Paranoia flared up Kat’s spine. “So now you can go and confirm it all to Austin, can’t you?”
“That’s not why I came,” Beth muttered toward the floor before she started to rifle through her bag. She pulled out two brown folders. “I wanted to give you these.”
Kat took them. “And what are they?”
“They’re jobs.”
Kat cocked an incredulous eyebrow.
“Teaching jobs with starting dates for the new year,” Beth added. “One of them is at the school where I’m currently working. I think you’d be perfect, so . . .” She cleared her throat and glanced at the ceiling. “I know I went about it in entirely the wrong way, and I will always be sorry for that, but I want you to be happy, and I know Carter does that. But if you’re with him, you have to be careful. If Austin finds out you two are in love he could use it—”
“What? You tried to set me up with this guy. Why would you do that when you know what he’s like?”
“He isn’t a bad guy, Kat,” Beth replied firmly. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make bad decisions. He has to answer to many important people, and they want Carter out, too. He’s under a lot of pressure. I heard about Ben’s visit to the office. Austin’s going nuts trying to find a way to get Carter out. Adam said he’s never seen his brother so angry, so dangerous, and . . .” She pulled her bag onto her shoulder, breathing deeply. “Just look at the folders. If you’re Carter’s tutor and you’re together, you’re both at risk. Think about Ward, the board, the nonfraternization policy you agreed to. There is so much at stake.”
“You think I don’t know . . .” Kat snapped her mouth shut. She’d already said too much.
Beth’s smile was small but knowing. “Think about it. I’m here if you want to talk. We could go for coffee, or . . .” Beth moved her hand toward Kat, but let it drop before she reached her. “I’m sorry and I miss you.”
She hesitated before she closed her coat around herself. With one more repentant stare, she turned, walked across the lobby, and left.
· · ·
Carter kissed Kat’s hair and nuzzled her temple. They were fully clothed, under the covers of her bed, where Carter had placed her after she’d almost strangled him when he arrived at the apartment a half hour earlier. She’d flung herself at him and he’d shushed and soothed her, while she explained what had happened with Beth.
“I’m so scared, Carter. I’m scared she’s doing this so she has proof that we’re together. I’m afraid she’ll go to Austin and he’ll use that against you. I never thought that sending Ben would— I’m terrified he’ll threaten you and take you away from me. And I can’t—I can’t lose you, I . . .”
Carter kissed her, swallowing her concerns. The tremors of fear ran up her spine under his touch. He hated it. He’d fucking kill Austin if he dared to take his Peaches from him. Let the fucker try.
“He can’t do anything. I won’t let him.” His voice grew dark, menacing. “If he wants the company he can fucking have it. The money means nothing. All I want is you.”
She nodded hopelessly, turning Carter’s anger into panic. He was losing her.
“We can’t let them win,” he said, seizing her chin. “After this weekend, you have to promise me you won’t let them win.” She shook her head, but it didn’t appease him. He held her jaw. “Say the words, baby. I need to hear them.”
“I won’t let them win. I promise you.”
He groaned in a mixture of frustration and desire.
His tongue lay flaccid and unusable at the bottom of his mouth. He gritted his teeth. How could he not tell her how he felt? His body was bursting at the seams with emotions for her, and he simply could not express any of them. He kissed her neck and knotted his fingers in her hair, silently fuming and cursing himself.
“If I take one of those jobs, I won’t be your tutor anymore,” Kat mumbled sadly against his rough cheek.
He’d think about having a new tutor and the antagonism he would feel toward them later. Now was not the time. “But I’ll still have you, right?”
She slid her palm down the side of his face. “You’ll have all of me.”
He gripped the back of her knee and pulled it higher above his hip. She pushed her hands under his T-shirt, her nails grazing his back, while her tongue pushed into his mouth. He could taste her fear and pushed back just as hard to soothe her.
“Fuck them, Kat,” he growled. “Come back to me. Be here with me. Right now,” he demanded. “Don’t think about them. Just think about us.”
There was so much to discuss. So much to think about. There was so much at risk that could tear them apart. Carter clenched his eyes shut, pushing his dread as far away as he could. As long as they were together, he thought, everything would be all right.
“Make me forget. Please,” she begged. “Make me forget all of them.”
Carter rolled her onto her back, hovering above her. “Anything.”
29
Days passed, gradually folding into weeks as Kat and Carter continued to fold into each other. Cautious and careful, they continued to meet at the library three days a week, working as they were expected, while at night they worshipped each other’s bodies in an effort to keep at bay the things that threatened to tear them apart. For those sweet, blissful hours when their limbs entangled and their names became frenzied gasps of pleasure, everything floated away, leaving them to imagine what being together without worry or recrimination would be like.
Carter watched his Peaches carefully from one day to the next, hopelessly aware that the strain of their situation had begun chipping away at her resolve. Outwardly, she appeared the same, beautiful and put together, but he’d begun to notice, when they were alone, she held on to him a little tighter, touched him more frequently, more fervently, as though terrified that what they’d built together would collapse around them at any second.
