Resuscitate Me

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Resuscitate Me Page 7

by Leddy Harper


  “Did I put you to sleep?” I asked with a very girly giggle. Of course, he didn’t answer me, so I released a slow sigh, deepened the smile on my lips, and whispered, “Goodnight, Carter.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The vents blew cold air directly on me, drying the perspiration on my overheated skin. As glacial water ran down my throat, the temperature caused my chest to constrict almost painfully. I knew I’d gone too hard on the elliptical, but it couldn’t have been helped. I needed to work out my aggression, and that seemed to be the only way to get it all out.

  I sat on the somewhat padded seat of the machine and set my sights on the people congregated by the front door. Carter stood by the merchandise desk, his back to me, with a blonde practically pushing her breasts in his face. It wasn’t the busty woman who irritated me—it was the tattooed wall of muscle letting her fondle him that ignited my vexation.

  I’d officially given up on him.

  The day after our date, I walked into the gym and found him waiting for me. He assisted me on the rock wall, spotted me, and then helped me out of my harness. He’d kept his eyes trained on me, burning a hole in my backside as I climbed, and then teased me with “accidental” touches when I made it back down. Our banter had been fun and flirty the entire time I was there. After that, I didn’t see him again for a few days, but we continued to talk through calls or texts. I’d convinced myself he was interested and hadn’t abandoned the idea of seeing me after our night in the empty private room.

  But then the next time I’d gone into the gym—and he knew I was coming in—it was as though he didn’t have time for me. I’d gotten a quick hello when I first walked in, and then he disappeared. Being the desperate girl we are sometimes known to be, I waited around for two hours, moving from machine to machine in hopes he’d come out of wherever he’d hidden, but he never did. I ended up leaving without seeing him. To make matters worse, it took him hours to respond to my text. I’d sent him a message saying bye, stating I didn’t want to bother him when I left.

  He only responded saying, “Yeah, it was a crazy day.”

  So, I decided I’d leave him alone and let him come to me, which he did. The next night, he called and we talked for two hours until I could no longer keep my eyes open. Apparently, he had a photo shoot out of town and had to leave in the morning, but he said he’d be back in a few days. To my surprise, he continued to talk via text while he was gone. It gave me hope he’d want to see me when he got back.

  A couple of days after he left, I got a message letting me know he was home, but that he had a lot to take care of at the gym. He told me he’d let me know when he was caught up so we could make plans to get together again.

  That was two days ago.

  And I hadn’t heard a word from him since.

  I’d been on the elliptical for twenty minutes, pushing myself to the breaking point. I had sweat dripping between my breasts and my lungs couldn’t catch up. If I’d been attached to hospital monitors, they’d be going crazy with bells and alarms from my furiously erratic heartbeat. Without the vents pushing cold air directly onto my face, I’d probably pass out from exertion.

  Although, it wasn’t all due to my workout.

  At least half my racing heartbeat and spiked blood pressure was caused by the sight unfolding in front of me. He still hadn’t seen me as far as I knew. He came out of his office and headed straight for the front desk, where he’d spent the last ten minutes engaging in what appeared to be an inappropriate conversation with the blonde.

  I couldn’t be here and watch it for another second. The longer it went on, the more my chest tightened and the faster my heart pounded, ricocheting off my sternum. A small part of me wanted to wait until they finished talking before I left…but that meant I’d have to sit and watch it play out. My imagination rivaled the likes of successful movie producers. I’d convinced myself if I waited, I’d end up witnessing the two of them strip each other naked and fuck like animals against the glass panes of the front door. And then I’d have to politely ask them to move so I could leave, which would only piss him off, and in the end, I’d be double billed for my membership and have to clean off the sweaty machines to afford the extra charges.

  I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  So I finished my bottle of water, pulled myself from the machine, and strutted to the front door with my head held high. I planned to act like I hadn’t seen him—if he even bothered to acknowledge me—and ignore any calls or texts from him I might’ve received.

  However, every one of my best-laid plans usually blew up in my face.

  And this one was about to explode.

  Self-pride swelled inside me, propelling me toward the exit. I reached the door without making eye contact. My name ended up being repeated three times behind me before meaty fingers wrapped around my sweaty upper arm and halted my progress.

  In my head, I imagined turning toward him with an innocent grin, batting my lashes and saying, “Oh, Carter, I didn’t even see you there. How have you been?” Except that’s not at all what happened. I did turn around. I did attempt to smile. But while my lips curled up, my chin quivered, and it ended up being more of a grimace than a grin. As for those words laced in sweet contempt…they ended up being, “What are you doing here?”

  He released his grip on me and scratched at his jaw while fighting back his forgiveness-inducing smirk. The way the morning sun drifted through the glass panes and basted him in his very own spotlight made his eyes take on the color of a freshly cut lawn right after a summer rain shower. It was enough to hypnotize me. And when he finally spoke, his voice was the final nail in the coffin.

  “It’s my gym. Where else would I be?”

