Whatever Happens

by Lyla Grace

  She nearly buckles at the knees when I slide my tongue over her clit. “Please, Carter,” she whimpers.

  Her fingers thread through my hair as she writhes against me. I run my hand up her thigh, my fingers sliding into the slick area between her folds. I withdraw them and put my fingers in my mouth, tasting her. “So, good.”

  “Oh, God,” she pants out.

  “Fuck me, Lex,” I tell her as I sweep over her again with my tongue.

  She writhes against me, egging on my movements, quickening them to bring her to her climax. I switch between long strokes of my tongue and small and quick ones as she continues to ride the two fingers I have inside her.

  “That’s it, baby, come for me,” I encourage her as I feel her nails dig into my shoulder.

  She tightens around me, her breathing shallow, body trembling. Damn if it isn’t the sexiest thing I have ever experienced.

  Completely sated she falls back onto the bed. “Jesus, Carter, you’re…”

  Standing in front of her, looking at her now, I realize just how bad this is. I'm stuck in this situation; I don't know how to get out. And, if I'm honest, I don't want to. I'm in love with Lexie. Time be damned, this right here, is all I want for the rest of my life.

  She smiles up at me. “Come here,” she directs me. I take a few steps toward her. She undoes the button and zipper on my jeans. “My turn.”

  I shake my head at her. “I can’t wait. I need to be in you.”

  I climb on top of her, my body covering hers. “Carter…”

  “My shoulder’s fine, Lexie,” I tell her before kissing her silent.

  She hikes her legs up around my hips, angling my dick at her entrance. The moment I slide into her, I feel like I am home. My eyes shut, my head hangs. Her hands come up to my face.

  “Carter, are you okay?”

  “No,” I tell her. “I will never be okay again.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I silence her with mine.

  I make love to Lexie like it's the last time because it has to be.

  No sooner do I unload myself in her, my orgasm hitting hard and fast, I hurry out of bed.

  "Carter," she says softly. I glance back at her in the bed. Her hair is a mess; she looks content and beautiful. I want nothing more than to crawl back in there with her, but I can't. Tonight was a mistake. An amazing one but still a mistake, nonetheless.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Can’t do what?”

  Her voice sounds as confused as my head feels. Why the hell am I pushing her away when my feelings for her are so strong? Where there's a will, there's a way. I'll be damned if I can think of one right now that will make this okay.

  "We shouldn't have done this. We definitely shouldn't do it again. I think it's best if we…are just friends." There, I said it. I sure as hell don't mean it, but at least I said it.

  “Oh.” She nods, wrapping herself further in the sheet.

  "I'm sorry, Lex. I just…, I'm sorry I can't."

  "No, you're right. Being just friends, it's better."

  If that’s true, why does it hurt so damn bad when she says it?

  ∆∆∆

  Everything is so fucked up. Things with Cody. Things with Lexie. As much as I want to make things right with Lexie, I can’t. There is nowhere for us to go, so I decide to work on the one thing that I might be able to fix.

  “Hey, Cody. Can we talk?” I ask him as I walk into the kitchen.

  He puts the knife he was using to chop the onions down and looks up at me. “You want to talk? Or talk at me?”

  “I want to talk,” I tell him as I hop on the counter.

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “Lexie.”

  “I thought she was just your therapist?”

  “It’s…. complicated.”

  “You like her.”

  “Of course I do, she’s my therapist.”

  “No, you really like her. As in you’re falling for her. Man, she’s Coach’s daughter. And they say you’re the smart one,” he says with a laugh.

  "I didn't come here to talk about Lexie. I came to talk about you about us."

  With a sigh, Cody says, “Okay, go ahead.”

  “I want to know why you did it. If you were fucked up, I could have easily gotten us an Uber. Then none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be in this fucking sling; my season wouldn’t be over. But it is, all because you made a stupid fucking choice.”

  “Exactly. I fucked up. And I’ve apologized for it more times than I can count. What the hell do you want me to say?”

  I glance around the room, making sure that no one else is around. The last thing I want is to have my parents find out. It would destroy them after everything I have put them through. "That you'll get help. Man, what's done is done. As pissed as I am that I am in this fucking sling if it meant I got my brother back? I'd be okay with that."

  “I’m fine, Carter. I don’t need help.”

  “Really?” I say as I stare at him.

  He turns away from me so I can’t look into his eyes. So I won’t see that he’s fucked up as we speak. My parents may not be able to tell, but I sure as hell can. “Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you, Carter,” he says.

  It's not the first time he's made that comment. It started as a joke, or at least I think it did. But it's become an unrelenting, unwarranted dig at me. I sure as hell am not perfect, nor have I ever pretended to be. The difference between Cody and me is that instead of giving up when I fail, I try again. He failed and rather than accept my help and work harder; he turned to drugs. He made that his career, not me. Now, he resents my success, that I made it Pro and he didn't. He acts like it was all just handed to me, that everyone helped me succeed and wanted him to fail. None of which could be further from the truth.

  "Oh, give it a rest already Cody. I'm not fucking perfect, never claimed to be. So quit blaming all of your fucking problems on me. I never made you use; I never made you give up football. Those were your choices."

