Page 75

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

carter

I cancel my plans with Arden the next day.

I’m still mad, and although I know Peck is nothing more than a little rat, he’s gotten into my head.

I think canceling was a shitty thing to do, and I’d physically die if she did it to me, but there is a gaping black hole in my chest that is full of a deep, scary feeling.

I don’t trust what I’d say to her if we were to speak face-to-face right now, even though it’s not her fault that Prick did what he did and said what he said.

We go on the road. We’re in New York for a night, and we win. It’s because of my anger that we do, and despite being happy about it, Boston and Declan watch me carefully.

On the plane back home, Lowesy tries to make conversation, but I put on my big, blue headphones, shut my eyes, and shut him out.

When I get home the next morning, she’s waiting in the doorway. I should have expected that. The doorman just lets her in now. I sigh, tearing my sunglasses off, and brush by her, dropping my stuff in the laundry room, trying to find my balls when I slip right past her into the kitchen .

I’m not mad at her, I’m mad at the situation.

I’m mad she didn’t listen when I told her all the thoughts this guy had about her.

I’m mad she didn’t tell me something happened in the on-call room the other night, even if I don’t believe it’s what he said it was.

I do believe something happened. I can feel it in my gut.

“Carter.”

I shut my eyes, tearing open the fridge. I grab an electrolyte drink, glancing at her. “What?”

“Are you kidding me?” she bites out. “ What? That’s all you have to say?”

I run a hand over my face. “I’m wiped.”

She whirls back like I slapped her, her brown eyes narrowing. “Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?”

I take a sip and stare at her. I hate how pretty she is, especially when she looks all angry like that.

I know she deserves the chance to give me an explanation, especially since we just went through this with Irina, but the longer I had time to stew on him, the more convinced I became that I’m missing something.

“ Why, Carter?” she barks.

“Why do you think? ” I shout, and for the first time, this girl looks afraid of me.

It’s done though. My tolerance has snapped, my temper has exploded.

There is no amount of anger in the world that would ever make me hurt her, but the shouting is something I can’t stop.

“God, Red! For a smart girl, you need to start using your fucking brain.”

“You need to start using your fucking words!” she shouts back, slamming the cloth she’s holding onto the counter. She’s glaring across the kitchen at me, steam rolling off her back.

I roll my eyes, sick of these questions. That word. I’m sick of hearing it, sick of her aiming it my way like she’s any fucking better .

“I’m going out,” I grumble, shaking my head. To Lowesy’s. To Boss’. Anywhere outside of this house. I stalk away from her, but of course, she doesn’t let me go far. No, she’s right on my heels, even when I swipe my keys out of the bowl by the table and open the door.

“Step out of that door and our arrangement is done.”

I freeze.

The door is open, and my body is half outside, in the hall.

I swallow, hating how easily that stopped me in my tracks.

Hating how I just gave myself away by digesting the depth of that threat.

I sigh, dropping my shoulders, and step back inside my condo.

I slam the door shut as I do and turn to her.

Her arms are crossed in front of her, eyes burning into mine.

“Walk out on me again, and this is over.”

“I heard you the first time,” I snap, tossing my keys in the bowl. I drop my arms. “You’re not going to let me go, and you don’t seem to want me to stay. What the fuck do I do with that?”

Her brow furrows. “When did I say that I don’t want you to stay?”

I gesture between us, my anger subsiding to pure exhaustion. “Does this not feel clear to you?”

“An argument?” she asks. “I’m all for fighting with you, Carter, but that’s if we fight it out. I’ll fight with you every single day if I have to, as long as you don’t walk out of that door. We’re not those people, remember?”

She throws my words from that night in the car right back in my face.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Tough luck,” she snaps. “Why did you cancel our plans before you left?”

I run a hand over my face. “You know why. ”

She and Penny have definitely spoken. I’m not an idiot.

“Stop saying that,” she hisses. “ Why ?”

I fucking hate that word.

“Did you fuck him?”

Her eyes widen, but a wave of relief seems to stream through her body. Her arms relax as they fall to her hips. Her shoulders sag a bit. She takes a big, steady breath and dips her chin.

My heart stops in my fucking chest.

She did?

I didn’t believe that part of it. I thought maybe he kissed her, maybe she kissed him back for a second, but…

I’m going to burn this place to the ground.

