I nod. The painting is one I did while I was still in school, so there’s still a lot wrong with it, at least in my eyes, but Miles and Anna love it, so I’d never ask them to take it down. It’s an overhead view of the girls sitting at the beach, waves lapping over their legs. Their faces are tilted up toward the sun, so you can just make out their wide smiles and see the freckles dotting their cheeks.
“When I first saw it, I thought it was aphotograph.” Carter looks toward the living room, but the painting isn’t quite visible from here. “But the way the water is moving and the way you can see their laughter—it’s more than what a photograph could do.” He holds my gaze for a moment, but then he quickly looks down. “Sorry. I don’t really know how to talk about art.”
“No, you’re doing a good job,” I say. “You saw exactly what I wanted people to see.”
I have no idea how to explain what’s happening right now. How to catalog the many,manyfeelings rushing through me all at once. Carter is handsome and kind and observant and charming.
He’s also entirely off-limits. Geographically. Relationally.
I can’t be into this man, but it would be so much fun if I could be.
He smiles. “See? Like I said.Extraordinary.”
Across the table, Miles asks Carter a question, and the conversation shifts to other things. Hockey and the game coming up next weekend and the fact that the Vikings likely won’t get a playoff spot this year, despite having won the whole thing last year.
Jordo mentions his wedding in June and how much he really,reallyhopes it doesn’t conflict with the playoffs. And Theo tells a very entertaining story about going on a date with a woman who had all of his hockey stats memorized. Justonedate, though I’m sure it’s one she’ll never forget.
Through it all, my awareness of Carter doesn’t diminish. I find myself paying closer attention to the things he contributes to the conversation, appreciating the way he responds to his teammates, noticing what makes him laugh.
I definitely feel drawn to him, which is afeeling I haven’t experienced in a while. It’s nice to notice if only as a reminder that I’m not entirely broken.
I barely dated at all through college, something my therapist helped me realize has everything to do with childhood. I’m very much into men, I’m just not very good at trusting them. I want to be. I’ve seen the way Miles is with Anna—and he grew up with the same father I did. If he can be better than what we had, it stands to reason I deserve the same.
But wanting to trust and feeling like Icanaren’t exactly the same thing.
Besides, I don’t really havetimeto date. I’m kind of ridiculous about my work. I need to be if I have any hope of building a career significant enough to earn my way into a permanent home in the States.
I need a beat to rein in my unrealistic feelings, so once I finish my plate, I leave the conversation and head into the kitchen where I spend a few minutes cleaning up. After all the noise and the talking and the general hum of activity around me, completing a few mindless tasks proves good for my nervous systemandmy wayward heart, but I could still do with someactualsolitude.
Anna is in the living room with Poppy and some of the other women, and Olive is still with her dad, so I grab a cupcake off a dessert tray on the counter and sneak into the butler’s pantry.
This is definitely the most time I’ve spent in here in one day, but it makes for a perfect escape. It’s quiet, it smells faintly of coffee beans, thanks to the espresso machine in the corner, and best of all,I’m alone.
It helps that the raspberry cupcakes someone brought from the bakery next to the Vortex are next-level delicious.
“Seems like a great place to eat a cupcake.”
I am mid-bite when Carter appears in the pantry doorway, and I jump in surprise, smearing frosting all over the end of my nose.
“Oof. That was my fault, wasn’t it?” Carter says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I wipe the frosting off the top of my lip, then, without a napkin nearby, lick it off my fingertips. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute away from”—I motion a hand toward the house beyond the pantry—“the crowd, I guess.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. I just wanted to—” He pauses and takes a step into the dimly lit pantry. “Sorry, you just…” He lifts a single finger and wipes it over the tip of my nose. “You missed a spot.” He pulls his finger away, looking around like he’s not sure what to do with the frosting, but then, just like I did, he pops his finger into his mouth and sucks it clean. He lets out a little groan. “Man. I need to have one of those cupcakes.”
Oh. Oh, my.I have no idea if he intended this conversation to feel like foreplay, but I suddenly can’t stop thinking about raspberry frosting and what it would taste like on his lips.
I give my head a little shake. “Yeah, they’re pretty good,” I manage to say, my voice sounding unusually breathy.
Luckily, Carter doesn’t seem to notice. Either that, or he’s enough of a gentleman not to point it out.
“So, I’m actually headed out,” he says. “But I wanted to say it was nice to meet you. And I really enjoyed our conversation.”
“Yeah, I did too,” I say, thankful my normal voice has returned.
He holds my gaze for another moment, then he takes a backward step toward the door. “I hope you get the visasituation worked out,” he says. “I can imagine how much your family would miss you.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I hope so too.”