  “What else was I supposed to do? I was never going to be able to compete with you, Mr. Wonderful.”

  I roll my eyes. Cody can't be serious. "Christ, man, it was never a competition," I tell him. "I wanted you out there with me. You're my big brother. Us, playing together, it was all I ever wanted."

  “Bullshit.”

  I'm pissed because for the life of me I don't know where the hell he is getting this stuff. It wasn't that long ago that we were tight, that he was my best bud. But now? Shit, I don't know how to get through to him. Or, even if I can. Because I've told him more times than I can count that I've got his back, I'll do whatever I can to help him and be there for him. But it always turns into this.

  "Think whatever you want, Cody. I'm done covering for you. You fuck up again – you deal with it." As much as it hurts me to say it, there's no arguing with an addict. And I'm tired of trying.

  “Wouldn’t want to tarnish your perfect little reputation. Oh wait, I already did.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Then it sinks in. The text Green sent out. His denial of doing anything but texting it to the guys. The guys that included Cody. Mother fucker.

  “It was you? You posted that fucking video? What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that to me?”

  “Someone needed to bring you down a peg or two,” he laughs.

  I charge at him and slam him against the fridge. The stabbing pain in my shoulder an afterthought. "You son of a bitch. You're supposed to be my brother. You're supposed to protect me. Not try and destroy me. Christ man, after everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me?" I shove off him. "Go to hell, Cody. I am so done."

  I stalk out of the kitchen and head outside. I need to cool off in the fresh air. I need to be alone. I need to fucking punch something.

  Chapter 12 – Lexie

  After visiting with Char and Luke, I filled with hope. That feeling soon dissipated. After taking me home and making
love to me, Carter changed his mind, deciding that it would be best if we were just friends. So, I agreed with him. The hurt look on his face tells me he is full of shit. It doesn't matter, though. He made it clear that we could only be friends.

  Great. Fine. I don’t like it, but I can deal with it.

  At least I could if that were the only problem.

  After our discussion to be friends, Carter and I did his therapy, and then he disappeared. The next time I saw him was therapy the following day. He was like a completely different person. He was angry and withdrawn. He barely spoke to me. When I asked him if everything was okay, he would tell me he's fine. Two words, that's it. I don't know what happened, what I did because when we had left his room that day after making love, we were okay. We were going to try and be friends, even though deep down we both know we want more.

  Maybe it’s easier for him to be angry with me, hate me. The problem is if he doesn’t talk to me or trust me, then how am I supposed to help?

  Or, maybe that’s the point. He doesn’t want my help.

  It's been a week of distance, pissy moods, and half-assed therapy sessions. Even so, his arm is improving. Just not as quickly as I would like it too.

  Despite his mood, though, you can cut the sexual tension between us with a knife. Every time we are in the same room and oh God, during our therapy sessions? Every time I touch him, it's off the charts. I can tell he feels it too; every time my hand touches him, he jerks away like I've burned him in some way.

  I've spent the better part of the past week worrying about it, driving myself insane. So I decided today was a good day for a break. I sent Carter a quick text letting him know that I was canceling therapy for today. Having become remotely familiar with the town, I went for a nice long walk this morning trying to relax and clear my head. My head is still foggy, but my body feels fantastic from the exercise and fresh air.

  When I get back to the house, I plop down on one of the rocking chairs outside. I’m not quite ready to go in. I want to soak up the sun just a little longer.

  “May I join you?” a voice asks.

  My eyes fly open, and I see Rebecca standing next to me, awaiting my reply.

  “Yes, of course,” I tell her.

  She hands me a glass of lemonade before she takes a seat in the chair next to me.

  “Everything okay?” You’ve seemed a little down these past few days.” She is an observant woman considering I do my best to avoid everyone in the house, especially since Carter seems to spend as little time here as possible.

  "Yeah, I just needed a little break, I think," I reply.

  “From work? Or, from Carter?”

  “Both?” I laugh.

  “Mind if I ask what exactly is going on between the two of you?“

  I could lie to her like I do to myself and say we’re just friends, but why bother. “It’s… complicated.”

  She lets out a small laugh, “Isn’t it always.” She takes a sip of her lemonade. “Eventually, he will get his head on straight and realize that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

  Following suit, I take a sip of the lemonade. I also do it because I'm unsure how to respond to that statement. Does she truly believe that? Is she just fishing for information?

  “Holy shit,” I exclaim as I cough.

  “Sorry dear, you don’t like yours with a little bit of vodka in it?”

  A little bit would be a gross misjudgment of how much alcohol is in this drink. But thanks to that little bit of liquid courage, it's not long before we are chatting away and laughing. I hate that I am starting to like his family. Even Richard is friendly now.

  “Hey,” Char shouts as she makes her way to the porch with Luke in tow.

  “Hi Lexie,” Luke says.

  “Hey Lukie,” I reply as a hiccup escapes me causing me to giggle.

  “Is Lexie drunk?” I hear Luke ask.

  “No, I’m just…”

  "She's drunk," Char laughs. "It looks like she has been drinking Grandma's lemonade," Char says as she sniffs my cup.

