by Leddy Harper
“Go ahead. Laugh at me all you want. But I wasn’t the one screaming like a little bitch. That was the pilot. It completely shattered the image I had of the profession, and I wasn’t about to become something I viewed as weak.”
When I finally caught my breath enough to speak, I wiped beneath my eyes and reclined back into the sofa. “Let me get this straight. You decided you didn’t want to be a pilot, not because you thought you were about to die in an airplane, but because the pilot screamed?”
“Yes.”
“And that made you think pilots were weak?”
“Correct.” His face remained stoic, though amusement danced in his eyes.
“So you decided to open a gym…because that’s as opposite of weak as you can get?”
The slow curl of his mouth caught my attention, and every ounce of humor running through me vanished into a pool of desire. “No, because I wanted a place to work out with my friends. All the other facilities in the area were chains, which may be fine for some people, but not for me. They don’t take care of their equipment properly, and after a year, they’re kinda run down. After five years, you’re lucky if the place gets cleaned thoroughly. I don’t agree with the mentality to put one up on every corner, pay the employees squat, and do the bare minimum in the name of profit. I wanted a place where you could come in after ten years and it still operates like it did on its first day.”
The pride in his voice piqued my interest. This wasn’t some meathead who only cared about appearances, despite the fact he was a model and had a body carved by the devil himself. He didn’t do things half-assed and he took pleasure in what was his. I truly admired that.
It was just one more facet in his ever-growing dimensions.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” he said as he stood up from the recliner.
I pointed down the hall and told him which door. In a complete act of surprise—I think it shocked him, as well—he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before leaving the room. I hadn’t expected it, considering that was more of an act for lovers…not friends with benefits.
While he was in the other room, I tended to Logan, who was still asleep on the couch. I checked to make sure he wasn’t growing restless—a sure sign he was on the verge of waking up—and began to clean up the mess he’d made before his nap. Half-eaten crackers sat in a bowl, crumbs littered the coffee table, and a cup of juice lay on the floor next to him.
Carter came back and found me in the kitchen, putting away Logan’s snacks. On his way toward me, he stopped to observe the pictures Danni displayed in matching frames on the wall just outside the bar area. He pointed to one and turned toward me.
“You and your brother look just alike.”
“Gee, thanks. That’s what every girl wants to hear. And trust me, I’ve heard it my whole life.” When he regarded me curiously, I figured an explanation was needed. Not too many people understood the insult. “That either means my brother looks feminine, or I look masculine. Either way, it’s not a compliment. And considering Tommy is over six feet and built like a brick house, I’m going to say if we look just alike, that means I look like a man.”
He dismissed me with an eye roll and went back to observing the photos. “Women are too damn literal. I only meant y’all have very similar features. Yours are soft, his are hard, but beneath it all, they’re the same. I look at his picture and see a guy; I look at yours and see a sexy woman I wouldn’t mind stripping naked and burying myself inside for a few hours a day.”
I had to turn my back to him. Even though he spoke without once looking at me, keeping his attention on the pictures in front of him, I couldn’t let him see what his words had done to me. I was pretty sure my skin was blotchy and resembled a bad case of leprosy. Not that I’d ever seen a person with any degree of the disease, but if I had to imagine what it looked like, I pictured me.
“Who’s this with his arms around you?”
I didn’t need to see what photo he referred to. I knew it by heart. Right after I got into town and dropped my bag off in my room, it was the first thing I noticed. It stuck out amongst the rest of the frames. Not that it was singled out, but because it was the only one on the wall capable of shattering my heart.
“That’s…uh…that’s Lo. He grew up with us. I always called Danni my best friend, but really, he was. Well, he was more than that.”
Carter abandoned the printed window into my life, strolled across the room, and stood next to me. He must’ve sensed something was wrong in my tone, because he regarded me with soft, concerned eyes. He swiped the backs of his fingers over my cheek, letting them linger on my chin for a beat.
“Logan is actually named after him. We all grew up together in the same neighborhood. Lo and I were the same age, and Danni two years older. They were close, but not as close as Lo and I were.”
“You don’t talk about him like he was just a friend.” It was a simple observation, one that didn’t really warrant an answer, but I could tell he’d mentioned it with the purpose of spurring me on. A way of seeking personal information without asking the question.
“He was my first love. Danni says we started dating when we were ten, because ever since we met, we were inseparable. We never really made a big deal about our relationship once we got old enough to understand we were in one. It just kind of happened, I guess. I think we were the last two people to figure out we were more than friends.” Thinking of him put a smile on my face while simultaneously digging my heart out of my chest with a spoon.
Carter grabbed me by my hips and settled me on the counter. It was so fast I didn’t have a chance to object or even make a noise. Once he had me situated, he fit himself between my legs and relaxed his hands on my thighs. He studied me, his gaze flicking back and forth between my eyes. “Tell me about him.”
“Why?”
“You seem sad, and I think it’s safe to say you don’t talk about him much. I don’t think he broke your heart, because I can’t imagine your family framing a photo of you two and hanging it on the wall amongst pictures of loved ones. Or naming their son after the boy who hurt you. So talk about it. Tell me about him.”
