I sighed, whole body shuddering as some of the tension eased off, relaxing against Carter’s warm chest. “It would’ve been you, if I hadn’t stepped in, wouldn’t it? Catching the sharp edge of your mother’s tongue.”
“The sharp edge of my mother’s tongue?” Carter repeated, clearly amused. “I didn’t know you were into poetry.”
He was deflecting. He didn’t want to talk about this any more than I did.
“She shouldn’t talk to you like she does,” I said again, even more certain this time. What had Carter gone through behind closed doors?
I was starting to realize that I’d had no idea how bad it was. I’d barely even scratched the surface of understanding.
“She shouldn’t talk toyoulike she just did,” Carter said. “But if you’ve ever wondered why I moved to New York and never came back… I guess you’ve got some idea now.”
“Yeah,” I said, heart aching for him. “Yeah, I do.”
With a final sigh, I pulled away from him, giving us both space we desperately needed.
“Thank you,” Carter said. “For getting between us. You’re right. It would’ve been me if it wasn’t you.”
“It’s gonna be you now anyway,” I said. “You ran after me. She’ll be mad.”
Carter shrugged. “She’s always mad at me. Doesn’t really make a difference.”
That wasn’t true, and I knew it, but I appreciated that Carter had picked my side over his mother’s. Even if she’d clearly been in the wrong, she was still hismom. I was just his best friend’s annoying little brother.
“Here,” he dug into his inner pocket, pulling out an actual, real-life handkerchief and holding it out to me. “Not that the tears and snot aren’t a great look on you, but…”
I took it, marveling at the fact that he carried one. Who carried ahandkerchief?
“I suddenly feel like a delicate nineteenth century lady,” I said. “Do you also have a fainting couch stuffed in that coat?”
Carter shrugged, an adorable blush coloring the ridges of his cheeks. “You’re the one who wanted a suitor ten minutes ago,” he said. “I think that means you’re supposed to keep that.”
I wiped my face, figuring there was no point in letting Carter’s unexpected preparedness go to waste, and then balled it up and stuffed it in my pocket, not least of all because it seemed a little rude to pass back a handkerchief covered in bodily fluids.
“I’ll cherish it forever,” I said, and I was only half-joking. Carter was going to turnmeinto the kind of person who carried one, just because he’d given it to me and I wanted to keep it.
He smiled, warm and soft and so,sotempting, taking a half-step toward me.
My stomach flipped,convincedhe was about to kiss me. Was that why he wanted me to clean up? So hecould?
“Good,” he said, licking his lips, and I’d already forgotten what we were talking about.
Before I could kick the part of my brain that would have told me not to into gear, the part that needed another hug and maybe a good orgasm to feel better took charge, and suddenly my hand was on Carter’s cheek and our noses bumped together as I kissed him, hard and needy, a flood of warmth washing around the pit of my stomach at the soft, surprised gasp he made.
The part of my brain that wasn’t a needy asshole shuddered into life a moment later, yellingstopin my head, whistles and sirens going off between my ears.
I pulled back, horrified at myself.
The first time I’d kissed Carter, I had a reason for it. There’d been apurpose, it wasn’t just about me and what I wanted.
This time, it’d been all selfish.
And I was doing it to a man who didn’t like me, didn’t want me, and had been surprised every time someone kissed him because he never got to make that decision for himself, some asshole wasalwayspushing themselves on him.
Now the asshole was me, and I wanted to throw up. This wasn’t who I was, and he didn’t deserve me taking advantage of him.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, backing away a pace and almost tripping over my own feet. “I’m… I…”
Tears threatened to well up again, the faintest stinging at the corners of my eyes warning me that I needed to get out of there before I made an evenbiggerasshole of myself.
