by Celeste, B.
We’re already complicated.
“Maybe,” I relent.
His smirk tells me he doesn’t believe my reply, so he just lets it go. “Regardless of what anybody might think, I am here for you. Nobody deserves to go through what you have. You’re strong, Piper. You always have been.”
That makes me snort. “I was never strong. In fact, I remember Jesse telling me I was a baby whenever I pitched a fit about something.”
His lips quirk. “Jesse’s your brother. He’s supposed to be an asshole to you. But even he was amazed by you at times. Like when the neighbor’s dog bit you in the leg and you managed to fight him off and run back home even though you were bleeding pretty bad. You never cried once. Not even when Jesse rushed you to the hospital once he realized what happened. He said you never shed a tear even when you were getting stitches.”
I rolled my eyes. “They numbed my leg.” I still have scars from that. It wasn’t the dog’s fault I tried to pet it while it was eating in his yard. I got too close and he got territorial. Not once had the German Shepard ever bit anyone. In fact, it was usually the friendliest animal. “If I’d ratted out the dog, they would have had to put it down. I had a classmate who got bit by her parent’s dog and they had to put it to sleep.”
Carter just looks at me.
“Anyway,” I continue, “Jesse bribed me with ice cream after that whole ordeal. I didn’t want to cry because I was afraid he’d go back on his deal. I’m not strong.”
“You are.”
We’ll agree to disagree.
We move onto the actual reason we’re in here, which is to go over the first papers that were due for his 101 class. He shows me the grading rubric and what to look for, then shows me the stack of papers on the corner of his desk. There are thirty students in his class and the paper was a minimum of five pages, no more than ten. My bet is that most of these are four and a half with a work cited page.
When I grab a pen out of my bag to jot down some pointers he gave me, the gift card falls out with it. I pick it up, but not before Carter says, “Still haven’t gone?”
I put it back, giving him a small smile. “I told you before I don’t have a lot of time. I’ve thought about going soon though. I just haven’t worked out the details.”
His brows go up in curiosity.
“On whom to go with,” I enlighten, waving my hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t really matter. I always feel weird eating at places on my own unless I can sit at the counter so it’s less weird. You know?” I’m babbling now, which makes my cheeks heat. “But yeah. I’ll go. I’m sure they think I really hated their stuff now.”
“We can go.”
I jerk back.
“If you’d like,” he adds casually.
Uh… “Did the whole friendship conversation get lost on you? If the administration would look down on us possibly being friends, they definitely wouldn’t like the idea of us going out to eat together. Platonically, of course.”
He nods once, lips twitching upward slightly like he’s amused. “Of course.”
“And if they knew you drove me home, it’d only be worse,” I point out for good measure.
He watches me for a moment. “We already saw each other there once. By pure coincidence.” And his point is what? “Who’s to say we wouldn’t meet there again by the same odds? It’s not that big of an area.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
“We could find ourselves there together,” is the next statement that leaves my lips parting at him in wonder. “Tomorrow night at seven.”
Tomorrow. Friday. Friday is like a date night. That’s when people meet up for … dates. Is that weird? Am I really overthinking things with him?
He adds, “Platonically.”
I swallow. Platonically. I could do that. Find myself there at seven tomorrow. It gives me time to find somebody to watch Ainsley. Maybe Jenna. My parents would probably do it if they didn’t have plans for themselves.
I’m not sure when I start nodding, but he’s nodding back. It’s a silent agreement.
Carter Ford and I will go to dinner.
Together.
On a platonic non-date.
Chapter Seventeen
Anxiety creeps into my conscience as I flatten my palms down the sides of my outfit that Jenna picked out for me. The black lace blouse is tucked into the extra tight skinny jeans that my best friend insisted was casual and sexy—two things she told me I needed to go for. Pairing them with a comfortable pair of gray heeled boots that go to my shins, I examine myself once more in the mirror before accepting this is as good as it’ll get.
The ride to Bellamy’s is quiet. Too nervous to listen to the radio, I absorb the sound of passing traffic instead. I’m in the parking lot next to the dimly lit restaurant before I know it, noting the familiar vehicle Carter gave me a ride in a few rows in front of me. My eyes drift to the time on the dashboard. We’re both early.
Clearing my throat, I give myself a pep talk like Jenna told me to do and then get out of my car. Purse over my shoulder, phone in hand, I walk up to the entrance and falter when I realize I don’t know what to say. Do I say I’m waiting for someone? Request if he’s here? The panic settled into me earlier comes back tenfold as somebody opens the inside door for me with a smile, giving me no other choice but to walk in.
“Hey.” Stricken, I glance to the voice that greets me, noting Carter leaning against the wall. Like my eyes that drift down his black pants and the royal blue button down tucked into his waist, he gives me a once over with a growing smile on his face. “You look beautiful tonight.”
We saw each other earlier for the class we now co-teach and there was nothing unusual about it. He taught, I made a point or two, but mostly focused on the students. Nobody would have guessed we’d be here hours later, both in new outfits and waiting for each other for dinner.