“He was a very complex person, kept a lot to himself. But with me, he sometimes showed pieces of himself he never showed anyone else. I think that’s why I first fell in love with him. He trusted me with things he didn’t dare offer others. He always had his guard up around everyone. Always kept people at a distance.” I wanted to tell him how much he reminded me of Lo, but I knew it’d be misunderstood after talking about my feelings for my old friend.
“Why?”
My shoulder lifted a few inches, and I took the time to steel my emotions. Carter had been right when he said he didn’t think I talked about Lo. I hardly every spoke of him, even though I thought about him often. “His dad left when he was four, and his mom blamed him for it. She said it was his fault, that he didn’t try hard enough to make his father love him. So I think he suffered from attachment issues. He always used to make comments about me leaving because he wasn’t enough.”
Carter ran his thumb in circles on my bare thigh, just below the hem of my shorts, and it soothed me enough to keep talking.
“When we were thirteen, we realized we were more than friends. I guess after three years he realized I wasn’t going anywhere. But it took two more years of beating on his metaphorical wall with my proverbial hammer before he finally let me all the way in.
“His mom remarried when he was nine, just a year before he moved into our neighborhood. She constantly told him not to fuck this one up, and do everything Harrison told him to do. We started messing around, kissing and petting, when we were like fourteen. One night when we were fifteen, things got pretty intense. Right before we were about to have sex for the first time, he freaked out. He jumped off my bed, grabbed his clothes, and barely got them on before climbing out my window. I had no idea what had happened. He ignored me for three days.”
“What happened?” Carter aske
d, pressing me to move my story along faster.
“No one knew, but his stepdad had…molested him. He’d never told anyone before me, and when I tried to get him to go to the authorities, he refused. He said Harrison had stopped, so it was pointless. But that was the reason he flipped out and ran away.”
Carter’s grip tightened on my thighs. “Did you tell anyone?”
“No.” I shook my head and dipped my chin, shame and regret burning the backs of my eyes. “He made me swear I wouldn’t tell, so I didn’t. I thought my silence proved my loyalty to him. I’ve never told a soul until now.” I looked up at Carter and peered into his accepting gaze. “This is the first time I’ve ever said anything. And it’s taken me ten years.”
“So what happened to him?”
“When we were seventeen, his mom found him hanging from a tree in the back yard.” My sight became unfocused as I zoned out and drifted back to that day. “When he called the night before and said he was sick and wouldn’t be at school the next day, I didn’t think anything about it. But he came over to my house after the bus dropped me off. He said he just wanted to tell me he loved me because he missed saying it to me that morning. Normally, we hung out—just the two of us because Danni was off in college—but he didn’t want to get me sick, so he was going to go back home and sleep. His mom came home from work an hour later and found him.”
“Does anyone know why he did it?”
That was always the first question. It’d been the question on everyone’s tongue back then, and even now, whenever someone would mention Lo or how he’d killed himself, it’s the first thing people want to know. I always told them no one knew. I’d lie and say he never left behind a note or any clue as to why he would’ve taken his own life. But here, with Carter’s comforting hands on me, his trusting eyes locked on mine, the truth slipped free.
“He left me a letter in my mailbox when he came over that day. I was the only one who read it. No one even knows it exists. He told me he loved me, that he was sorry he couldn’t be the person I deserved or needed, but that I’d been more than enough for him. In that letter, he finally told me the truth about Harrison—he never stopped.” A tear slipped past the corner of my eye.
Carter wiped it away. “And you still didn’t tell anyone?”
Shamefully, I shook my head, but I never broke our eye contact. “I kept my mouth shut when I could’ve done something to help him. And by that time, it was too late. It wouldn’t bring him back.”
“No, but at least the fucking pervert would’ve had to face his crimes.”
“I didn’t want Lo to be remembered as the boy who was molested.” I lowered my voice. It was filled with the torment I’d lived with for the last eight years. “I didn’t want people to think about him and imagine the things he went through. I didn’t protect him when he was alive, but I made damn sure I’d do what I could to keep his name in good standing after he was gone. Danni named her son after him, and I’m pretty sure had she known the truth, she never would’ve done that.”
Carter opened his mouth to say something, but his words were cut off by the pitter-patter of little feet approaching behind him. He wiped away another tear, pressed a soft, comforting kiss high on my cheek, and then backed away.
CHAPTER NINE
“I’ll just follow you there.” I grabbed my brother’s car keys from the bowl next to the front door.
Carter stopped in front of me, blocking the exit through the open door. “It’s not a big deal. I can bring you back when you’re ready to leave.”
“That’s silly.” I waved him off, but he wouldn’t move. “Why would I make you drive me all the way back here when I can just drive myself? It’s a waste of time, money, and gas for you to take me to your house, bring me back, and then go back home.”
He grabbed the keys out of my hand, the metal biting into my skin, and tossed them back into the bowl. “Two things you should know about me: I don’t ride shotgun—for anyone—and I don’t allow women to follow behind me when I’m capable of driving them myself.”
