“Don’t callmethat.”
“Carter does,” he says, the look in his eyes daring me to tell him Carter is different.
“Fine. Tell me this insightful theory about us ‘fucking,’ or I’m going to get some work done. It’s only a couple more hours until we land in Seoul.”
“You really take the fun out of things, you know?” Nash asks on a pout.
“I’ve been told.”
“Fine, well, I think you two kids are fucking”—he gives me that shit-eating grin he wears so well—“but you’re not on the same page.”
“Wow, quite a theory,” I deadpan, regretting letting myself get pulled into this conversation with Nash.
“I’m not done yet,” he says. “I think Carter is ready to put a ring on it and start having your babies, but you’re a big fan of your ice queen façade, so you pushed him away. Now, his little heart is broken, so he’s gone intoturtle-protection mode.” He leans back with a smug smile like he just solved nuclear fission.
Well, this was a waste of time. I don’t have an ice queen façade. And Carter doesn’t want to have my babies—or for me to have his.Fucking Nash.
“Interesting theory,” I say. “Just a few follow-up questions. You know females have babies, right? Not men? Two, how did you make it this far in life? And, finally, what the fuck is turtle-protection mode?”
“I see you’re not disputing the accuracy of any pieces of it.”
“Oh, I certainly am.”
He holds up a finger. “One, yes. I’m just not sure who wears the pants in your relationship, so I figured I’d play it safe and assume you. Two”—another finger goes up—“I’m awesome.” He lifts his third finger. “And finally, turtle-protection mode is pretty self-explanatory. You go into your shell to keep yourself safe.”
“You’re an idiot.”
His smile falters, his face transforming into something serious. “Maybe, Kels, but I’ve known Carter since he started with Mitchell, and it’s his go-to move. When he disagrees with something Trent is doing or when he gets bad news about his mom, he shuts down and avoids everyone. You don’t have to confirm you two are together, though it’s obvious to everyone who knows Carter. But if I were you, I’d figure out what I did to make him feel scared.”
“Oh, please,” I say. “Carter isn’t scared of anything. He’s been that way his whole life. He just doesn’t talk to people he doesn’t like. I respect that about him.”
Nash shrugs, but his serious expression remains. “I don’t think that’s it. I think you put up your normal walls, and Carter took it as rejection. Let’s say, just hypothetically of course, that you two were hanging out in a non-platonic way. He instigated you two ‘hanging out’—and by hanging out I mean fucking, by the way—the first few times. Then you probably turned him down for a work call or to go on a run or something like that. He takes it as you not being interested, so he decides to be the bigger person and give you the space you so clearly want. Except, you don’t actually want the space—as evidenced by the fact that you keep looking at the man instead of paying attention to me, even now, when I’m dropping real important knowledge on you.”
His words hang in the air between us, and I feel a knot twist in my stomach. I glance over at Carter, who is still seated across the aisle, his eyes locked on his phone screen. Is he giving me space because it’s what he wants? Or is it what he thinks I want?
“You’re reading too much into things,” I say, forcing myself to sound dismissive, even as I wonder how right he might be.
Nash gives me a knowing look. “I’m not, Kels, but hey, it’s all hypothetical anyway, right?”
“Right, totally hypothetical,” I say with a nod.
We both go back to our devices, my focus only partly on the emails I’m reading through from my team. Jaxon is in Seoul for one show tomorrow before we head to Singapore and then down to Australia.
By the time the airplane touches down in South Korea two hours later, Nash’s comment has me fully in my head. Ididinstigate things that first morning, but I have let Carter take the lead from there. It’s not that I haven’t been interested, it’s just that I’ve been unable tofigure out how often is too often to be sleeping with my rival. Is that what caused him to turtle?
Only one way to find out, I suppose.
***
“Hey, Carter,” I say as he walks into the hotel lobby that night after having a meeting with his team of CPOs.
He stops in front of me, his dark eyes intense as they scan me from head to foot.
“Hey,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “Did we have a meeting I’m late for?”
I shake my head, offering him a tight smile. “Nope, just…wanted to see if you want to grab dinner.”
“Dinner?” he asks, his eyes soft but searching.
