It elicits a laugh. “Nope. She has a grin for anyone paying attention to her.”
“That’s gonna be a problem for me when she’s older,” Asher says, then makes kissy-faces at Lily.
I’m torn between laughing and taking a picture so I can use it to remind myself that Lily can even coax Asher into making a fool out of himself.
Sophie picks that moment to come out of the nursery. “I’ve picked a corner, but feel free to move it if—who’re you?”
Sophie stops midway into the room and rakes Asher up and down.
“Who’re you?” Asher asks, settling Lily against his chest.
“A person with permission to hold that tiny tyke. Can you say the same or are you here to kidnap her?”
Asher says dryly, “Permission has been granted by her father.”
“Ah. Suppose that’s okay then,” Sophie says, but cautiously sidles up near me.
“You still haven’t told me who you are,” he says.
“Don’t have to,” Sophie says, then turns to me. “Hungry? I can make us some sandwiches.”
“Uh, sure.” I’m happy to have Sophie depart for the kitchen because Asher is staring at her ass in a weird way.
“A Sophie Spectacular coming right up!” she says and makes her way to the fridge.
Asher stares after her.
“Oh hell, hell no,” I say to him.
He bats his eyes innocently at me, but it only emotes devilish sin. “Whatever am I doing?”
I point toward Locke’s room. “Go. Grab what you need, then go.”
“You don’t own this place.”
“And you can’t touch my friend.”
“Locke would sure be interested to know if you’re hosting friends here.”
“Locke is going to meet her in about half an hour. He knows who she is.”
“Has he said she could stay here?”
“Why do you care?” I say, then realize my mistake.
Asher gives an undertaker’s smile. “Because she can always stay with me.”
“Damn it, Asher, get lost. Give me the baby and just…fuck off.”
He tsk-tsks. “Not in front of Lily-belle.”
The sound, the sheer use of Paige’s nickname for Lily and how it so blithely comes out of Asher’s mouth, has me losing all the blood from my face.
He notices. “Carter? I’m kidding, all right? Swear all you want, I don’t know fuck-all about raising a kid.”
I snap out of it. “Give Lily to me.”
He does, but not without giving me a careful once-over. “This place is too small and crowded, anyway.”
Asher’s insulted, but I don’t care. His use of Lily-belle unintentionally put a hole in my lungs, and I’m still getting my breath back.
I hear Asher banging around Locke’s drawers and shoving things into a plastic bag. He appears in the doorway when he’s done, the thick chain links dangling from his jeans’ pocket clanging. He probably ties women up with it.
“All finished,” he says, raising the bag as proof. He stalks past me, shoots one last look at the kitchen, then says, “See you at the hospital, I guess.”
“‘Bye, Asher,” I say, practically pushing him out the door as he attempts another glimpse at Sophie.
I slam it shut behind him.
“Whew,” Sophie says, sandwiches ready on a plate. She’s even sliced pickles. “That was a sexy storm if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Oh, not you, too,” I say with disgust.
“What?” Sophie’s gaze goes from the door, back to me. “Was he checking me out? Was that high heat, tropical hurricane checking me out?”
“All of you,” I say flatly, “Every single one of you, need to fuck the hell off.”
“Language, Carter!” Sophie admonishes, then lifts up a piece of sandwich and takes a perky bite.
36
Locke
“Here are the briefs you refused to ask Carter to bring you,” Asher says as he enters my hospital room. He dumps a plastic bag on my chest.
“Thank you for your kindness,” I grind out as I attempt to sit up.
“Yeah, and for making me go through your underwear drawer instead.” Asher makes himself comfortable on the chair beside me. “So, you like red, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
Asher relaxes by placing one boot on my bed and crossing the other over. “I’m getting told that a lot lately.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’s the latest chick who saw the light and decided to dump your ass?”
“Yours. Carter.”
I unlock my jaw. “She ain’t mine.”