The way Carter could be so attentive when need be was such a turn-on. At the same time, when he took control and asserted himself in a situation, I didn’t think he could be any hotter. His commanding presence was enough to make me cross my legs, but when he growled his demands, my panties became unbearably wet.
“Okay then…” I didn’t argue with him, knowing it’d be safer if I just agreed and let him drive all over town to appease his need to feel like a man.
Carter led me outside to his car and opened the passenger-side door for me. It was such a gentlemanly thing to do, and I had to admit, I liked it. I watched him strut around the car before climbing in next to me. There didn’t seem to be a thing he could do that wasn’t sexy as sin.
“Logan had fun tonight,” I said after he cranked the car and pulled out onto the road. “That was really nice of you to take us out. I think you’re his new best friend.”
After Logan woke up from his nap earlier, Carter took us to the park and then to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner. I was a little hesitant to begin with, considering it seemed rather personal to go out like a family when we weren’t one, but Logan wouldn’t let me say no. I thought Carter would leave as soon as we got back. To my surprise, he waited around for Danni to come home and then invited me over to his house for a movie. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what he really had in mind, and I couldn’t wait to finally see his body in the flesh.
“I still can’t believe we took him for Mexican and he ate chicken tenders and fries.” He held his finger up between us. “Although, those were some damn good tenders.”
It warmed me to hear him say we took Logan out, when really, it was all him. And I’m sure he hadn’t realized it or the implication, but I still found myself crumbling like a condemned building at his feet over his sentimentality. As if we were a team, one unit.
As he drove, he linked his fingers with mine in my lap. It was such a normal gesture, to hold hands while in the car, but to me, it was intimate. The way he stroked his thumb over my knuckle sent my neurons into a tailspin. He may not have even realized he was doing it, but it reminded me of watching my dad do the same to my mom during long road trips. And in those moments, I’d watch them and think, “that’s what real love looks like.” Sitting here with Carter, his thumb caressing my skin, took me back to those memories.
And that’s when I knew my lies weren’t working.
“Well, it was still nice of you to include him. You didn’t have to do that.”
He squeezed my hand and gave me a sideways glance, complete with a shadow of his smirk. “It sucks to be young and not have a father around. It’s lonely, especially for a boy. Boys have a special bond with their mothers, but there’s just some things moms can’t do. Things no one else can offer. I’m not his dad, nor am I pretending to be, but the little guy needs a man around every now and then to keep the loneliness away.”
I turned my head toward him, needing to see his face—or at least his profile. His tone was so heavy it filled his words with lead weights and dragged my heart into my stomach. “You sound like you know from personal knowledge.”
“Yeah. My dad was in the military. Active duty. He retired when I was twelve.”
“I had no idea.” I quickly shook my head and spoke again before he had a chance to think about how stupid my comment was. Of course I had no idea. We barely knew each other. But for some reason, I felt like we did. Could’ve been the fact we’d already had sex, he’d managed to get me to talk about Lo, we’d spent a day together with Logan like a family, and now with the way he held my hand like I was more to him than just a friend. Whatever the reason was, I had to remind myself we didn’t know each other. “So you know what it’s like…for Logan.”
“I obviously don’t remember much about being Logan’s age, but when I was seven, eight, nine years old…those times were tough. He’d be gone for a month, come back for a month, leave again. That shit’s hard on a kid.”
I couldn’t help but picture a younger version of the man next to me. In my head, he was a big kid with Crayola marker doodles all over his arm, staring out a window while raindrops cascaded down the panes. I had to blink that thought away…because it was utterly ridiculous.
Carter huffed before continuing with his story. “My dad was in the Air Force, but he worked for traffic control. So technically, he worked under the DEA. He’d go wherever they sent him, whenever they sent him, for however long they needed him. So it kinda seemed like he was never home. When he retired, he was always home, and I don’t think any of us knew how to handle that.”
“Danni is worried because she’d heard between the ages of three and five are the most critical for a little boy to have a man in his life. It’s apparently the most imperative period for their personality and developmental growth. A boy whose father is around and active during those prime years has a higher chance of growing up to be a productive member of society.” I wanted to suck back in every word I’d said, because I’d meant it about Logan, not realizing how it pertained to Carter. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I insinuated he wasn’t a productive member of society.
Instead of finding insult in my words like I assumed he would, he casually flicked on his blinker and made a right turn, wagging his brows at me in amusement. “I’m sure there’s some validity to that. But I also think it depends on the situation. I didn’t have a deadbeat dad; he was a hero. He might not have been around much, but I never felt abandoned. I never felt like he didn’t want to be there. And when he was there, I think he tried his best to make up for the times he wasn’t. Kinda like quality versus quantity.”
I thought back to earlier in the day when he’d mentioned his dad, the hint of a smile, the peace that seemed to come over him. “Are you close with your dad?”
Carter grew quiet for a moment and released my hand. My palm instantly became cold without his touch. I worried I’d said something wrong, but then he blew out a steady sigh and said, “He died ten years ago. But yeah, I guess you could say we were close.”