Page 23 of Forever After All (Pine Harbour #2)

Alice

W ell, shit. I wasn't anticipating that today. I drag myself up off the floor and hurriedly adjust my clothes, pulling my underwear back up and my dress back down, trying to smooth out the wrinkles with my hands where the material has been gathered about my waist for the last fifteen minutes.

I grab my cardigan off the floor, shake it out, and lace my arms back through it.

I regard my face in the mirror. There is no doubt about it, it's a freshly fucked looked.

So I try my best to smooth my braid down, wash my hands, and run my wet hands down my hair trying to tame the frizz into place before stepping into the corridor and heading back to the meeting.

The meeting I know Carter is already back in.

I tap on the door to the conference room, with my knuckle before going back inside.

"Alice, are you okay?" Anna asks with slight worry. "You look…flustered. "

Carter chokes on his coffee and is clearly trying to hide a laugh that threatens to bubble out. I don't look at him, because if I do, it will set me off too.

"I'm fine, Anna. I'm sorry, I got stuck on a call," I lie, probably a little too quickly. Honestly, I’d rather my boss think I was having a giant shit for the last god knows how many minutes, than think I was being railed against a mirror in the restroom.

"Oh, well, that's okay then." She nods at me, and I take my place back in my seat opposite Carter. I don't look at him for the rest of the meeting, which goes by tortuously slowly.

"Well, I think that concludes everything, to be honest. Does anyone have anything else to add?"

Before anyone answers, I hop out of my seat and excuse myself. "Sorry, Anna. I need to get back for Brenna. If there’s nothing else?" I ask, and she shakes her head, giving me permission to leave.

Carter stands from his seat too, but I exit the room pulling the door shut behind me, and quite literally run for the lift.

"Not again?" Brenna asks as I sink back into my seat next to her. "You just fucked him, didn't you?" She laughs at me.

"No." I curse, wondering how the fuck she seems to have a sixth sense about my sex life. "We were in a meeting together, that's all."

"A meeting of body parts?" She raises an eyebrow at me and tilts her head, expecting a different response.

" Shut up ," I mouth at her and press my finger to my lips to signify a secret.

"Oh my god, you did fuck him." Brenna points her finger at me in delight.

"No," I say again, not lying. "Not technically, anyway. He fucked me." I press my mouth into a straight line, trying to stop my face from giving anything away.

Brenna's mouth opens with a satisfying pop. "As soon as we've finished I'm taking you for a drink, so you can explain this madness to me."

"Okay, okay," I reply, trying not to look at my all-too-excited friend as Carter appears out the doors to the left of the foyer.

"Good meeting, Mr. Green?" Brenna asks Carter, and I kick her in the shin under the desk.

"It was a great meeting, Brenna. Thanks for asking." Carter winks at me, and I press my legs together.

"Oh, I bet it was." She beams at Carter as I try not to look at him, but he walks up to the desk, tapping it with the two fingers that were inside of me less than half an hour ago, and it makes my belly clench .

I look up to see him smiling down at me. "See you later, Alice?" He tilts his head to the side, asking it like a loaded question.

"Sorry, man. She's mine tonight." Brenna saves me from having to answer. "Girls’ night."

"Girls’ night," I repeat, shrugging and holding my hands up in the air like I don't have a choice in the matter.

"Well, okay then." He nods, stepping away from the desk. "See you soon."

"I'm sure you will." I return his smile with my own and look back down to my computer as he walks out of the building into the sunshine.

"Five o'clock needs to hurry up, because I need to hear this and it better be good." Brenna fizzes at me from the other side of the desk.

Dragging me by the hand into a dusty bar, Brenna finds the only empty booth situated in the back corner. It’s surprisingly busy for a Tuesday evening. She orders a cheap bottle of wine with two glasses, then pours the cold pink liquid into the glass, not leaving much room at the top.

"Fucking spill it." She slides one of the glasses to me and I clutch it with my hand. "Tell me everything."