  “She was thirsty,” Rebecca laughs.

  “Don’t trust her, Lex. It’s her truth serum,” Char informs me. “Mom is a sneaky one.”

  I shrug. “I have nothing to hide.”

  "Oh really?" Rebecca chimed in. "So you are the girl in the video then?"

  “Yes.” Wait, did she say are? “No.” Or did she say aren’t? “I mean… shit.”

  "You can't trust that one," Char laughs, pointing at her mother. "Why don't you go shower and sober up so we can go out?"

  “Where are we going?”

  “I would say to get you drunk, but it looks like you’re already mostly there,” Char laughs.

  I hurry up the stairs to get ready. A night out with Char, just relaxing and drinking sounds fantastic. It's been a while since I got prettied up, but putting my make-up on and dressing up, I feel almost normal again. I feel like the girl I was before Carter turned my world upside down. One last glance in the full-length mirror and I head out to meet Char upfront.

  Just as I am walking through the front door, a deep voice that I have heard little of the past several days calls out to me. “Where are you going?”

  “Out,” I reply with a wave of my hand. I never even turn to look at him.

  “What do you mean out?” Carter shouts.

  “O – U – T – OUT.”

  Ignoring him, I get in Char's car, and we head off to wherever she has decided to take me. After these past few weeks, I could care less where it is as long as it is far from Carter.

  “So, you and Carter are…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  "Come on, Lex; I thought that maybe you and Carter…"

  “We’re a mess. I’m a mess. I am such an idiot.” I rest my forehead on the bar. “It was supposed to be one night. But when I should have been leaving, he made me want to stay. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful and important person in the world. But I ruined it. I kept who I was from him and destroyed any chance we may have had.”

  “Looked to me like he forgave you the other day,” she replies.

  With a shrug of my shoulders, I sit up and face her. "He has, I guess. All he sees now is Coach Masterson's daughter, though. God knows what my dad would do if he found out. I get it…"

  "I don't," Char says, almost furious. "You guys care about each other. Why are you giving up rather than trying to figure something out?"

  I down the rest of my drink and then speak. "I don't have a choice. Carter made that decision for me. You know, this is why I never dated in high school. My dad was a volunteer coach when he could be there, and all the guys were terrified of him. No one would come near me."

  “Carter is usually the kind of guy who goes after what he wants at all costs,” Char informs me.

  Well, that's great. "He obviously doesn't want me enough."

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what you meant, and I appreciate the sentiment. None of it matters though. Carter has deemed us just friends, blah blah blah.”

  I have finally pushed past tipsy and headed straight to inebriated. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cody walk into the bar.

  “Hey Cody,” I shout out to him.

  “Lexie, don’t,” Char warns me.

  It's too late. Cody heard me, and he's on his way over.

  “Hey, Sis, hey, Lexie,” Cody greets.

  Char raises her glass to her brother without saying a word.

  “Want to join us?” I ask.

  “This is not a good idea,” Char replies.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  She doesn't answer, though, takes a sip of her drink.

  Carter may have warned me to stay away from Cody, but aside from saying he's bad news, he never gave me a reason. As far as I'm concerned, Carter is way worse news for me than Cody could ever be. Besides, I don't know the guy; maybe I should at least give him a chance. I mean, he is Carter and Char's bro
ther. How bad can he be?

  I wave her off, and turn to Cody, focusing on the story he is telling me. At some point, Cody even has Char laughing. From what I can see, he's a pretty decent guy. A couple of hours into the night Scott, Char's husband arrives, and they are clearly head over heels in love. She forgets the existence of anyone else in the bar the minute her eyes fall on him.

  Tired of sitting and needing to burn off some of this alcohol, I turn to Cody. “Would you like to dance?” I ask him.

  The minute the words come out of my mouth; Carter instantly fills my mind. It was only a few weeks ago that I had said almost the same thing to him. Look where that got me.

  “I would love to,” he replies.

  We make our way to the dance floor, his arms tight around me, holding me close to him. It feels nice. It just doesn't feel right. Not like it does with Carter. But I can't be with Carter.

  We move to the beat of the music for only a few minutes before I hear a voice bellowing through the bar.

  “Get your hands off her,” the voice demands.

  My head whips in the direction of the sound. Carter. Jerk.

  “Ignore him,” I tell Cody.

  "Damn it, Cody, get your hands off of her," Carter orders. I've never heard his voice like that before; so dark and commanding.

  Moving out of Cody's hold, I turn to Carter. "If you have a problem, Wallace, take it up with me. I asked him to dance," I retort with my hands on my hips, daring him to try me.

  “Believe me, I will,” he replies, eyes locked with mine. “Later.”

  “Okay, well as much fun as this is, why don’t we get out of here,” Char suggests tugging on Carter’s arm.

  I glance around the bar. The few people here are staring and based on Carter's most recent paparazzi moments; she is trying to minimize any additional damage. Then here I am, making them worse.

  “She’s right, let’s go,” I say.

  “I’ll go when I am good and ready, Princess.” He looks at Cody, then back to me. “You never did play with your own toys; you were always trying to take mine.”