Lithium Tides: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

“Wait,” he begged, his hands dug into her waist, forcing her hips back down onto his. “Both, I think. I didn’t know about the party. I was honestly surprised to see you there. I was just dropping off some stuff to my dad, and there you were talking to my sister. You looked so fucking sexy and I thought, this is it, I want her and I’m just going to take her. But then you chose him.”

  “I didn’t choose him. I just didn’t see the point in humiliating him.”

  “That’s not how it felt watching the two of you. I knew you were with him, but seeing it—seeing him touch you, I was pissed and I was wasted and I wanted to hurt you because you hurt me. So, revenge, but not against Trey, against you.”

  He exhaled, bracing himself for her response, but she wasn’t mad. He already told her that, the day on the couch. She had already forgiven that. She was just happy there wasn’t anything else to forgive.

  “Real or revenge?” she asked.

  “Last one,” he creaked, his voice unsure, sad. She could feel his body trembling underneath her. “I don’t want to spend our only night rehashing this shit. You can always ask me more later, but this is it for tonight.”

  “Fine,” she agreed. There were a million moments, a million more questions, but only one that mattered. “The van, Gas Works, the Fourth of July. Real or revenge?”

  He was quiet, thoughtful. His brow furrowed as he worked through the answer to that one himself. A full minute went by and then another and another before he spoke. “I hated him for texting you,” he began. “I hated that he could still contact you. When I dragged you to the van, my plan was to fuck you into submission. I wanted to make you come so hard that you’d block his ass forever. I wanted you for myself. I’d win. I’d get my revenge and the girl, but you were so fucking stubborn. You wouldn’t let me touch you.” He smirked recalling the memory.

  “You were being a dick,” she reminded him.

  “Anyway. You pushed me. Kicking down all my walls and forcing me to tell you things I’d only ever told Ry and Javi. At first, I was just going to give you the same bullshit answer I gave everyone else, but when I looked at you, when I really looked into your eyes, I can’t explain it. It was like drowning, but not dying, if that makes sense? Like I was being born again and I knew I could tell you anything. I knew I could trust you. I knew that I loved you,” he admitted as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. “Real.”

  “Great answer,” she whispered, wiping at the wetness leaking from her own eyes.

  His hands wrapped around her throat as he gently pulled her face to his, their lips grazing. “I can’t,” she breathed against his lips. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

  “I get it, I can wait.” He nodded, kissing the corners of her mouth before pulling back. “What do we do now?”

  “Can I have a follow-up question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this at Gas Works? We decided to leave the past in the past?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because although I loved you, a part of me still wanted to hurt him. I wanted both. I just didn’t realize doing one would jeopardize the other.”

  She nodded her understanding. She got it. Sometimes it was hard to let go of betrayal. She was still learning that lesson. “I’m exhausted,” she sighed. Mentally, emotional, physically.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “I’ve given up on that,” she laughed. She didn’t want him to.

  “Read me your book,” he suggested and she agreed. They spend the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, taking turns reading her words. It was strangely intimate, sharing this part of herself, a part she hadn’t shared with anyone before, not even Jam.

  Once the sun came up, CT reluctantly untangled his limbs from Kensie’s. “I better get back before Jam realizes her car is missing.”

  “You stole her car, too?” She grinned, sleepily.

  “I had the keys so I figured why not.”

  “She’s going to kill you.”

  “I told Ry.”

  “She’s going to kill him, too,” she mumbled.

  “Come on, sleepyhead, walk me out.” They stood, awkwardly, realization sinking in. He was leaving. Time was up. “Where’s your phone?”

  “Umm…in my room on the charger, why?”

  He ignored her question and headed in the direction of her bedroom. He reemerged moments later with her phone in hand. “Unlock it.”

  “Put a please on that,” she demanded with a raised brow.

  “Please,” he said dryly, handing her the device.

