Carter goes still. The car feels smaller now, the air too thin to breathe.
“I was drunk,” I say, when he doesn’t respond. “But not so drunk I didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to for…God, I don’t even know how long.”
His eyes stay on me—wide, unblinking—like he can’t believe I’m saying this out loud.
“But I was terrified,” I admit. “Of what it meant. Of what people would think—my parents, my friends…” I shake my head. “Mostly, I was scared of what I’d think of myself.”
I’ve never said any of this out loud before. Not even to Gigi—not really. She pieced it together from half-formed thoughts and clumsy explanations, but I’ve never just laid it all out like this.
“I had this idea of myself—being the masculine jock with a father in the military—” I trail off, only now realizing how ridiculous it sounds. “It was scary to admit that wasn’t all I was.” I swallow. “So after that night atDrip, I freaked out and ran. And then I panicked and started dating Carol.”
Carter is still silent, watching me, waiting for me to finish.
“She’d been flirting with me for months, and I just… I thought if I could make it work with her, then maybe I wasn’t really…” I trail off, still unable to say the word.
“Bi?” Carter says.
I nod, cheeks burning despite the cold. “I didn’t want to be anything other than what I’d always assumed I was.”
Carter shifts but doesn’t respond. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
“But it felt wrong,” I say, my throat tight. “I felt like shit. And Carol figured it out way before I did. She ended things—told me I needed to stop lying to myself.” I glance away, eyes stinging. “But I still wasn’t ready to hear it. So I shut down. Threw myself into work. Avoided everyone. Especially you.”
I pause, trying to gather whatever’s left of my courage.
“Then I met Gigi atLone Star,” I say, pausing for a second. “She’s gay, and she’s really open about it. One night we were working late, and she started talking about her girlfriend—just saying how much she loved her, how happy she was. And I don’t know…something about how easy it was for her made me think maybe I didn’t have to keep fighting it. Like maybe I could start accepting it too.”
The memory of that night comes rushing back—Gigi’s surprised but kind expression when I blurted out that I might be into guys. Well—one guy, specifically. The relief that hit when nothing fell apart after I said it. How we stayed in that empty office until two in the morning while I told her everything about Carter.
“So I came out to her,” I say. “She was the first person I ever told. And she’s been helping me figure it out—how to accept it, how to talk about it, and how to tell people. How to tell you.”
The car feels warmer somehow, even with the temperature still dropping. Or maybe it’s just nerves—my palms are sweating, my chest feels tight, and I can’t get my heart to slow down.
Carter doesn’t say anything, but he looks thrown—his eyebrows pulled together like he’s still trying to catch up.
“Last night, we went over what I was going to say to you today. After the dinner. How I was going to tell you that I—”
The words hang in the freezing air between us. My chest aches, and I can’t seem to take a full breath.
This is it. This is the moment.
It feels like I might die if I say it—but keeping it in is already killing me.
“Shit,” I breathe out.
My chest tightens. I’m dizzy, sick to my stomach—but I still meet his eyes, even as mine start to sting.
“Carter,” I say, blinking through the blur. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for the past sixteen years.”
That’s true. I counted it last night when I couldn’t sleep. I’ve wasted sixteen fucking years.
Carter doesn’t say anything at first. He just stares at me, eyes wide.
Then he blurts, “Are you out of your damn mind?”
CHAPTER 3. Carter
I stare at Thomas, my mouth hanging open. My heart hammers against my ribs so violently I wonder if he can hear it over the howling wind outside.