  That’s when I started to bat my eyelashes at him, but not at all in the sexy way I’d pictured before meeting his longing stare. Instead, I blinked in a vain attempt to hide my humiliation. No such luck, though. The edges of my ears began to burn, along with the tops of my overheated cheeks, and I just knew my mortification was written in splotchy crimson patches of skin trailing down to my chest.

  Carter dropped his chin so his attention was on the floor while he ran his fingertips over his bottom lip. As if remembering the blonde, he peered over his shoulder. When his gaze met mine again, he lowered his voice and asked, “Do you have a few minutes to come to my office? I kinda wanted to talk to you about something.”

  And as if I just remembered the set of boobs on legs, I took a step back and fell right into the door. “I’m running late. I have to get back home so Danni can go to work.”

  He checked his watch, and I knew I’d been caught as soon as his brow furrowed. “You still have two hours before she leaves.”

  The simple fact he recalled something I’d told him a week ago almost had me giving in. But then I reminded myself of his hot and cold temperament over those last seven days, and I quickly stopped the melting process.

  “It’ll be quick, I promise.” He raised one eyebrow, as if waiting me out. When I didn’t say anything else, he pulled his shoulders back and crossed his arms over the black T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. “There’s a problem with your account. I just need to go over a few things.” And here it is—the added fees and double charges I’d have to scrub toilets to pay off. Maybe even clean the mirrors of the handprints from the next woman he took back to the room.

  I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Fine. But I really can’t stay long.”

  Something akin to relief flashed in his vibrant orbs, but I wasn’t afforded enough time to decipher what it meant before he turned his back to me and led the way. He took me down a hallway and opened a door at the end marked “Owner.” I’d never been inside before, even though he’d made numerous comments about having his way with me in there.

  I was in awe of his office after I stepped in. The far wall was made up of the same windows as the front of the gym, which lent a view to the front walk and parking lot. As I stood next to his desk, I watched a few girls walk by. The
y didn’t appear to be much younger than me, but with the way they inspected their reflections, I had to assume there was a bigger age gap than I originally thought.

  “This office has mirrored glass. I hate being in here because everyone likes to look at themselves as they walk by,” Carter said from behind me, and with the sultry air on the back of my neck, I knew he was close.

  “I bet that gets distracting.” Even though he couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes.

  “It does.”

  His nearness irritated me. A week ago, I didn’t think I could ever get enough of it, but now I wanted nothing to do with his gravelly voice or incredible pheromones. I swiftly moved away from him—and his Christmas-scented deodorant. “So…what’s going on with my account?”

  It didn’t matter where I went, he followed, staying close behind me. After I relented and faced him, he regarded me with such a pained expression I couldn’t look away. His brows were knitted together. They weren’t pinched tight in aggression, but strained with an edge of devastation. The shallow lines above the bridge of his nose mimicked the tiny fractures in my heart caused by the wreckage in his eyes.

  “There isn’t a problem. I just wanted to get you alone for a minute…and get away from Barbie up front.” Ignoring my rigid posture, he eliminated the gap between our bodies and held me firmly against him. His hands wrapped around my hips, his fingers digging into the tender spots of my lower back. “I feel like it’s been forever since I last touched you, and I can’t keep my hands to myself—don’t wanna keep them to myself.” Whispered pleas filled my ear while his scorching breath curled across my bare shoulder.

  Using every ounce of strength I had left—which wasn’t much after my vigorous workout and the effects his proximity had on me—I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away a few steps.

  “Listen, Carter…I know I’m young, and sometimes I can be naïve, but I’m not the kind of girl who will fall at your feet because you say something sweet. You have good lines, and I’m sure they work on a lot of people, but they won’t work on me. I believe in showing, not telling. Actions speak louder than words, and the way you treat me contradicts the things you say.”

  “I don’t understand. I’ve barely seen you, so how can you say that?”

  “We’ve ‘known’ each other for two weeks.” I animatedly curled my fingers when I said “known,” because really, we still didn’t know each other, and I wanted him to understand I’d recognized that fact. “And out of that, we’ve only been talking for one week.”

  “Exactly. So how can you say anything about my actions?”

  I exhaled, letting my shoulders fall in exasperation. My chin tilted down, which afforded me a perfect view of his sneakers. If he wore socks, I couldn’t see them. But there was something unbelievably attractive about a man’s legs when he’s wearing tennis shoes—the way their sculpted calves tapered to their ankles and ended in sporty sneakers. But with Carter, he had ink trailing down his leg from beneath his basketball shorts. Anytime I saw him at the gym, even when he didn’t pay me any attention, I’d stare at his tattoos and envision the parts I couldn’t see. I never could see higher than his knee, other than when I stalked his underwear ads. The bulges in his thigh beneath ink-covered skin gave me lots to imagine when lying in bed at night.

  “Kara…” His voice cut through the silence in the room, and the movement of his feet broke the spell I’d been in.

  I glanced up and shook my head. The inability to form words probably had something to do with the jumbled mess inside my head, the forgotten point I was about to make. The way he regarded me, the vulnerable irritation in his eyes, the way his mouth thinned within the thickness of his facial hair while he pressed his lips together…it all set a dense fog in my brain. But then he came closer to me, and I suddenly remembered what I was about to say.

