Page 34 of Don't Say You're Sorry

His jaw tics. Tongue in cheek, he glances around, finding Nate coming up beside us. Nate gives him a questioning look, and Carter rolls his eyes. “I’m fine, Nate. Go home to your future ex-husband.”

Nate thumps him in the back of the head as he passes him. Carter grunts and rubs the spot.

“Carter,” I say.

He sighs heavily. “Come on.” He tips his chin at me.

I follow him to his car. “Where?”

“If we’re gonna have this conversation, you’re gonna have to buy me a drink.”

I raise a brow. “You just wanna keep me away from Adam a little longer, don’t you? Make him suffer.”

He smirks over his shoulder, and I shake my head with a laugh.

There’s the asshole I know and love.

“You’re fucking with me.” Dropping back in my seat, I gape at Carter with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and…did I mention shock? What the fuck?

He shakes his head, his forearms resting on the bar as he spins his glass with his fingertips. “Nope.”

I blink at him. “What is wrong with you?”

He laughs at that, lifting the glass to his mouth to finish the rest of his beer. Shrugging, he says, “I’ve done worse.”

Jesus. I hope that’s not true.

“Does Nate know about this?”

“No.” Turning his head, he searches my eyes. “You’re the only person I’ve ever told. You can’t say anything.”

I scoff. He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m not getting involved in this shit.

“Can we go now?”

He feigns hurt, his brows pulling in. “Aren’t you gonna offer to listen to me pour my heart out? Give me a shoulder to cry on?”

“Absolutely fucking not.” Setting my empty glass down on the bar, I stand and walk toward the exit.

“Dude, what about the check?” he calls after me.

“You pay it, asshole.”

Laughing, he follows me out of the bar. I start walking, planning on stopping to grab some Chinese food from my and Adam’s favorite restaurant on the way home. I’ve been going there at least once a week for years.

Carter catches up and falls in line beside me without question, abandoning his car in the parking lot for the night. My mom was killed by a drunk driver, so he knows I’ll never get in a car with someone who’s had a drink, and he respects it.

Wrapping his arm around my neck, he pulls me in and presses his mouth to my ear. “We should walk into the house like this,” he says, his knuckles brushing my collarbone. “Reallymake him suffer.”

I smile and turn my face, our noses brushing. “You touch me like this in front of Adam, I’ll break this pretty face,” I warn, tapping his cheek with my palm. “He’s mine to fuck with, not yours. You understand?”

He smirks, bumping his forehead against mine. “You think I’m pretty?”

I grab his throat and push him away, making him stumble before he falls in line beside me.

“I think you’re fucking something,” I mutter.

CHAPTER 14