The heat in his eyes causes me to gulp. “I-I’ll try.” I hate when I stammer. I used to do it when I was younger and got nervous. Thankfully, I got over it. For the most part anyway.
He strokes his finger up and down my hand. “I know you’re nervous now. You only stammer when you are.”
My heart leaps in my chest as he proves again that he’s been watching me. “I’m trying not to be, but you make me nervous.” My gaze falls to where his fingers are stroking my hand.
“Is it because I’m touching you?”
“Yeah… It’s not a bad thing. It just feels good and new and that makes me nervous.” And because it’s you and I’ve wanted you for a long time. But I keep that part to myself.
He nods, as if understanding. “Well, maybe the more I do it, the less nervous you’ll be.”
That comment makes me wonder how much time he plans on spending with me. Just tonight and at the party? Longer? Carter isn’t a long-term relationship sort of guy, at least the Carter I knew. What if he’s different, though? What if he…
All thoughts evacuate my mind as he dips his head and steals another kiss, letting his lips linger on my mouth. My hands instinctively travel toward his shoulders and I grip on for dear life.
He groans, pulling back slightly. “As much as I love where this is heading, I think I need to stop.” Sucking in a breath, he pulls back and looks me. “For now, anyway.”
My heart nearly ninja flips out of my throat. I tell myself my reaction is from my nerves, but deep down I think I’m excited. The reaction feels wrong but at the same time right. I’m seriously so conflicted and confused.
A genuine smile graces his lips. “I’m going to go check my phone while you get dressed. I promise I won’t look, even though I really want to.” He dazzles me with a grin and a wink before collecting his boots from the ground and heading toward the driver’s side of the car.
Before he climbs in, he pauses. “And Ens, even if your dad has a whole other family and he’s good to them, he’s still a shitty father since he’s your father and he should’ve been there for you. You shouldn’t forgive him easily.”
“Well, he’d have to apologize for that to ever happen. And I doubt it ever will.”
“You never know.” With that, he climbs into the car, lowers his head, and gives me a thumbs-up.
Releasing a loud breath, I peel off the plaid shirt and wiggle into the dress while my mind races. I want to feel good about what happened, about the words we shared and the kiss. After everything that’s happened, I should feel good.
So then, why do I feel so shitty?
Because, if Carter is telling the truth, I’m the shitty person now. That’s why.
I’m the liar. I’m the bad person. I’m everything I thought Carter was.
Maybe even worse.
21
Carter
I can’t believe what just happened, that I told Ens the truth. I’ve never told anyone how my mom forced me to make new friends. Not even El or Holden know about it. But Ens needed to know the truth. She needed to understand that not everything is what it seems.
And that kiss … That kiss was everything.
All those girls I've been with, they never meant anything to me. I was playing a part. Doing what I was told to do. But Ensley means something to me. I don't know how that's possible. We've only been on one date for hell's sake. No, not even that. We've been on like half of a date. But, then again, I spent so much time watching her… Maybe I was starting to feel something before all of this. Could that be possible? To fall for someone before you even have them?
One thing’s for sure, I’m starting to wonder if, for the first time in my life, I’m not playing a game.
I check my messages while I wait for Ens, and frown when I realize my mom has messaged me several times.
Mom: I heard a terrible rumor tonight. That you’re on a date with that Ensley girl Elodie sometimes hangs out with. Please tell me the rumor was false and you’re not that stupid.
Her words make my jaw tick.
Me: Who I date is none of your damn business.
Mom: It is when they’re trash. Seriously, Carter, have you lost your damn mind? You can’t date a girl like Ensley. She’s beneath us.
My blood boils.
Me: Don’t ever call Ensley trash again. And she’s not beneath us. She’s better than all of us.
Mom: Do you have any idea what people will think if you end up dating our cleaning lady’s maid? We’d be shamed by all our friends.
Me: If your friends are gonna shame you because your son’s dating a girl that comes from a lower income family, then maybe you need to reevaluate who your friends are.
Deep down, I know my words won’t affect her. My mother is a straight up snob who only cares about appearances and money. If she did care about other things, she would’ve taken El and me and left my abusive father a long time ago.
Mom: I worked hard to get us where we are today, and I won't let you ruin it for us. If we lose our friends, then dad loses a lot of clients. And since you’re supposed to be taking over the business, it means you'll lose clients as well.
Me: You know I don’t care about the business. I’m only doing it because you’re forcing me to. But maybe it’s time to change that.
Mom: Don't you threaten me. If you so much as try to back out of taking over the business, I'll make your life, and your sister's a living hell. I'll take away both of your tuitions and trust funds. I'll take away everything you own and kick you out of the streets. Is that what you want? For your sister to have to struggle for the rest of her life?
This isn't the first time she's threatened me with this, and I hate that she knows my weak spot.
Me: You know I don’t.
Mom: Good. Then dump the trash and come home so we can clean up this rumor.
I grind my teeth until my jaw aches.
I freaking hate this.