  “See, that wasn’t so hard,” she teased, unlocking the phone and handing it back to him.

  He smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding the screen to her face so she could see the background, which was the same as hers, the picture of them at Gas Works.

  She smiled, rolling her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Unblocking my fucking number,” he grunted. “I know we talked about a lot of shit last night, and I don’t expect us to fall back into being CT and Kensie. You don’t even have to answer my calls if you don’t want, but you aren’t allowed to block me ever the fuck again, are we clear? And I changed it back to Peter Pan from Fuckface, FYI.”

  “Whatever.” She grinned, pushing both shoulders up innocently.

  He slipped her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants, before declaring, “I love you.” Placing his hands on either side of her head, he whispered, “And I’m going to miss you.”

  “We were apart for five weeks, what’s three more months?”

  “I was never apart from you. Do you know how many times I’ve slept in my car outside of this building? How many times I’ve sat outside of Safe Haven and watched you play with those kids? I even followed you to your parents one Sunday, but the guard stopped me at the gate.”

  “You stalked me?” Her eyes shot up, her early fatigue forgotten.

  “Felon, remember,” he joked, lifting his hand in the air. “I want to kiss you.”

  “I’m still not ready.”

  “I’ll still wait,” he promised, brushing his lips against her forehead, and then her nose, and across both cheeks, before peppering small pecks on her eyelids, and down her jawline and into the tiny cleft on her chin, then down the base of her neck.

  “Carter,” she protested weakly.

  “Sorry…hey,” he smiled a smile that made her want to rethink everything, “you called me Carter.”

  “That’s your name, isn’t it?” she retorted, feigning annoyance.

  His lips parted as he angled his mouth towards hers again. She wanted to let him kiss her, but she knew it was too soon so she turned, offering him her cheek instead. “Go,” she whispered, “before Jam reports her car stolen.”

  “I love you,” he murmured in her ear.

  “Break a leg.”

  Two weeks, fourteen unanswered phone calls, and a thousand miles separated Kensie and Carter. True to his word, he called her every night, but every night she ignored it. Her little game was brutal, and while the truth made her happy, it hurt like a bitch.

  She’d thought about it a lot in the last two weeks. Could they get past this or was she the biggest idiot in the world for even considering it? She loved him, and he loved her. He confided in her and he confessed his transgressions. He’d given her space to grieve, while stalking her from afar. And then there was the tattoo…

  Tattoos weren’t always permanent, not with laser and cover-ups, but Carter put thought into his ink. He didn’t do things on a whim or a dare. For him, each piece told his story, held his secrets and expressed his greatest fears and wildest dreams. They helped him escape his gilded cage and distance himself from the elitist world he came from, the same world that chewed him up and spit him out, all because his heart was too pure. His tattoos were an extension of his soul, and now so was she.

  Real or revenge? she asked herself. Do you really need more time or are you trying to hurt him like he hurt you? Kensie tugged on the
metal chain dangling from the lamp on her night table, immersing the room in darkness. It was late, and she was too exhausted to answer that question, or maybe it was that she wasn’t ready to admit the truth. Either way, she had a big day ahead of her. They were taking the boys to the zoo. It was her first off-site outing, and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Those kids deserved a little bit of normalcy.

  She lay in her quiet room, praying for sleep to come, but the visions hidden beneath her eyelids were too loud, too frantic.

  Buzz. Her phone danced on the bedside table, springing to life and illuminating the dark room. It was him, right on time. Buzz. It rang again, and again she ignored it. Buzz. Turning on her side, she stared at her phone. She longed to hear his voice but dreaded the feelings it would evoke. Buzz. Buzz. She sighed, scrambling to reach the phone. She couldn’t avoid him forever, right?

  “Hello,” she breathed into the receiver, her heart pounding, prepping for the onslaught of emotions.

  “You picked up?”

