Carter
Mayfair Model Series
Claire Castle
Copyright © 2019 by Claire Castle
All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author, except for using small quotes for book review quotations. All characters and storylines are the property of the author. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of all products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editing provided by: Lisa Cullinan
Warning: Intended for a mature 18+ audience only. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations.
Created with Vellum
Index of Terms
St. Fallon’s University - fictional university in California
British Boyz - fictional porn studio
Humankind League - fictional LGBT charity
Less is More - fictional fashion campaign
Westingline Academy - fictional air steward/flight attendant school
Queen of Hearts - fictional gay club
For everyone who has risked it all for a
second chance and believes that
dreams do come true
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Claire Castle
Prologue
CARTER
The usual bland and mundane party atmosphere had been turned on its head quite literally after having witnessed the horrifying public meltdown of Marshall’s despicable mum, then seeing Stuart so upset, and now having Jamieson right here in front of me again.
I had never been at one of these society events where there had been so much drama. Who knew that the night would end like that?
Invited by Marshall, I’d arrived at the party expecting another night of fake smiles and polite conversations with people I didn’t really know. Instead, a shit show had erupted. I certainly would have preferred an uneventful night of watching TV to this.
One moment I’d been enjoying drinks and the next all hell broke loose. To see Marshall get treated so terribly, the hateful words that spewed out of her mouth and then have to deal with the fallout of it afterward was extremely hard to witness. At least he had Stuart. Stuart was the perfect match for him.
But when I thought the night couldn’t have turned out any more dramatic, a ghost from my past appeared right in front of me: my past had just epically collided with the present.
1
JAMIESON
So many emotions revolved around like a hamster wheel in my mind after seeing Carter and having him in my life again. I heard his call behind me in the hallway, and it took everything in my power not to turn back to him. His presence was such a shock, and my stomach rolled in waves as I played tug of war with myself.
I walked away while my traitorous dick deceived me by getting hard in my jeans, obviously remembering what it was like to be with him. And what about earlier tonight?—the way he looked when I first set eyes on him: his perfectly styled hair, a tuxedo that fit him like a glove, all paired with magnificent cranberry-coloured wingtip shoes.
Fuck. I bit my lip. Should I stop and talk to him and listen to what he has to say? Or maybe I should bypass any conversation and fuck him roughly instead.
I needed to get some air … or something. Get away. So I decided to go see Damien and took a cab to the club.
I pushed through the crowd and found my friend at the bar. After catching his attention, I ordered four shots and proceeded to down them. How had my night become so fucked up?
Damien came around the bar to sit close to me. “You look like you need to be taken care of, am I right? What happened?”
“Make it stop hurting.” I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I need something but I don’t know what. I’d rather not talk about it now, but I’ll tell you soon. I just … Make me forget again.” My words came out in a jumbled mess.
Clearly Damien had no idea what I was referring to, but he knew what I needed. I let him drag me to his dressing room, where he sat me down. I could hear movement outside and knew there were people all over. At first I thought he was going to fuck me, that he thought that’s what I needed, but it would almost feel like I was cheating on Carter, as stupid as that line of thinking seemed.
Instead, he went to his secret freezer and brought out gourmet ice cream.
My face lit up. “Is that the cappuccino-raspberry kind?”
Handing me a spoon, he sat across from me with his own and said, “Of course it is. Now, spill.”
I guess he was going to hear my story after all. “My best friend, my lover, the only man I’ve ever loved but had tried to forget, h-he’s back. I thought I was over him. I mean, with the amount of guys I’ve been over—and under—since then …” I said, trying to infuse humour into the situation.
“But you still love him?”
“How can I after what he did?”
2
CARTER
My flight from Milan to London had been rather uneventful after another photoshoot for an underwear brand. I loved travelling and modelling, but I’d needed to get back in plenty of time for Marshall’s party. He was such a great guy and when he’d recently reached out to me, I’d felt it was important for me to be a good friend.
I couldn’t care less about the actual party. Finding a hot guy for afterwards, maybe, but these social functions were all the same: fake schmoozing and everyone trying to one-up the other. I was there for Marshall though, that was it.
And then I arrived to find Jamie, my Jamie, well, Jamieson to everyone else. When he’d noticed me, so many emotions had played over his face in slow motion before he settled on the look of having seen a ghost. In some ways, maybe I was to him.