I hate her.
I hate my life.
What the hell do I do?
Swallow hard, I crack the window. “Hey, Ens? You dressed yet?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” she calls out.
Exhaling shakily, I open the door and climb out, having no clue what I’m going to do. While I’ve liked Ensley for a long time and this night has been amazing, I don’t think I can ruin my sister’s life just so I can keep dating Ensley.
But it becomes a bit complicated when I catch sight of her.
She’s standing in the headlights with her dress, knee-high socks, and boots back on. Her hair is damp and hangs across her shoulders in waves. Not a drop of makeup touches her face, showing her freckles.
I take back what I said earlier.
She’s not pretty.
She’s not sexy.
She’s beautiful.
I want to kiss her so damn badly.
Dammit, I’m so screwed.
Still checking her out, I take a step toward her. “I think my watch fell off somewhere. Do you want to get in the car and lock the doors while I go look for it?” That way I can take a breather, try to clear my head, and figure out what I’m going to do.
She gives me a funny look. “Lock the doors?”
I shake my head, closing the distance between us. “Do you know how many horror stories start with a guy and a girl alone by a lake? Then the guy leaves the girl for just a few minutes to either get gas or take a piss or something, and when he comes back, the girl’s gone. Plus, considering how our town is…”
She nods before I can finish, tensing, her eyes scanning the field around us. “Okay, I was only a little creeped out before, but now I fully am.” Her eyes land back on me, and she juts out her bottom lip. “Thanks for that.”
God, she’s so adorable. I can’t stand it.
“I’ll hurry,” I promise her. Then, unable to stop myself, I lean in and kiss her, partly out of desire and partly out of desperation that all of this is going to end before we even get a chance to really start it.
I
mean to keep the kiss brief, but when my heart races like a goddamn lunatic from the connection, I seriously lose my mind. Suddenly, I’m backing her up against the car while crushing my lips against hers. My hands are traveling all over her body, along her sides, before residing on her hips. My fingers dip downward, and then I lift her up onto the hood of my car.
When she gasps against my mouth, I pull back, worried I’ve pushed her too far.
She stares up at me, her eyes wide, her chest moving frantically up and down with each ravenous breath she takes. Her lips are swollen from the intense kiss, and her eyes are glazed over with desire. I’ve wanted to see that look in her eyes since sophomore year when I started becoming obsessed with her.
God, she’s so beautiful.
The things I wish I could do to her…
But when she nervously wets her lips with her tongue, I’m reminded how inexperienced she is, and how I think I may have given her her first kiss just moments ago.
I need to keep this strictly kissing.
God, there’s another first.
I swallow hard. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.”
She hesitates, her dazed eyes flicking to my lips. “It’s fine.”
“I’m just going to kiss you,” I promise, lining my body over hers and pressing my lips to hers again.
She groans, her body arching into mine as she wraps her legs around my waist.
Dammit, my self-control is being tested.
I need to stop.
I can’t seem to get control over my body, though.
I kiss her deeply, tangling my tongue with hers. I bite on her bottom lip while gripping her waist, trying to stay in control. Trying not to lose it. But when she grinds her hips against mine, I damn near explode.
I pull back, gasping for air, before I end up ripping off her clothes.
She blinks up at me dazedly. “Is everything okay?”
I sketch a path down her cheek with my fingertip. “Yeah, I just need to cool off for a few minutes.”
She frowns, perplexed, but doesn’t say anything.
I thread my fingers through hers and help her to her feet. Then I steal one last kiss before backing away.
“I’m going to go find my watch. I’ll be right back. Get in the car and lock the doors,” I tell her, then hurry toward the path before I do something stupid.
After hiking down the path for about a minute, I sink to my knees and curse the damn sky.
All these years of living with my father, all the violence, all the yelling, all the brainwashing, and the controlling, it feels like it’s never going to end.
Will I always be controlled?
Will I ever have the life I want?
I almost felt it tonight.
The possibility of something more.
When I kissed Ensley.
That was real.
One of the most real things I've ever had.
At least I thought it was. But then I get another text message from my mom, and I realize how stupid I’ve been.
Mom: Hopefully, this will help you make the right choice.
Attached to the message is a screenshot of a text thread between Elodie and Ensley, and in it, they're plotting some sort of revenge plan against me.
My heart drops in my chest. The only reason Ensley is dating me is because Elodie and her want to set me up and break my heart.
I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing, and try to convince myself that my mom is lying, that somehow she created the screenshot. But in one of the messages, Elodie uses that stupid little BFFFB thing.
My heart tightens in my chest, like it’s about to break, which is stupid. I barely know Ensley. I shouldn’t care that much.
But I do care, more than I realized.
I thought it was real.
But it was just a lie.
Everything is a lie.
And this is why I don’t trust anyone.
22
Ensley
I do what Carter says and climb into the car, locking the doors. Then I sit, feeling on edge as I wait for him to return. My eyes keep drifting to the dark field and to the road behind the car. Every shadow creeps me out. Every noise makes me jump, and I can't help thinking of all those girls that have been disappearing lately.