  There was enough gratitude in that phrase to melt the ice around Kensie’s heart. Everything hit her all at once. His voice, the longing, the nerves, the resentment. Everything that had bubbled inside of her during the last two weeks boiled over as tears flooded her eyes. She didn’t know why she was crying, but it felt good. It wasn’t pain leaking out of her body, instead, it was relief. “I picked up.”

  Kensie heard voices in the background, distant, garbled, but distinctly feminine. It stung to know there were other women, but what did she expect? “J, man, can you take that shit outside,” Carter growled away from the phone, “I’m talking to my girl.”

  “My bad, dude,” Javi yelled over the giggling bimbos. “Kensie, can you please send CT his balls back? He acts like a real bitch without them.”

  “Get the fuck out!” Carter screamed, dropping the phone. She heard a loud smacking sound, followed by a door slamming shut and the giggling silenced. “Baby, are you there?”

  “Do you need to go?” she asked, wiping at the tears.

  “No, Kensie, I want to talk to you.” The words tumbled from his lips in a rush. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for two weeks.”

  “I don’t want you to miss out on the party,” she said bitterly, instantly regretting it. She didn’t want him to go, she needed him, but why was it so hard for her to admit that?

  “There’s always a party.”

  “Are there always girls?” she pressed, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She hated that she sounded like a jealous girlfriend, but she was insecure and the thought of him with another woman made her sick.

  “Yes,” he whispered softly. It felt like a slap in the face, but she did ask for honesty, she couldn’t take it back now.

  “I bet that’s fun,” she bit, fighting the bile that rose up in her throat. They weren’t together. She never promised they would be, but he did promise to wait.

  “No, it’s not fucking fun,” he snapped. “I know I fucked up and I deserve every ounce of your doubt, but I’m fucking in love with you. I don’t even see other girls anymore, just you. Do you realize how annoying it is to have these bitches throwing themselves at me when the only girl I want hates my guts?”

  “I’m sure you manage it just fine,” she hissed.

  “If by manage you mean I’ve masturbated more times in the last two months than I did when I was thirteen, then yeah, I guess I’m managing.”

  “No groupies?”

  “No, Kensington, my dick and heart belong to you. I. Love. You.” He emphasized every syllable, drilling it into her mind.

  “I don’t hate your guts,” she breathed. Maybe she was naïve, but she believed him.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “I tried hating you. This would be so much easier if I could hate you.”

  “Then why haven’t you picked up until now? Why didn’t you let me kiss you goodbye?”

  “That wasn’t hate. My body is incapable of denying you. A kiss would have led to a touch, and a touch would have led to me on my back and you between my legs.”

  “Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Because we’ve done this twice already and I’m not sure I can survive breaking up with you a third time.”

  “I get that. I do. I’ll do whatever it takes, and I’ll wait as long as I have to because when you finally agree to be mine again, it will be forever. I’m done fucking things up. I’m done making you cry.”

  She wanted to tell him that he still owned her, that she was still his, but she didn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words to him aloud. Yes, he got a tattoo and yes, he was being honest and faithful, but she still had to figure out how she was going to get over what he did. He fell for her eventually, by mistake, but for her, it was real from the start. So, instead of saying the thing he wanted to hear, she sighed and asked about his day.

  “My day?”

  “Yes, no more heavy. Just talk to me.” It was a normal request, staying up late, talking on the phone about their days and their dreams, like a regular couple, like it should have been from the beginning.

  “Well, we played in Iowa tonight, some college town. Nobody knew who the fuck we were, but we brought the house down,” he chuckled. “Creed said they crashed the website.”

  Kensie smiled into the darkness. It was all happening for them. “That’s awesome, Carter, you guys deserve it. Well, Ryder and Javi do. The jury’s still out on what you deserve, Fuckface.” Light was good. Light was easy.

  “Tell me about your day, asshole.” She practically heard that panty-dropping grin all the way from Iowa as he spoke.

  “I made progress on Smoke and Mirrors, and I registered for a 5k.”