Carter wasn’t naïve. He knew the obstacles. He worried just as much as she did. His cousin was an asshole of the highest order, no doubt plotting a retaliation that would be sure and swift. Max was still falling into blow with no regard for those who cared for him, and Kat’s mother called incessantly, despite Kat’s insistence that she didn’t want to speak to her.
Shit outside of their bubble was not copacetic. Nevertheless, Carter knew he had to be strong for them both. He’d do anything to help see that smile of Kat’s he adored so much, which was why he insisted she look through Beth’s folder of good intentions for a new job when, after two weeks, it still sat untouched on her coffee table. And why he agreed to accompany her when she returned her grandmother’s car to Chicago in time for Thanksgiving.
To agree to the latter, and doing family-type shit, highlighted just how insane he fucking was. But, truthfully, the thought of Kat being away from him for any amount of time was excruciating. He’d just have to nut up and shut the fuck up.
Kat’s small hand shot out across the car’s center console and covered Carter’s leg, which jumped up and down in earnest. Unable to throw himself from Nana Boo’s Jag and hightail it back to his apartment, Carter settled for decimating the side of his thumbnail, which he shoved inelegantly between his teeth, gnawing on it like a motherfucker.
“Sweetheart, relax.” Kat glanced at him and then back to the road. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Carter scoffed.
Fine? Fine? Was she insane?
Her confidence in both him and the situation was endearing as hell, but his brain had been on fast-forward since they’d left the apartment. Oh God, the fumbling, nervous verbal vomit that would no doubt happen when he met Kat’s favorite family member was enough to turn his stomach inside out. His nerves were just about shot to shi—
“I love you.”
Carter’s eyes closed briefly before they slid over to the breathtaking creature next to him. His hand dropped loudly from his mouth to his lap.
“And Nana Boo will, too.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I just know
it.”
How the hell did she do that? She knew exactly what to say to help calm him down, and, although the need to leap out of the car was still heavy in his stomach, her words made it all the more bearable.
He kissed her temple. “Thanks.” Even though the sentiment seemed grossly inappropriate for how she made him feel, it was all he had. Carter sat back, keeping her hand tightly on his thigh, fingers entwined, securing himself to her. With a deep breath, he stared out of the car window, watching the world whizz by. They had a long drive ahead of them: nine hours, a stop overnight in a motel, and then another six to Chicago.
He looked at the clock.
Only another eight and a half hours to go.
Terrific. Plenty of time to get riled up.
His cell phone chimed from his jeans pocket. He read the display: Max calling . . .
“Hey, man.”
“Where the hell are you?” Max’s words were sharp, high, and slurred.
The idiot was filling his nose at nine in the damn morning. The shit was getting out of hand.
Carter sighed. “I’m headed to Chicago, Max. Where are you?” The faint sound of a female voice sounded in the background. “Who’s with you?”
Ignoring his question, Max retorted, “What the fuck are you going there for?” His tone made Carter bristle.
“Thanksgiving,” he replied firmly. “Kat invited me. I told you about it, remember? You said you’d be chillin’ at Paul’s.”
Max laughed, though it sounded humorless. “Oh yeah. You and Kat. The happy fucking couple.”
Here we go again. There was a crash on the line, something hitting the floor, and high-pitched giggling that could only be chemical-induced. “Max. Are you okay? What’s up?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he spat. “You clearly have better things to do, brother. You always do.”
Carter’s temper spiked. “That’s not true. Don’t be a dick, Max.”
But the line went dead. Carter stared at the cell screen, incredulous and angry. He and Max had spoken little about his and Kat’s relationship, not least of all because Max’s bitterness and anger over Lizzie clouded his ability to see how happy Carter was. The more Carter felt for Kat, the madder Max appeared to become. Carter’s joy was apparently of little importance to Max, who was too involved in his own despair. The amount of coke he was doing daily simply exacerbated the situation.
And Carter was powerless to stop it.
Every time he offered to help—be it money or support—he was met with resistance. Max’s pride was almost as difficult to penetrate as his stubbornness. Carter and Paul had discussed an intervention—the only place for Max now was rehab—but both men knew that would only end badly.
“Everything okay?” Kat’s expression was anxious.
“No.” Carter sent a quick text to Cam and Paul, telling them to go to the shop and make sure Max hadn’t choked on his own vomit or some shit. In irritation, he began fiddling with the radio, playing station commando for a good five minutes, appreciative of the fact that Kat didn’t push further.
“Don’t forget you have to call Diane when we cross the state line,” Kat said instead.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied, settling back in the leather seat of the Jag XJ and letting the sounds of Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” relax into his bones. Carter hummed along and played the invisible chords of the song against the blue vein in Kat’s wrist. He brought Kat’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckle.
She hummed. “Tell me what it is you’re worried about.”
He replied with a peevish shrug, like that shit would discourage her from asking questions. Truth was, there was no escaping Kat and anything she asked him. His ass remained trapped in a cream leather bucket seat traveling across the country at seventy miles an hour.
Awesome.
“Tell me.”
Carter clasped the bridge of his nose. “I’m worried about a lot of things. I can’t think of just one.”