“Whatever she is, she’s in a fine mood.” Asher cocks his head. “The same kinda cranky as you. If I were a smarter man, I’d say it’s almost as if the two of you are mooning over each other and refuse to admit it.”
“I said. Fuck. Off.”
“She’s got another chick with her,” Asher says.
I want to ignore him, maybe nap some more, but he’s piqued my interest, exactly as he’s intended. “Who?”
“Someone named Sophie. Heard of her?”
“Yeah.”
“Who is she?”
“Not your conquest.” I emit a warning growl, then trail off in a series of sore coughs.
“Fuck, you and Carter, man. Seriously messing with my nuts.”
“I’ve no doubt you’ll bury your nuts elsewhere.”
Asher grins. “Funny you should mention, got one tonight. So, I can’t stay long. But Carter said she’d be here in a few, with your spawn.”
I nod. “Good.”
Asher, in an uncharacteristic show of concern, says, “You two should talk.”
“She doesn’t want to.”
“So? Who gives a fuck? Talk at her then. Tell her what really went on back then, with your baby mama. I dunno, explain to her how you feel and shit.” Asher twists his mouth like the very act of saying such a thing is foreign to him. And hell, it is. To me, too.
“She made her feelings clear,” I say. “I’m not going to push her. I’m not that guy.”
Asher shrugs. “Your call. But that could be the problem.”
“Do expand, Dr. Whittaker. What could the issue be?”
“Call me by my father’s name one more time, bro.”
“I’ll fight you,” I say. “Even strapped to a gurney, I could still kick your ass.”
“In your motherfucking dreams.” He lifts a boot. “I could step on you with this and win.”
“I’ll ram this IV rod right up your dick.”
Asher grins. “I’d still fuck better than you.”
“She’s not going to listen,” I say.
He takes the change in topic without a hitch. “But the question is, do you want her to listen? Is she worth it to you?”
I suck on a tooth, staring at the far wall.
“Look, Ben’s better at this shit, but here are my two cents.” Asher drops his feet to the floor and rests his elbows on his thighs. “I haven’t seen you this way with a chick. Fuck, you had a child with a woman, and I still didn’t see you in that kinda way with that chick. So, Carter means something to you. And if you let her fly off to our bumfuck college town without telling her how you really feel, well, that’s on you, bro.”
“She’s seen all of me, Ash. Carter knows all there is to know. And she’s choosing to run in the other direction.”
“You think that’s because she’s become aware of who you ‘really’ are?” Asher actually uses air quotes. “You can turn that shit around by simply having a conversation with her.”
“Each time I do, I screw it up.” I drop my chin, exhausted. “Or I don’t say what I’m supposed to. How’m I supposed to know what’s right? When we met, Carter preferred to stay at a hostel in midtown than room with me. Was that the time to tell her, oh hey, I slept with your friend, who’s now dead after suffering through cancer and forced to leave her baby behind, on a bet, for ten hundys. But I’m totally ready to be that kid’s dad now.”
&n
bsp; I slump in the hospital bed as if I’m not currently slumped over like a limp prick.
“How about…you relate to her with your mom?”
I curl my lip at him and glance away.
“It’s under the bridge, anyway. You and Carter are at this point now because of the both of you idiots. It’s neither one of your faults.”
“I’m pretty sure it is. Numero uno, right here.”
“Your pity party’s getting lame.”
“What’s lame is being unable to accept that a girl doesn’t want me. But it really digs, the fact she’s the only woman who understands the real me.”
“Dude, I’ve been with you at rock bottom. I’ve run with you to the top. In all those directions, I’ve never left, because I know you. You threw broken beer bottles at me, tried to stab me in the eye once.”
“I did?”
“Yup. I flushed all your pills down the toilet.”
“I don’t remember.”
That whole period of time, after my first knee surgery, was nothing but a drunken, drug-induced haze, and I was probably better off not recalling it in great detail.