  “I didn’t know you were a runner.”

  “I’m not really,” she admitted, “but there’s this app that helps you train. I’ve always wanted to do one of those color run things, but I never really got around to it.”

  “What gave you the push?” he asked as she shuffled, getting comfortable.

  “I made this bucket list kind of thing and it’s one of the things on it.”

  “What else is on your list?”

  “I can’t tell you. It’s personal.”

  “Kensington, I’ve eaten your ass on more than one occasion. I think you can share your bucket list with me.”

  She felt her cheeks redden at his words, words that also sent a flutter to her stomach as visions of riding his face seared her brain. “I’m going to hang up on you,” she breathed. It was an empty threat. She was a mess of want and need.

  “I’m not sorry,” he chuckled playfully, no doubt recognizing the edge in her tone. “Please tell me?” he asked in a low, sexy timbre. He knew what he was doing.

  “It’s nothing revolutionary,” she murmured, fighting the urge to touch herself.

  “It’s your dreams, baby. You are the revolution.”

  Kensie sucked in a sharp breath of air, as what felt like hope bloomed in her chest. This man, this lost boy, this poet, was trying to understand her better, not for revenge, but for real.

  “I mean, there’s big philosophical stuff, like make a difference and touch the sky. Then there’s normal stuff, like the 5k and get a tattoo…”

  “A tattoo?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want to take you to get your first tattoo.” The way he said it, with so much conviction, she couldn’t help but agree. “What else?”

  “Then there’s crazy stuff that I’ll probably never do, like climb Mt. Kilimanjaro or visit a sex club.”

  “A sex club?” he snorted.

  “Yes.” She blushed. “Blame it on reading too many trashy romance novels.”

  “No,” he said dryly. “What’s next?”

  “What do you mean, no?” she huffed. If she wanted to go to a sex club, she was going to go to a damn sex club. She wasn’t asking for permission.

  “I mean, if you want to be tied up and spanked, then all you have to do is ask,” he
said, dropping his voice again, speaking directly to her core.

  “CT,” she warned.

  “What?”

  “You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.”

  “Why the fuck not? I better be the only one saying shit like that to you.”

  “I already told you, this is hard enough as it is.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, just give me another chance.”

  “I should go,” she said, knowing she needed to end this call. They’d made a lot of progress and she didn’t want to go backwards, not anymore.

  “No, baby, don’t hang up yet,” he begged, desperation piercing his tone.

  “It’s late and I’ve got an early day tomorrow. I’ll be lucky to get four hours of sleep.”

  “Kensie,” he begged.

  “Really, you should go have fun.” This time she meant it.

  “Will you answer tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” she replied without hesitation, “I’ll answer tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Friend.”

  “Don’t. That isn’t fair.”

  “Fuck fair, I want my girl back. I’m putting your little ass on notice, I’m going to romance the shit out of you from now until forever. I’m done going at your pace. I’m about to fuck your world up, and you’re going to let me because you need me as much as I need you.”

  “Goodnight, Carter,” she said with a roll of her eyes and flutter of her heart. She believed him, and what’s worse, she craved his chaos.

  “When did it become fall?” Kensie asked Jam as they walked around the corner leading back to their apartment. The evidence of the changing seasons was everywhere. Autumn air invaded her nostrils, and trees that were once green were now varying shades of yellows and oranges, signifying the progression of time. Life moved forward.

  “Are you kidding me, Roth?” Jam huffed, her hand splayed across her barely noticeable baby bump. “Pumpkin lattes have been back for like a month.” Kensie scrunched her nose, looking at her friend like she’d been possessed by aliens. Fall was a season conceived by football and nurtured by her father and his idea that exclusivity sold more coffee than any marketing campaign ever could. “Fuck you, I do realize how basic that sounds, but I blame Victor. There’s probably crack in the recipe. I bet there’s a story there. You think he would give me a comment?”