“Okay,” she soothed. “But you should know there really is no need to—”
His patience snapped, his words bursting from him in a sharp rush. “For Christ’s sake, I’m a criminal, Peaches. Of course there’s reason to worry.”
He didn’t mean to bite, but he was beyond edgy. His spine was wired and his stomach was in knots, twisting frequently between fear and panic. Yeah, he was a fucking mess.
Kat remained silent.
He was instantly contrite. “Look, shit, I’m sorry, baby—”
“No, it’s all right,” Kat interrupted. “This is a big deal for you. I’m sorry I’ve not addressed that properly, I really am.” Her sincerity made his chest tight. “Just say the word and I’ll turn the car around. If this is too much for you, I don’t want you to feel this uncomfortable.”
What the hell had he done to deserve her?
“I don’t want you to turn the car around.” He breathed deeply, turning in his seat to see her better. “Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but I want to be with you this weekend.” Carter ran his free hand across his head. “I just want your grandmother to see I’m not just a . . .” He swirled his fingers toward his chest, thinking of a list of not-too-nice adjectives. “You know, and that I care about you.”
Kat slowed the car as they approached a junction. “She will. My grandmother is the very best person I know. She doesn’t judge.”
She laid her palm against Carter’s neck, running her thumb along his jaw. “We can just be us. You and me.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
· · ·
They were only twenty minutes from the house when Carter’s gut began to do backflips. His back was also all kinds of fucking sweaty, which was ridiculous considering it was colder than a witch’s tit outside the car. It’d even snowed a little.
“You feel okay?”
Carter rested his head back, watching Kat drive. “I’ll be fine,” he murmured, pressing his cheek against the headrest. “I’m just gonna watch you until we get there.”
She smiled with her eyes still on the road. “Like when you have a flu shot, huh?”
Carter frowned. “What?”
Kat glanced in the rearview, changing lanes. “When I was a little girl, my dad took me for my shots, and he’d always say that if I didn’t look, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. It wasn’t as scary if you couldn’t see it comin’.” She smiled again, her eyes wistful. “I’d hide in his neck and pray for it to be over.”
“Did it work?”
“Every time.”
The sides of his mouth lifted. She’d spoken a lot about her father since they’d left New York. Carter couldn’t deny he would like to have met Daniel Lane, regardless of how the man would have reacted to Carter dating his daughter.
“Do you think . . . ?” Carter wrapped his thumb around the side of Kat’s little finger hopefully. “Do you think that he would have liked me?”
Kat pulled to a stop, as the lights changed to red, and turned to face him. “I think you and my father are more alike than even I realize. I think he would have thought you were awesome.”
God, he wished that were true enough to erase the dark fear lurking just beneath his skin. “You do?”
“Yeah,” she answered with no hint of doubt in her voice. “I do. Kiss me?”
Carter moved so their lips met. Keeping his eyes open, he watched Kat’s roll back into her head. He let the tip of his tongue trace her bottom lip and sighed when she pulled back and continued to drive.
“I don’t remember having my shots,” he confessed quietly.
Kat glanced at him. “You don’t?”
He shook his head, trying to recollect.
Kat scrunched her shoulders, making her voice bright and indifferent, but Carter knew she was feeling sorry for him. The sympathy prickled his skin like a nettle sting, making his molars grind.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Kat offered. “Having shots is awful.”
> It seemed like such a ridiculous thing to want to remember. He exhaled hard at the memories he did have. Hurt. Tears. Isolation. Hate. Fuck it, he thought, when the anger began to rise. There was no changing his past; he had to look forward, and having Kat at his side was one giant leap in the right direction. He squeezed her leg, his fingers whispering over the denim seam running up the inside of her thigh.
“Carter?” She swallowed.
He smiled. “Yeah?”
“We’re here.”
Carter snapped his head around to see a huge redbrick house appearing at the end of a long stone driveway, surrounded by gardens. Carter’s heart gave a resounding kick behind his ribs. He was suddenly desperate for a cigarette. Frantically patting himself down, he found the pack of smokes in his jeans pocket and swallowed in relief. Thank God.
Unexpectedly, a terrible thought crossed his mind: Shit, what if Kat’s grandmother hated smokers?
“Carter?”
Kat’s voice sounded miles away and when he turned to look at her, Carter had the oddest sensation that he was floating underwater, unable to breathe.
Kat unclipped her seat belt. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
Carter rubbed the center of his chest, willing his airways to open up. It didn’t help. A wave of cold sweat crashed over him, shooting down his back like icy claws. He couldn’t breathe. Christ. His lungs were seizing.
What was he doing? Why had he agreed to this fuckery? He didn’t do this. He didn’t meet families. It was laughable, really, thinking Kat’s grandmother would accept him. She’d never accept him because he wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough.
Stupid, stupid idiot.
“Hey,” Kat said, pulling his hands from his face to her lap.
“Kat, I—I’m not . . .” He gasped. “I can’t.”
“You’re fine, Carter. I’m here and you’re fine.” Kat put her hands on his neck and rubbed his pulse points with the pads of her thumbs. “Tell me,” she murmured, kissing the fingertips of his right hand. “Tell me you know what you mean to me.”
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