“Hi.” I lick my lips. “And thanks.” My hands go to my sides again, brushing out a wrinkle in the shirt I should have left untucked. Jenna told me my figure is shown off better if I tuck it in, but now I regret listening to her.
“You look sexy, Piper. Sexy is good.”
“Sexy isn’t what I’m shooting for.”
“Everybody shoots for sexy,” she argues, giving me the evil eye that I know better than to argue with. “Make him drool and regret this is a non-date.”
Like always, my extravagant bestie made me feel empowered. But as soon as the tables turn and I’m on my own, self-doubt takes over any courage she gave me. While I do like the outfit, I think I could have gone with something slightly more casual. Preferably something that doesn’t feel as painted on as the jeans I squeezed into.
He gestures toward the hostess booth. “Table for Ford,” he tells the young girl.
She checks the book in front of her and nods once, grabbing two menus and telling us to follow her. Carter’s hand goes to the small of my back, gesturing for me to go first. I look over my shoulder at him and smile. “You must have great intuition to reserve a table for the possibility of somebody showing up at the same time as you.”
“Maybe I just hoped,” is his smooth reply. It makes me bite my lip and overanalyze each of the four words. He hoped to see me. I’m not sure what to do with that.
When we arrive at our table in the corner, Carter pulls out a chair for me. Surprised, I take a seat and smile gratefully at him and watch him sit across from me as the hostess gives us our menus and says the waitress will be over shortly.
For some reason, I decide to blurt, “I’ve never had anybody pull out a chair for me. That was … nice.”
One side of his lips quirk up as he takes the menu and examines the beverage section on the back panel. “Sounds like the people you’ve been out with are lacking on their manners.”
A smile tugs on my lips. “Is that your way of trying to figure out what kind of people I dated?”
He chuckles, setting the menu down. “If this were a date, which it’s not, I’d say n
o. It’s rude to talk about exes on the first date. But since it’s not a date, then yes.”
My brows go up. “You want to know about my exes?”
His chin dips.
“I don’t have any.”
Now his brows arch, surprise clearly coating his face. “You’ve never dated anybody? Not once?”
Clicking my tongue over how pathetic that sounds coming from him, I simply shake my head and stare at the fountain drinks they offer. It seems wrong to go for the alcohol, though this conversation is making me want some.
He makes a noise with the back of his throat and leans back in his chair. “Why not?”
Groaning, I dare to meet his eyes. “There are a lot of reasons. The most recent would be the six-year-old I take care of. Guys don’t really pick single mothers as their first go-to. We’re like the tapioca when all the other pudding flavors are sold out, you know?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes dance, the dark brown now full of mischievous. “I happen to love tapioca.”
My heartrate picks up a little.
“That’s the most recent reason,” he redirects. “What about the other reasons? You can’t tell me Ainsley is why you don’t see people. There’s not a doubt in my mind you’re the type to be noticed by men.”
Wow. This is not how I expected dinner to go. Body heating over the question, I try focusing on the menu to choose something to eat that won’t go over the gift card balance. “You already know the reason, Carter.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes on me based on the way the top of my head burns. I choose a salad, memorizing it for when the waitress comes. “Because of Danny?”
I remain silent.
“Because of Danny,” he confirms to himself quietly.
Finally, I say, “Because of an unrequited love I held onto. Maybe there were guys who were interested in me, but I never noticed them. If I wasn’t swept up in Danny, I busied myself with school. Then the accident happened, and my life changed forever. Danny was gone and I got Ainsley, and people started looking at me for an entirely different reason. So, no. I’ve never really dated.”
His lips press together, but before he can reply, the waitress comes over and asks for our order. Once both drinks and food have been placed, she takes our menus and leaves us be again. The air is tense. His eyes are dark. And my mind is screaming to run.
But I don’t.
I’m sick of running.
“What about you?” I ask, changing the subject in hopes he’ll roll with it. “Any exes that plague your mind and dreams?”
He manages to grin, letting the focus on me go. That’s why I like Carter. Not once has he pushed with me. “An ex fiancée actually. Elizabeth. We dated for about three years before I popped the question.”
I blink. He was engaged to the woman I heard my mother talk about. “Wow. I’m sorry that didn’t work out.”
His shoulders lift. “It was mutual to end things. Nobody cheated. Nobody lied. We realized that we weren’t made for each other before it was too late.”
“Do you still talk?”
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing for us to say. She moved back to Georgia where her family is, so we don’t see each other. Before her were a few others—girlfriends, not fiancées. More than I’d like to admit. Not as much as your brother though.”
I roll my eyes at the last remark. “Jesse always insisted he’d never settle, huh?”
His nod comes easily. “Ren is good for him. He’s changed a lot since she came into his life and I’m happy for them.”
“Me too.” The answer is quick, genuine. Even if we don’t talk or see each other much, I’m happy my brother could find that happiness.
His body shifts on the seat. “Do you mind me asking why you were taking a sign language class at the Rec Center? You don’t have to explain, I was just curious.”
