He was being nice.
Fallon
Nice is holding the door open for you. What he did today is flirting.
Wendy
Nah. Anyway, gotta go! Good night.
Fallon
IT’S 6 p.m.!!!
I lock my phone and slide it into my back pocket. Fallon will ask too many questions and see right through my answers. Avoiding her isn’t completely possible, not with everything going on, but for the rest of the summer, I just want to enjoy Carter. I want to continue to see him without any expectations from anyone, not even us.
When I push through the door, Carter’s sitting on the balcony with his feet up. His phone is face down on the table beside him. The sunset behind him is pink and orange, and he looks like artwork against it.
“Hope cabernet is okay,” I say, holding up the bottle, joining him outside. “Josie’s contribution. This is one of my favorites.”
“Opus One. Expensive tastes.”
“I prefer sophisticated.” I use the corkscrew and open it. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion.”
He takes the two plastic cups, and I pour them full. Our fingers brush as he hands me one.
“This qualifies?” he asks. His blue eyes sparkle as they lock on mine.
I tap my cup against his and sit in the chair beside him. “Absolutely.”
The first sip is sweet and woody. It reminds me of the first time I ever visited California. Vineyards were in every direction.
Carter watches me over his cup.
“What?” I ask.
“Where did you go just now?” he asks.
I exhale. “To Napa Valley. It’s one of my favorite places in the world.”
“Really?” He’s staring, almost as if he’s trying to read my thoughts. “You’re a connoisseur.”
This makes me chuckle. “Only in my mind.”
He leans forward in his chair, and his thumb drags across my bottom lip. My pulse stutters, and I let myself enjoy the exhilaration of what we’re doing.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“Just trying to keep you here with me.”
“In the moment,” I say.
“Yeah.”
My lips tingle where he touched. I take another sip of wine and stare out at the water. This morning, his mouth was between my thighs, and now we’re making out on the balcony.
Right on time, a delivery guy on a bike rolls up and parks at the rack. A minute later, the door opens downstairs. Carter goes downstairs and quickly returns with a bag from Iggy’s that smells so good that my mouth waters. A cinnamon roll and coffee weren’t enough food today.
He unpacks everything and hands me plasticware. I grab my salmon Caesar with extra croutons and a croissant on the side. The mahi tacos look great. Carter pops the top off a container of guacamole with chips, then sets the two slices of strawberry cheesecake to the side.