“Finally,” she says in a whisper. She looks up at me, right into my eyes and shakes her head. “No, I didn’t sleep with him.”

My brow furrows. What? No? It took everything in me not to fucking hit him because of what he said, but I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to be somebody that people want to stay with. That she wants to stay with.

“What?”

She shakes her head again, slowly treading toward me. She stops right in front of me, peering up at me through those lashes. “I didn’t sleep with Noah.”

“He—”

“I’m sure he insinuated a lot of things,” she says with a soft nod.

I have one hundred questions on the tip of my tongue but they vanish when her palms slide against my jaw.

She shakes her head slightly, eyes searching mine.

“But no. I wouldn’t do that. We have an agreement, and I plan to abide by it. It’s only you.”

“Yeah? ”

“Yeah,” she says, “but something did happen. I slapped him.”

I blink. “ What?”

She winces, nodding. “Hard, actually.”

Well, that’s a different fucking story.

I bite back a smile, picturing Noah getting his shit rocked by this little rocket in my arms. “That’s my girl.”

“He had a lot to say and I was tired of having to hear it. That’s all it was. His pride must be wounded if he tried to convince you that something different happened.”

I swallow, my tongue wetting my bottom lip because I’m staring at her face, and when I do that, I look at her lips, and when I look at her lips, I want to kiss her.

I knew she wouldn’t have done that to me, but he got in my fucking head.

I knew he was full of shit, but I still lost my mind over it.

I still had to ask, because he’s Noah Peck, and I was mad she wouldn’t adhere to my warnings.

She didn’t want to cut him off because he’d been kind to her, even when I begged her to.

She’s too loyal to people who don’t deserve it.

I’m mad he was still around to put her in that situation, but it’s not her fault.

“I almost broke his jaw.”

Her thumb brushes my cheek. “But you didn’t?”

“I didn’t swing,” I confirm, my voice suddenly thick and gravelly.

“Why not?”

I look at her. Really look at her. And I know the answer. “Because you wouldn’t want me to.”

Because it would hurt her. Because it would disappoint her. Because it might make her look at me differently. Because I want her to trust that I can be the man she wants, and that I can do the things she needs me to do, or in this case, not do.

“Why?” she tries again, her voice barely a whisper. She pulls herself into my arms at the end of that word, hands sliding around my neck, her mouth stopping a hair’s length from mine.

“Red,” I murmur, eyes darting to her lips.

Her mouth brushes mine but she doesn’t kiss me. She breathes the same word against my lips. “ Why ?”

“Because,” I mumble, winding my hands around her waist. I hold the small of it, keeping her body between my palms. “I know what that paper says. I know what we agreed to, but that contract hasn’t meant shit in a long time.”

She nods, but says nothing. I know it’s because she wants to keep asking me that question: Why?

This girl in my hands terrifies me. She’s scarier than any guy on the ice or any man in a bar. She can actually hurt me, beyond physical pain. She can chew me up and spit me out, and I’ll lose whatever grip I have on my sanity if she does.

“Is this still fake for you, Red?” I whisper, brushing my thumb against her waist.

Arden’s thumb brushes the nape of my neck. “No, Carter. It’s not.”

And my heart explodes.

I physically feel it. As powerful as the rush I feel after a punch.

I suck in a breath.

This isn’t fake for her.

Hasn’t been.

I don’t know for how long. I thought I was rowing this boat in circles alone, but I haven’t been. She’s been right behind me, oars in hand, pushing us toward where we needed to be with all of her ‘why’s’ and her pleas for me to own my feelings.

“Fuck,” I mutter, “okay.”

She angles her head. “What about you? ”

“Red, you’ve had me wrapped around your little finger this whole fucking time.”

She rewards me for that one. Her nails scrape against the back of my scalp and she lifts herself on her tiptoes until her mouth reaches mine. It’s urgent, like she’s needed those words from me, like they’ve matched her thoughts and she’s been yearning for me to meet her in the middle.

I wind my arms completely around her, but we just admitted some big shit to each other, and this kiss should commemorate that. I slide my hands down her thighs and hoist her into my arms, deepening the kiss the moment they’re wound around my waist.

I carry her across the kitchen until her butt hits the edge of the dining room table, never once daring to stop kissing her. Her cherry chapstick seeps from her lips to mine, and my dick aches at the taste.