  “I’ve been to the gym a few times, and it’s like you can’t take two seconds to speak to me. Like you have no interest in me at all. Then you call or text and make me believe you are interested. But, Carter, you’ve been back in town for two days, and I haven’t heard from you once. I came in this morning thinking maybe if you saw me, you’d act differently, but you didn’t. Instead, I had to watch some bikini model practically fondle you at the front desk.”

  With each word I spoke, I watched him back away inch by inch. It was as if listening to me made him reinforce his armor and lock the gates to keep me out. And by the time I finished speaking, he had the guards front and center, ready for battle. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his brows lowered. His gaze—reminding me moments ago of an open field in the spring—darkened to a forest at midnight, barring him inside his fortress for safety.

  “I told you I’m a busy person, Kara. I don’t have time for relationships. I was up front and honest with you about this from the very beginning. I was gone for two days, and when I came back, I had a stack of shit to deal with. I was here all day yesterday—from six in the morning until almost eleven last night—trying to catch up on work for the expansion. I’m one person. I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “It takes two seconds to send a text message or say hello.” My tone surprised me. Inside, I was angry, shaking with the need to fight back and disprove his arguments. But the tone surrounding my words resembled a woman in control.

  “This is why I don’t date…” he muttered under his breath while he ran his fingers through his hair. His focus was on the floor, as if he struggled with how to continue this conversation. “I thought if I was honest with you about that, it’d be easier. But apparently, I was wrong.”

  “I’m all for having fun this summer, Carter. That’s not what this is about.” My control began to wane, so I clenched my hands into fists at my sides and took a healthy dose of air to calm back down. “Trust me, I understand—I’m only here for a couple months anyway. I’ll be the first to admit it’s a bad idea to start something we can’t continue. I agree with that. I don’t want all your attention. You seem to be a very busy man, and I don’t have any right to guilt you into giving me more time than you have to spare. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with going days without hearing from you, only to walk in the gym and find you cuddled up with some leggy bombshell I can’t compete with.”

  His head snapped back, his eyes wide open. “There’s no competition.”

  “Regardless, it still hurts. It makes me feel like you’re keeping me around for the nights you get lonely and want someone to talk to. I’ve already slept with you, so if that was all you were interested in, there’s no point in keeping this going.”

  The fight he had coiled in his shoulders lessened. His posture eased some as he took one step in my direction, still leaving a decent gap between us. “Listen, I’m not used to this. When I’m interested in someone, they usually feel the same way. They understand what it is I do for a living, and they accept what little time I can offer them. I’ve never had anyone complain about it before—at least, not to my face. The few times I’ve hung out with needy women, I end it before it even begins.”

  Needy.

  “I am not a needy woman.” I raised my voice somewhere between a stern tone and a shout, spacing each word out to get my point across. Not giving him time to interject, I continued. “Not wanting to be at your beck and call doesn’t make me desperate or needy. It simply means I believe I deserve more. I completely understand how busy you are with traveling and this expansion. But if you’re too busy to send a quick text saying hi, or take two seconds of your precious time to stop by the machine I’m working out on to let me know you’re happy to see me, then I don’t care to waste my time with you. I’m here watching my nephew, not spending my summer finding a place to live or spending time with my friends. Trust me, waiting around for your calls or begging for a moment of your attention is not on my list of things to do.”

  I sidestepped him, moving around his perfect body to reach the door. But before I got there, he wrapped his thick arm around my waist like a python
ready to strike. He pulled me back against a hard wall of defined muscles, nearly knocking the air from me.

  A wave of blistering air rushed over my neck. The stubble on his cheek prickled the sensitive skin on my shoulder moments before guttural words filtered into my ear. “Don’t walk out that door.”

  I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe, yet somehow, I managed to whisper, “Why not?” All at once, he pulled his arm away, spun me to face him, and backed me against the door with his hands on my hips. In one fast-paced move, he had me barricaded between a solid slab of wood and a solid wall of man. My eyes widened at his proximity and the utter desperation lining his features.

  “There’s a lot of misinterpretation between us. If you wanna walk away, that’s fine. I can’t stop you. But I think we should at least try to understand each other before you make that decision.” He used one finger to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and then softly caressed my jaw while staring deep into my eyes. “I’m very much interested in you, so please don’t mistake my absence as anything other than me being busy. If you walk out that door, just know this: I may not’ve called or texted you every time you crossed my mind, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you. You were all I thought about while I was away. It took so long yesterday to catch up on shit I’ve missed because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “I just don’t know why you can’t show that to me.”

  “I don’t know how.” His exhale plumed between us, and then he released me. He took a step back and ran his hand over his face, as if his vulnerability couldn’t be hidden and he didn’t want me to witness it.

  “You don’t know how to send a text?” I asked out of shock, although it came out slightly condescending. To make up for it before he lost his patience, I added, “I don’t feel it’s a lot to ask for. I’m not looking for you to blow my phone up, but just something to let me know I’m not sitting around waiting for you to make time for me. I want to get to know you, and it’d be nice to feel you thought the same about me.”

 

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