“Not the point. If Carter has seen the real you and wants nothing to do with it, her loss, man. Her fucking loss.” He sits straight. “‘Cause you’re fucking awesome. I wouldn’t be here, have willingly slogged through the type of shit you dragged me into if you weren’t.”
A smile plays at my mouth, but I stifle it. “Aw, Ash…”
He points at me. “Never mention this again. Got it?”
“So long as you tell no one about my preference for red briefs.”
“It’s to hide the lipstick.” Ash winks as he stands. “I’m all for it.”
I take a careful breath. I’m able to breathe deeper these days by only a fraction. “You said they’re on their way?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m leaving it up to Carter. If she chooses to end…whatever this is…then I’ll respect it.”
Asher casts his eyes to the ceiling. “Dude, you really gotta work on your communication skills.”
“Like you don’t?”
“Yeah, but I’m comfortable with my inability to look deep inside a woman, other than the obvious. You’re clearly in love with this one. What’s she have, a nacho-flavored vagina?”
I bare my teeth. “Don’t you fuckin’—”
“See?” Asher shows all his teeth with a grin. “Told ya.”
“Get lost.”
“Gladly. This soap opera ain’t my kinda show. Catch you later, H.”
“Uh-huh.”
Once he leaves, my head falls back into the airless pillows, and I curse at the ceiling.
I’m pretty sure, after a good few years of trying, I’ve sunk as low as I can go.
And it doesn’t feel as comfortably numb as I wish it would.
37
Carter
Over the next few days, Sophie makes herself comfortable on the couch in Locke’s living room, and I remain in Lily’s nursery, cleaning when needed and ensuring Locke’s bedroom is made ready for him when he comes home.
Because I just got the call. He’s being released this afternoon.
For most of the week, I’ve settled into a concrete schedule of Lily’s naps, Locke’s hospital visits, and ensuring both ate their required amount of calories. Sophie was a welcome balm in the spaces between, uncorking a bottle of wine some evenings and patting the couch beside her, encouraging me to open up to her about all my woes.
Annoyingly, I can’t stop talking about Locke.
On the last night, before I was told of Locke’s return, Sophie finally called me on it.
“If you like him this much, why don’t you just tell him?”
“That’s the thing, Soph. I already did. He, we, saw each other in all the ways you’re supposed to see someone you’re falling in love with. And still, he didn’t share the basic facts about himself.”
“Have you asked him why?”
“Do I need to? I was duped. Conned into bed with him. Made a fool. Worse, I’m no better than the many one-night stands he had before me. What did I think? I’d be the one to change him?”
“Want to know what I think?” Sophie sipped her red wine carefully. She was conscious of spilling on someone else’s carpet. Ours, however, she was happy to stain.
I take a large gulp from my own glass. “You’re not going to convince me to trust him again.”
“You’re terrified.”
I almost choke. The wine burns like vinegar in my throat. “Excuse me?”
“Hear me out.” Sophie shuffles closer. “You’ve lost Paige. You’re coming to terms with losing Lily. Your parents and brother ignore you. Everyone you love goes away. This is classic textbook stuff.”
I glare at her over the glass rim. “If you say I’m afraid to love, I’m throwing this in your face.”
“Au contraire. You want to love. All these people? They have your love regardless. Paige’s death didn’t change that. Lily being in another state doesn’t change it. And Locke’s past, as slutty and secretive as it is, doesn’t change the fact that you love him.” Sophie rests a palm on my thigh. “You love him, Carter.”
“No.” I shake my head for emphasis. “I’ve been lied to, shut out from, and betrayed by him. He probably made money off me. He and his friends probably bet he could sleep with me—”
“All things you wouldn’t feel if you didn’t care deeply.” She pats my leg affectionately. “Think on it. I’m no shrink, but I’m so on the money with this.” She grimaces. “No pun intended. If they bet on you, I’ll cut their dicks off and serve it to them as stew.”
“I’m leaving,” I say, mouth grim. “Moving back to Florida.”