So many times I’d wanted to call him or text or see him, any communication really, but I had been too scared of the reaction I’d get. What I’d done to him before probably hurt too much. I was a coward. I’d locked thoughts of him away, convincing myself that everything seemed to be going okay. Wasn’t it? Now that he was back in my presence, I wanted nothing more than to touch him, to feel him, and to protect him again.
We helped Stuart get to Marshall, and while that was most important, I was really only thinking of Jamie. Maybe that was selfish, but my brain was on its own course it seemed, and as much as I was focused on the events of the evening, seeing him again had been a shock.
I was there for Stuart and told him to be strong for Marshall. Afterwards, w
hen we headed back to the hotel, Jamie came along too, and when he didn’t disagree, I had some hope. I called to him, pleading with my eyes that he’d follow me, but he seemed to have hesitated and then changed his mind.
Well, I tried, but he continued on his way. I couldn’t blame him really. So I trudged up to the hotel room, closed the door, and ended up thinking about the first time I’d ever laid eyes on Jamieson …
My parents had always moved around for my dad’s job. I had hated it because I’d wind up only having friends for a year or two—if I was lucky. It had been pretty tough for me.
When I was in secondary school, one of those particular moves had been to Manchester. It was the weekend and while we’d been busy moving in, I’d noticed a set of eyes watching from a window of the second story of a house across the road. Taking a deep breath, I gave a haphazard wave. Though I couldn’t see his face or hair fully, I knew it was a guy.
Just as I thought about waving again, my mum had come over, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up the driveway and into the new row house. Well, new to us. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was nice enough. I was an only child and would get my own room, so I was always thankful for that.
I went to my room to unpack. Sad to say, I was probably more used to this routine than most adults. My bed was on the floor for now until the frame was delivered. I had left all my track and field trophies and medals boxed up until my dad could put up a shelf.
When I finished unpacking most of my things, I yelled to my mum that I was going to explore and got dressed for a jog. She might have told me when to be back for tea but I hadn’t really listened. I put on my headphones and stretched before getting on my way. I looked up across the road again and even though it was only a silhouette, I knew that guy was there.
Just as I’d been returning from my jog, I noticed someone standing outside our front gate. I took him in from head to toe as I’d gotten closer. He was shorter than me and had blond hair and hazel eyes, with an earring in one ear. I liked it. Even though it was a mild day, he wore black jeans, a shirt, and a leather jacket. He must have been sweltering in all that. Was that the guy from the window? Wow, I’m an idiot. But I still wanted to pat myself on the back for recognizing him.
“Jamieson,” he said, putting his hand out as I approached.
“Carter,” I answered. “You have beautiful eyes,” I blurted, without thinking.
“I know. And thank you.” He chuckled.
“Okay, not egotistical or anything either.”
“Oh, I’m not. Just playful.” He stood up straighter and smirked at me.
“Aren’t you boiling hot?” I clearly had no filter.
“Aren’t you gross and sweaty,” Jamieson shot back.
He’d just me put in my place, I thought as I stood there in the middle of the road, gobsmacked.
We’d become inseparable after that. It just kind of happened. In the first week at the new school, I’d learned that Jamieson was sort of a lone wolf, so I guess we just became two lone wolves or something, together.
I was involved in sports, mainly track and field, and had made friends with the others in the sport. We went to lots of track meets and they were friendly enough, but I’d gotten the impression they thought Jamieson was just a big goof and not worth their time. My teammates were fine to spend time with but we weren’t nearly as close as Jamieson and I were.
Jamieson just got me and my humour ever since that first day.
One day Coach had made us run extra laps around the track right at the end of practice. Jamieson had come inside the gate to the field to look for me. When I glanced over at him, I noticed that he looked lost, so I waved in his direction and tried to make hand motions to indicate that I had one more lap to go.
He moved from foot to foot, looking extremely uncomfortable. I hadn’t fully contemplated why he’d always waited for me at home or sometimes at the car, depending on where we were headed, but after seeing him now, it’d all made sense. I never wanted him to feel out of place.
As I finished, I lifted my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. When I pulled it down, I looked over to catch Jamieson’s eye, only to see someone talking to him.