Wetting my bottom lip, I take a moment to decide if it’s my story to tell. “It’s for Ainsley. Well, the both of us. She doesn’t verbally communicate, so one of her teachers suggested learning sign language.”
“She’s mute?”
“Select mute,” I correct quietly. I’ll always remember the day she stopped talking. She was young, always babbling on about something to whoever would listen. She learned to talk at a young age and knew things most kids didn’t. Ainsley was smart. So, so smart. And after her father passed away, she shut down. Never again did I hear her questions or random facts or laughter.
I miss that the most.
Her laughter.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
My shoulders lift like it’s not a big deal. It is, it’s just not one he can do anything about. His apology will get us nowhere. “We’ve been signing more to each other as we learn. She’s picking it up quicker than I am. I swear she’s a child genius, Carter. It makes me wonder if she was really Danny’s.” A laugh bubbles past my lips at the ridiculous statement. “I mean, of course she was. But he always hated school and learning and nearly failed a grade. Remember? I think Ainsley takes after her mom. I didn’t know her that well.
“Anyway, it’s nice to see her talk in some form. I’m not as quick to learn, but I know enough to get by. We’re going to keep taking classes to get better since the courses aren’t that long at the Center. My parents are even learning, and my best friend said she’d sign up too.” Smiling at the effort everyone wants to make for Ainsley, I sigh. “I’m lucky. I always thought I was cursed, but I’m lucky to have them. You know?”
“It sounds like you surround yourself with good people,” he agrees, smiling.
And I do. I really do.
Feeling the pressure of first non-date jitters leave my body as the heavy conversation lightens, I lean back in my chair and give him a sultry smile. “So, Carter Ford. Tell me all your deepest, darkest secrets.”
His eyes burn into mine, something lingering in them as he studies my expression closely before his own lips carve into a smirk mixed with amusement and something else. Interest? I can’t be sure. “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that.”
We. Not me.
It’s pitch-black when I make it back home, well past midnight. After dinner was drinks and a long walk to sober up and talk about everything and anything we wanted to. Mundane fun facts like favorite colors, food, and movies. He was surprised to learn mine are purple, barbecue chicken pizza, and The Wizard of Oz. Though, I’m not sure why the movie choice is that shocking since I watched it all the time when I was younger.
It was his choices that didn’t surprise me at all. I’ve always known blue was his favorite color and that he loved any type of pasta, or that Chainsaw Massacre was his nostalgic go-to. He and Jesse would always bribe me into watching the movies with them as more came out, then betting each other how long I’d last before hiding in my room.
Carter always bet in my favor.
He also always lost.
With barely any buzz coursing through my limbs, I lock the front door and note the kitchen light on. Stepping out of my shoes and leaving them by the couch, I walk into the kitchen for a glass of water and see Easton making a sandwich on the island.
“Hey,” I greet, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water.
“You’re home late.” There’s no accusation in his tone. It’s just a simple statement.
I turn and watch him slather mayo on the bread and note the tomatoes sliced on the other. It makes my stomach rumble even though Carter bought us a late-night dessert at a café right before we parted ways. “I was out to dinner with somebody.”
His eyes go to the clock on the oven before swiping over to my face. “Dinner? Like a date?”
Wincing, I shake my head as he studies the outfit melded to my body with a sour look crossing his features. “Not really a date, no. More like … two people who met up and ate a meal together and talked. It was a non-date.”
“A non-date?” he says slowly.
I nod, sipping my water. “It was probably with
the same guy who sent the flowers.”
“The flowers?”
Why the hell is he repeating everything I’m saying? “Yes, the flowers.” Both our attention turns to the bouquet in question, still holding strong behind me on the counter. “You know, the ones I embarrassingly thought you bought for me. And it’s honestly fine you didn’t. I don’t expect anything from you. It’s just sex. Good sex. So, yeah. I went out. But not on a date. On a non-date with food and conversation. And then alcohol.”
His eye twitches. “You’re drunk.”
“I’ve sobered up.”
His eyes flick back to the flowers. “The flowers, huh?” He shakes his head and puts his sandwich together, cleaning up after himself. “I hope you had fun then.”
Walking past me without a second look back, he exits the kitchen. But I don’t want to end the conversation knowing the pinched expression on his face is there. “Why do I feel like you’re mad at me?” I call after him, following the brooding man toward the stares.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He stops a few steps up and turns. “Why should I care if you go out on a date, Piper? We’re just fucking, like you said. Go out and see whoever the hell you want. Just know that this thing between us ends here. I’m not into double dipping.”
My lips part as hurt slices my chest. Is that what he really thinks of me right now? “I didn’t sleep with him. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He lifts his shoulders. “Like I said, I don’t care. It’s probably better we stop anyway. You’re free to go on as many non-dates as you want. I probably have plans for tomorrow night as is. Look at us moving on.”
Moving—
I watch as he walks upstairs, biting into his sandwich and closing himself in his room. I remain at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what just happened. My grip on the railing tightens as tears blur my vision, but I force them away and clear the emotion clogged in my throat. The burning sensation resides despite me holding my head up and pretending it doesn’t matter.