I order my usual: a kids’ size coffee, fresh fruit, and some eggs. Carter orders a ridiculous amount of eggs and avocado.
As we sip our coffees, waiting for our food to arrive, Jaxon and his assistants Annie and Andre come in, his assistants taking a table in the far back corner of the room. Eddie takes a seat at the table between them and the door. Without thinking, I check the front entrance, ensuring the other two members of their team are in their positions. A month ago, I wouldn’t have any idea where each member of Jaxon’s personal security team should be, but now I think I’ve got it figured out.
“Good morning,” Jaxon says, sliding in the booth next to me while Nash shoves in to sit next to Carter. “Fancy meeting you two here.”
Carter harrumphs something into his coffee that has both Nash and Jaxon chuckling.
“I was promised people would kiss my ass when I became a superstar. Where’s the ass-kissing, Carter?” Jaxon asks.
I laugh this time, and Carter rolls his eyes. “You hired the wrong security firm—hell, the wrong security firms—if you were hoping for ass-kissing.”
“Turns out, I like straight shooters.”
“We might be more equipped for that,” I say.
“Anyway,” Jaxon says, pulling us back to the real reason he joined our table. “I got news from the PR team that the public has been eating up Carter’s statement. They’re also patting themselves on the backfor how well they’ve shut the story down, though I feel I owe you an apology, Kelsey, for not getting them working on it quicker.”
“That’s not their job,” I say, taking another sip of my coffee for something to do with my hands. “I appreciate their help on the cleanup, though. Thank you.”
Jaxon waves away my thanks and nods to Nash, indicating he’s ready to go back to the table. Nash stands, and Jaxon follows, tapping a fist down on our table.
“I should’ve known that you’d defend Kelsey’s honor again, Carter.”
My eyes snap to Carter’s as I take in the wordagain, and I’m quick enough to catch the look of shock that crosses his face before he schools it into neutrality.
Jaxon just walks away, apparently unaware that his parting words have left us both shaken.
“What did he mean,again?” I ask, my throat dry at the thought of Carter having to defend my honor on a regular basis. I can defend my own honor, damn it.
Maybe it was after the first issue with the comms—but no. He didn’t say anything then.
The words hang in the air, unanswered, as I stare at Carter.
“What did he mean,again?” I repeat, my voice rough. My fingers grip the bright white coffee cup tighter, the cool porcelain against my hand doing little to steady me.
Carter’s eyes dart to mine briefly before he looks down at his coffee, swirling it in his cup, his jaw tight. “I—” He pauses, taking a deepbreath, clearly trying to find an answer other than the truth. “I don’t know what he meant, Kels.”
“That’s a lie.” Of course it is. I saw the look on his face. It wasn’t even a good lie, though I’m starting to understand Carter just isn’t a good liar.
I sit back in my seat, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrow. “It obviously can’t be bad if it involves you defending my honor. Most people consider that to be a good thing.”
He presses his lips together, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Who knows why Jaxon says half of what he says. He probably thought it sounded lyrical or some nonsense like that. It doesn’t mean anything.”
I consider letting him off the hook. I trust Carter—even if he’s still my biggest rival—but I just know there’sso much moreto whatever he’s trying to hide from me. Honestly, I even believe Jaxon didn’t mean anything more by it, but somehow, it meant something to Carter, and I want to know what it is.
“Carter,” I say softly, using the same voice I would to convince a small child to show me where they hid stolen cookies. “When have you defended my honor before this?”
Carter goes quiet for a long time, and I wonder if I’m going to have to wait and seduce it from him tonight, but then, finally, his gaze flicks up to meet mine, and I see something—maybe shame—in his eyes before he starts talking.
“This isn’t a big deal, which is why I never told you about it,” he says, his voice low and rough. “But, back in high school, there wasthis one time in the football locker room. And, well, a few guys in our class—Trent, for one—were claiming they’d slept with you.”
I snort. The notion that I slept with any of the guys in our high school class, most of all Trent, is utterly absurd. I thought they were all idiots then, and only Carter seems to have made his way off that list even now.
“Anyway,” he says, running his hand through his dark hair. “They were getting more and more detailed. You know how assholes are—just trying to one-up each other. It got…graphic.”
I blink, stunned into silence for a moment. Those fucking assholes. I wouldn’t touch one of them with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole, let alone let them do graphic things with me.
His voice hardens as he continues, as if the memory still angers him. “It pissed me off. We all fucking knew you wouldn’t sleep with any of them, but I couldn’t let them get away with saying things like that. So I stepped in. Told them to shut the fuck up. Punches may have been thrown.”
