’s paying attention, then check my phone.
It’s a direct message from Carter. It reads, “Seems like I should have your phone number, doesn’t it?”
I type back, “I’m surprised you don’t already, actually. You don’t have devious alternate means of getting it? I’m disappointed.”
“You always have to make me work extra hard for you, don’t you, princess?”
I smile faintly. “It’ll be good for you for to work for something in your life, QB.”
“Hey, I earned that position,” he tells me.
“Uh huh. Didn’t your parents buy the whole team new jerseys?”
“My mom thought the old ones were ugly. That had nothing to do with me making the team.”
“Mm hmm,” I send back.
“If you’d ever bring your ass to one of my games, you’d see my skills.”
“You invited me to ONE game,” I point out. “It’s a little premature to be throwing around ‘ever’ like this is a habit of mine.”
“Last night I made a 31-yard touchdown pass to win the game. My parents didn’t pay for that, now, did they?” he asks.
“Congratulations on throwing a ball kinda far.”
“It’s not my best pass,” he assures me.
“I could not care less.”
A few seconds later, he sends back, “Brutal. What do I have to do impress you, Ellis?”
“Get my phone number,” I tease.
“Fine. I will. And when I text you, I’ll tell you when I’m picking you up.”
“Excuse me?” I send back, cocking an eyebrow at the screen.
“It’s Saturday. I don’t have practice. I thought we could catch an early showing of that movie.”
“I can’t, I’m at work until four,” I reply without thought.
“Can’t call off?”
I laugh a little, shaking my head at how out of touch he is. “No, I can’t call off. I’m already here. That’s not how jobs work.”
“That’s shitty. I can’t go tonight. My parents are gonna be in Dallas so I have to watch Chloe.”
“The jokes would probably go over her head,” I joke.
“Maybe slightly inappropriate.”
Even though I didn’t agree to go out with him, have not thought any more about this at all, and might not even want to go out with him, since he can’t go anyway, I decide to keep the joke going. “Unless you wanted to go see the new Disney movie instead. I bet she’d like that one.”
He sends back, “Are you serious?”
I grimace, not sure how he means that. The lack of tone leaves me thinking that joke didn’t land as I reread it. If he really thinks I’m offering to go see a Disney movie with him and his kid sister, I would feel like sort of an asshole saying no. I don’t hate being around him, I just can’t trust him not to maul me. With Chloe there, that wouldn’t be an issue. Besides, I have a little brother; it’s not like I’m a stranger to Disney movies.
I don’t know if his “are you serious?” was one of disbelief or actual interest. I decide to err on the side of actual interest, since at least if I’m wrong, I will look like the idiot and not him. I can handle it.
“Sure, why not? I think I might actually prefer to have a tiny buffer there. She’s a sassy taskmaster; she’ll keep you in line if you try to get all crazy.”
“Until I bribe her with ice cream,” he replies. “Then you’re on your own.”
“I’m glad to see her sense of girl power can only be bought out by frozen dairy,” I reply.
“Everyone has their price,” he states.
I crack a smile, glancing up as movement catches my eye and someone approaches the cash register. “All right, I have to get back to work. If you can manage to get my phone number, then I will talk to you later.”
“You really want to hang out with a little hellion all night?” he asks, to be sure.
“Chloe will be there, too,” I tease.
“Ha ha,” he sends back, dryly.
“You walked right into it,” I point out.
“I’ll show you a hellion.”
“You already have,” I remind him, before slipping the phone in my pocket, pasting on a smile, and going to ring out the waiting customer.
Chapter 16
It takes Carter just under an hour to get my phone number. He texts me a link to a trailer for the Disney movie we are apparently taking Chloe to with the message, “You asked for this.”
“It looks heartwarming and adorable,” I reply.
“This is definitely the first date you expected, right?” he answers.
“Actually, I never agreed to go out with you in the first place,” I remind him.
“Details, details,” he replies.
I clock out promptly at four and head home, figuring even if I’m not calling it a date, I should probably change out of my work T-shirt before I meet him and Chloe at the movie theater.
Before I even get out of my shirt, Carter texts me that there’s been a change in plans, Chloe is hungry and she insists she needs to eat before the movie. He tells me to meet him at Chick-fil-A down the road from the theater.
“Not there,” I text back.
“Why not?” he asks.
People from my church work there, and I don’t really want to run into them while I’m out with Carter Mahoney. That’s probably the wrong thing to say, so instead, I try a redirect. “How about wings again? Or Sonic?”
“Chloe thinks she’s royalty, she can’t be bothered to eat in a car. She requires sit-down dining and chicken nuggets. If you want to fight with a five-year-old about waffle fries, you be my guest. I’ve already traveled that road. It’s a losing battle.”
I crack a smile. “How about drive-thru Chick-fil-A and we take it to the park? I’ve never known a child to get mad about going to the park, no matter how prissy.”
“Why don’t you want to go inside Chick-fil-A? Do you know someone who works there or something? You like a boy, Ellis? It’s okay, you can tell me.”
Yeah, right. I can only imagine the torment he would inflict on a guy I admitted to liking who isn’t him.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “Apparently I only go out with guys I DON’T like.”
“Oh good, well then I’m all set,” he replies.
I toss the phone down on my bed and turn to the closet, looking for a shirt he won’t try to open while we’re sitting in a theater with a small child. To stay on the safe side, I select a cranberry ¾ sleeve ribbed sweater. The material is thin, but with the sleeves, it’s more fitting for cooler weather. Today is a hot day, but it shows no cleavage and shouldn’t tempt him. I can’t believe I have to pick outfits based on what won’t tempt my date. This is terrible. Good lord.
Shoving away that swell of common sense, I tug the top on and pick up my phone to see what Carter’s last text says. “Your reluctance to go there has made me also want Chick-fil-A. You wanna meet there, or should I pick you up?”
“As always, I am bowled over by your concern for what I wan
t,” I reply.
“You’re welcome,” he replies.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll meet you there.”
* * *
Carter’s Mustang is parked right up front. I park and approach it. Since it’s hot outside, they have the windows rolled up and the air still on, so I make my presence known by knocking on the window.
Carter kills the engine and lets Chloe out. She slides down off the leather seat, appraises me, then says, “You’re the bookstore lady.”
“That’s me,” I say with a nod. “Is it all right if I tag along to the movie theater with you today?”
“Sure,” she says magnanimously, before taking her brother’s hand and stopping at the edge of the sidewalk. I don’t stop walking until I realize she isn’t following, so she chastises me. “Gotta look both ways before you cross the street.”
“That’s right. Thank you for reminding me about that,” I tell her.
Now that she’s sure no cars are coming, she crosses. I walk ahead and open the door for her, all but forgetting the reason I hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place.
Then I see my youth pastor’s younger brother behind the counter and my hopes of not being seen are completely dashed.
“Hey, Zoey,” he says brightly, flashing me a smile. “Lovely to see you, as always.” His gaze drifts past me to Carter and his smile droops.
Steeling myself, I approach the counter and study the menu much harder than I need to. “Hi, Luke.”
“I see you brought a friend,” Luke remarks.
Because he’s an asshole, Carter strides up to the counter and offers his hand. “Carter Mahoney.”
“Yes, I know who you are,” Luke says, his tone a touch reserved as he reluctantly shakes Carter’s hand. His gaze drifts back to me and he makes a painful effort to inject something more like enthusiasm into his tone. “I didn’t realize you were friends with the star quarterback.”
Instead of making my life easier, Carter lets go of his sister’s hand and drapes his arm around my waist, tugging me close. Like he did that first night he showed up at my house and blindsided me with soup and manipulation, he asks, “What looks good, babe?”