Disgust fills his face as he shakes his head. “You know what? You might be right about that, maybe you don’t deserve her after all.”
With that, Noah walks out of the gym leaving me alone to stew in my thoughts.
42
CARTER
For the past few weeks, I’ve been camped out at the football house and living on the couch in the living room. And yeah, it’s gross as hell. I spend a lot of time trying not to think about the body fluids embedded in the material.
If I’m lucky, I can catch a solid four hours of sleep at night. I didn’t admit it to Noah, but this shit is getting old. I miss my bed. I miss having Daisy wrapped in my arms. It’s the best damn feeling in the world.
This place is worse than a frat house. There are six guys who live here, but I swear there’s at least quadruple that coming and going at all hours. We’re in the middle of the season and these guys are cracking open cold ones every damn night of the week.
Sure, I’ll have a few on the weekends but I’m not one to get shitfaced. Being out of control leaves a bad taste in my mouth. If I need to blow off steam, I’d much rather find a willing female to fuck.
At least, that was my MO in the past.
Daisy and I might not be together but touching another girl feels like cheating.
Last night, I woke up to some random chick straddling my waist. Naked. Which is so not cool. Just because I’ve got a penis, doesn’tmean I don’t get to choose when I use it. This isn’t a damn carnival ride you can hop on and off of.
Alright...Maybe it was in the past, but not anymore.
Now it’s more like a monastery.
A sharp rap on the front door knocks me from my thoughts. Most people don’t bother with such formality. They throw open the door and saunter in. So right there, I’m curious as to who it could be. Owen must feel the same because his brows jerk together as he lumbers into the entryway.
He opens the door and his deep voice rumbles out. “Can I help you?”
There’s a pause.
“I certainly hope so.”
The moment I hear her voice, I shoot off the couch and fly to the door.
Shit.
I wrap my fingers around the wood and yank it all the way open. “Hi.”
Marnie Walker’s eyes soften when she sees me. If I was expecting anger or disgust, there is none. She takes a moment, allowing her gaze to run over my length as if cataloguing that everything is the way it should be.
Owen narrows his eyes, taking in her blue scrubs as he points a beefy finger in her direction. “You’re not from the health department, are you?”
Marnie peers around him until she can look inside the house. Whatever she sees is enough to draw a firm conclusion. “No. But I can understand why you might be worried.”
I jab my elbow into Owen’s side although it’s doubtful he feels anything. Owen is a big motherfucker. He’s muscle on top of muscle, on top of even more muscle. Think King Kong swatting at one of those pesky planes.
That’s Owen in a nutshell.
“Dude,” I roll my eyes. “This is Marnie Walker, Noah’s Mom.”
His stance visibly relaxes. “Oh, right.” He scratches his chin as asmile spreads across his face. “Sorry, Mrs. W. The scrubs threw me for a moment.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says easily. “Happens all the time.”
“Ahhh, are you looking for Noah?” Owen’s brow furrows. “’Cause he’s not here.”
“No, I’m actually here to speak with Carter.” She clears her throat as her gaze falls on me. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