Sophie leans back in the crook of the cushion and couch’s arm. “Whatever you say.”
As Sophie predicted, it’s all I can think about as I go to bed that night after lingering above Lily’s crib, taking in her round-faced innocence and beauty. Thoughts continue as I wake up the next morning before sunrise and fix Sophie and me a coffee (quietly, so as not to wake her before said caffeine hits her veins), and exactly what I ponder when the hospital calls and tells me Locke should be discharged around noon.
I didn’t hear it from Locke himself, of course. He’s given up on anything except the most basic communication after I told him nothing connects us other than Lily.
Liar.
There hasn’t been a single text from him, and he was given his cell phone back. Barely cracks a smile when I walk into his room and meet his tired eyes. And the half-hearted wave good-bye when I leave? That one is the worst.
Why am I so pissed? This is what I asked for. Even Sophie doesn’t have to bring that to light. Locke is doing precisely what I want him to do.
It’s not his fault it’s making me feel like I weigh double, with most of it resting on my heart.
I’m wiping down the kitchen counters as Sophie rouses, not a morning person but forced to become one when she decided to room with a baby. Before her eyes are fully open, I set a fragrant, steaming cup beside her. Her nostrils flare, and she smiles as she stretches. “Mmmmm.”
“I’m going to wake the baby,” I whisper.
“Mm-kay. I’ll help in a sec.”
“No need,” I say, and disappear into the nursery to tend to Lily.
When I come out, Sophie is weirdly alert and scrolling through her laptop. “I’m flying out today,” she says, then makes grabby motions for the baby. “Lemme hold her.”
Lily, content with a bottle, settles into Paige’s arms.
“Don’t you want to stay for her birthday in a few days?”
“Right! This little chicken’s turning one! Can’t believe it.” She bops Lily’s nose with a finger. “You’re practically an angsty teenager.”
“Stay,” I say, and mean it. I’m suddenly afraid of being in this apartment with Locke for the next few days. I’d much rather have Sophie as a buffer between us.
“I’d love to, but I ca
n’t. I have to be back at work.” Sophie studies me for a moment. “Boss is asking about you.”
“Bert gave me my four weeks. What’s he threatening? Someone else to do the data-entry?”
“Karen. He’s got Karen at your desk.”
I make a face. “I dislike that woman.”
“She dislikes you. And she’s hangry for your position.”
I wave it off, and Sophie raises a brow. “I agree, sister. You’re better off painting.”
“I’ve sold only one.”
“So far.” Sophie bounces Lily on her knee, now that she’s tossed her empty bottle like a football across the room. She really is Locke’s. “And it’s made you happy.”
“It doesn’t pay the rent.”
Sophie’s about to respond, probably within the realm of if you’re even coming home to pay the rent, and I’m one second ahead with a denial when the buzzer sounds.
“Hang on,” I say to her.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Hello?” I ask once I push the talk button by the apartment door.
“This Lachlan Hayes’s place?”
“It is. Who’s this?”
“This is Coach Becks, from the high school down the road. He left something behind I’d like to return.”
I frown, turn to Sophie. She shrugs, and I assume would become fairly squirrely if it turns out this is a robber. “Come on in.”
Heavy footfalls sound almost immediately, and I open the door to meet a sturdy, bald man with tiny spectacles balanced on his nose and a tight grey polo shirt around his belly.
“Hi, miss.”
“Carter.” I offer my hand but see he can’t give his because he’s holding a stuffed toy.
“Lily’s bunny rabbit!” I exclaim. It’s rude of me, but I grab for it. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere.”
“AHBAH!”
Lily’s shriek ricochets down the hallway, forcing Coach Becks back a step. “Oh, my.”
“She’s been missing this dearly. Thank you so much for bringing it by,” I say. I toss it to Sophie, who catches it and is immediately arm-tackled by Lily.
“It must’ve fallen underneath my desk at the school. Janitor scrounged it up this morning.”
Trusting You Page 28