Without thinking, I stomped over and pushed the guy away. “Hey, he’s here with me. Leave him alone.” I noticed the guy had a school logo on his shirt. Shit.
Jamieson glowered at me, then turned to the other guy. “Ah, Carter, this is the substitute math teacher, Mr. Ziering. Mr. Ziering, Carter Hamilton.”
I acknowledged him but then mumbled that I was going to get changed. Later, I met Jamieson again and pretended nothing had happened. That was the best way to deal with it—or so I thought.
“What was all that about?” he asked, not letting me off the hook so easily. Okay, so much for that plan.
I attempted to explain, “When you’d first gotten here, you looked so uncomfortable. I, ah, thought one of the guys was giving you a hard time. So …” I trailed off.
Jamison turned to look at me, tense with his back straight. “I don’t need your protection. Or if I do, I’ll tell you.”
“Oh, really? How exactly would you tell me if one of those jock guys”—I pointed across the field where some football players were warming up—“pulled you into the locker room and shoved you under a cold shower.” I had noticed that some of the guys tried to harass Jamieson from time to time if they thought I wasn’t looking.
He glanced back at me, biting his lip. His shoulders became less tense, and when he slapped my arm playfully, I hoped there was a thaw in his annoyed demeanour.
“I don’t need to be protected by you,” he repeated. I held my breath. “But thanks, ah, for looking out for me, I guess. That does make sense.” He leaned over to hug me.
As the school months passed, I’d tried my best not to be overly protective.
Remembering the past was overwhelming yet comforting. So many memories flashed before my eyes—memories that had been locked away—for better or for worse, I wasn’t sure. I stretched out, then sat up to make myself more comfy on the pillows and tried to relax.
It had been such a roller coaster evening. I wondered where Jamieson went. All these emotions and recollections were making themselves known whether I liked it or not.
3
JAMIESON
I was moping around my flat after last night’s gong show when Marshall and Stu came in. They looked happy and really were the perfect couple. They’d gone through so much and had made it to a great place; their happiness was well-deserved.
I had completely lost any hope of having that long ago. I didn’t even want it, did I? The way I joked with them about how lovey-dovey they’d become, no one would ever guess I’d had something similar in my past. I’d pushed it so deep into the depths of my mind I’d learned to compartmentalize. They were great memories. But did I want Carter back? The answer in my mind was automatically yes as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise. I shook my head to get rid of that thought.
Stu ran over to me, obviously he’d figured out something was wrong. I hadn’t exactly told them that Carter and I had a past, or even what that past was and how deep it went. Anyway, he had made his position quite clear two years ago, the last time I’d laid eyes on him, and honestly, I never thought I’d see him again.
But I wasn’t going to bring them down with my issues. I was an adult, and they’d just gotten to a perfect place, so they certainly didn’t need me to burden them. Of course I knew Stu would say that I’d been there for him and he’d always be there for me.
I looked over to Marshall and asked him? “Are you doing okay after last night?” I stood up and hugged Stuart first and then Marshall. “That was rough.”
He patted me on the back. “Thanks. It was tough but”—he looked over at Stuart—“I’ll be fine. Really great, actually. If I’m honest, it’s been a long time coming. I just wasn’t brave before.” Pushing his hands into his pants and letting out a sigh, he continued. “We’re gonna hav
e a barbecue next weekend at my place in York. Will you come?” Marshall asked. He gave me a piercing gaze, like he was telling me if I bowed out I’d be off the hook this time, but not forever. “Make a weekend of it. We want to have all our friends there.”
I plastered on a fake smile and turned around. “Yes, thanks for the invite. Uh, just email me the info.”
“Of course, Carter will be coming, and a few others as well. You can all head up together.”
“Carter? Uh, I can make my own way.” I fidgeted, so as to not meet his glance.
“Don’t be silly. His driver will take everyone. Makes the most sense.”
“Right. Okay. Yeah, I have a flight to San Francisco, California, before that, but lucky for you, I’m available. Not for you. For that weekend.” I started blushing, which was ridiculous. Sure, Marshall was hot, but he was Stuart’s man. And I never acted this way around him. He was just a friend. Carter. I’d blame Carter. It had to be him. My mind wandered back to senior year of secondary school when he’d told me about the scholarship he’d gotten in California.
Carter (Mayfair Model Series Book 2) Page 1