Dammit, Carter, thanks for freaking me out.
Still, it was kind of sweet that he was worried about me.
I just wish I wasn’t so scared right now.
To try to chill the hell out, I attempt to focus on something else. My mind zooms right to that kiss we shared on the hood of the car. Or, well, I guess it was more than a kiss since I nearly dry humped him. And then he pulled away.
I frown. Why did he pull away? It doesn’t make any sense. That’s not what Carter does. I’ve seen him kiss many girls and take them up to his room. He has a fuck-chest, for God’s sake. And yet, he pulls away from me while we’re kissing?
My frown deepens. Maybe I did something weird.
Why do I care so much? This is supposed to be a game, right?
The truth is, I’m not so sure anymore. I’m not sure I was ever really sure. After watching him for all those years and fantasizing about him, I think deep down I’ve always wanted to kiss him. I just never thought it’d happen. Just like I never thought Carter could be a good guy. But maybe I’ve been wrong this entire time. I mean, I never would’ve guessed that he was into photography. Or that he helped my mom carry her stuff inside the house when she’s working. Or that he watches me and takes photos of me, which might seem kind of weird, but honestly, I like that he’s been watching me like I watch him. It makes me feel like we’re both equally as weird and maybe kind of perfect for each other. Weirdly perfectly for each other.
God, I’m going back to la, la, la, dreamyland again… I think I need to kick my ass.
My phone suddenly buzzes, and I nearly leap out of my skin.
Shaking my head at my spastic behavior, I check the incoming message.
El: So, how's the big date going? Did he kiss you yet?
If only she knew.
Me: I thought we decided I wouldn’t kiss him.
El: No, I told you to do whatever you wanted. And my gut instinct is telling me you want to kiss him. My gut instinct is also telling me he kissed you already.
I chew on my bottom lip as I type a reply.
Me: How did you know that?
El: Ha! I didn’t, but now I do. Don’t tell me the deets, though, because ew, gross. Just tell me you liked it.
Me: I thought I wasn't supposed to like it. That I'm supposed to be playing him so I can crush his heart, remember? It was your plan.
El: Yeah, maybe.
Me: What do you mean, yeah maybe? You’re the one who started this!
El: Yeah, but I think I'm going to end it. It was probably a bad idea since you like Carter, and he likes you.
Normally, I’d argue, but after tonight …
Me: How do you know he likes me?
As I wait for her to respond, the driver’s door swings open, startling me.
“Hey,” I start to smile at Carter as he climbs in, but my smile fades when I catch sight of the cold look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
He gives an indifferent shrug as he slams the door. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”
I get a very unsettling feeling something terrible's about to happen. "You look upset."
He starts up the engine then buckles his seatbelt. “Maybe I am.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to say or do, my social awkwardness taking over.
I quietly put on my seatbelt as he backs up and steers onto the main road, heading toward town. After a few minutes of silence tick by, I decide to attempt to break the silence.
“So where are we going next?” I ask.
He shakes his head, seeming annoyed. “I’m taking you home.”
Wait… What? “But I thought we were going someplace else.”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.” H
e won’t even look at me.
I swallow hard, tears threatening to pour out, but I suck them back and remain silent for most of the drive home, wondering why he suddenly seems irritated with me. Or maybe he's not irritated. Perhaps he just realized I'm a freak.
Freak.
Freak.
Freak.
You’re a freak.
Neither of us speaks for the rest of the drive, and by the time he’s pulling up to my apartment, I’m more than ready to get out of the car.
Once he’s parked, I push the door open and hurry to climb out.
“Hey Ens,” Carter says as I’m moving to shut the door.
I pause then lower my head to look at him. “Yeah?’
He leans over the console with an icy look in his eyes. “The next time you try to play someone, you should avoid texting about all of the details of your plan, because you never know who might end up reading them.”
Oh my God. He knows about El and mine’s plan.
“I don’t… I’m…” I struggle for the right words to say to him, feeling awful, and stupidly just end up sputtering, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t really care,” he mumbles, straightening in the seat. “None of this probably matters anyway.” He gives a short pause, clutching the wheel. “Can you shut the door, so I can go?”
Swallowing hard, I nod and shut the door. Then he backs away, peeling out from the parking lot and driving away into the night.
As tears sting my eyes, I hurry up to my apartment.
I’m a terrible person.
I really am.
I never should’ve agreed to do this.
By the time I reach the door, tears veil my vision. I attempt to suck them back, knowing my mom will worry if she sees me crying. But I can’t get the dang waterworks to stop, so I try to sneak in, slipping inside the apartment as soundlessly as I can.
“I don’t want to tell her,” my mom is saying from in the kitchen.
I tiptoe through the living room and peer inside. She’s sitting at the table with her back to me and is talking on the phone.
I start to back away when something she says makes me pause.
The Unexpcted Complications of Revenge Page 14