Carefully lifting the glass from the table, I try not to spill the wine that threatens to overflow from the glass and I pull it up to my mouth, I take a sip and screw up my face slightly as the cheap vinegary-tasting liquid rolls over my tongue.

But I drink it anyway, then I drink some more, and to make sure I definitely think it's disgusting, I drink again for good measure.

Placing the glass back down against the table, I realise I've drank half of it.

It tastes like shit, but it's apparently what I need.

"So…" I start the conversation. "How long do you have?"

"As long as you need, hon," Brenna replies cheerfully.

Over the next hour and a half, I outline every detail about how we got here.

I describe in general detail about the abuse I suffered from my ex and how things escalated once he found drink, but I don't give specifics.

I try to keep it as vague as I can as I'd rather not discuss this again until I've told Autumn.

Brenna occasionally makes a shocked or sad face and she squeezes my hand every so often as I talk, then as the story progresses she gets more and more excited.

Especially when I tell her about how Carter kept me safe, talked me down from my panic attack, stayed with me when I needed him, made me feel alive.

And I give her all the details, even down to the restroom meeting today.

"Well, shit…" she puffs out, leaning back into her seat. "I'm gl ad that asshole is dead. Sorry, too much? I never know what to say in these situations," she says.

"No, not too much. I'm glad too. I'm just sad that it's taken for him to die for me to start dealing with what happened," I tell my colleague—no, my friend. "My therapy bill is going to be huge." I laugh, because that's how you deal with trauma when you're British.

"But what about Carter? What now?" She asks.

"Honestly, no fucking idea. As it stands right now, I think we're friends with benefits, but we haven't actually discussed it." I wince at my inability to deal with this like an adult.

"Well, you need to," Brenna tells me sternly. "Because if you don't, someone always ends up getting hurt, and right now, that's probably going to be you."

As much as I want to wave off what she says, I know it's mostly true. We need to have a conversation. Honestly, I would love Carter to be a no-strings-attached fling. I think it’s just what I need right now, but I’ve gone from one no-strings-attached fling to another, and ultimately I end up bored, or sad I don't have the capacity to take it further.

"I'll call him later," I say and look down at my watch, noting how far into the evening it's getting. "Brenna, I need to go, okay? But thank you for this, I needed to get this off my chest, even though I didn't realise it. "

"My pleasure, hon," she replies. "Maybe take a couple of days off? Try and sort things out?"

"No need, I'm a big girl, I can take care of my shit." I play with my hair.

"Well, okay then. See you tomorrow?" she asks.

"See you tomorrow," I reply, and we leave the bar together, Brenna turning left and me turning right. I pull out my phone and send a text.

Me: I think we should talk.

As if he was waiting for my message, Carter replies instantly.

Carter: About what?

Me: Boundaries.

Carter: What are those? *winking emoji*

Me: Oh you know, just rules that we put in place to stop us getting hurt?

Carter: Ooooh, those.

His sarcasm bleeds through the phone screen as I read his message.

Carter: Look, I'm totally fine with being FWBs. We don't have to label anything, do we?

Me: Yeah, I kinda think we do.

Carter: You're no fun.

Me: You didn't seem to think that earlier.

Carter: Now THAT was a lot of fun, I'll give you that.

Me: We should talk about this in person, maybe not via message?

Carter: Fine.

Me: Come over Friday?

Carter: Or you can come over to mine? I can make dinner, you know, like you do for your friends.

Me: Okay.

Me: No funny business though. Just talking.

Carter: Whatever you say, Alice.

Me: See you Friday then.

I get home from the bar and run myself a shower.

Standing under the stream of the almost too hot water, it cascades down my back before running out the ends of my hair.

I breathe in the steam, taking in a lungful of the hot air.

After a few minutes, I turn the shower off and wait as the last trickles of water fall out of the shower head before sliding the door across and grabbing a towel to wrap around myself.

As I step into my living space, there’s a knock at the door.

I look at the clock on the wall, 9 p.m. Who is knocking on my door this late?

I quietly walk up to my apartment door and look through the peephole.

You can never be too careful as a woman and I would never blindly open my door, even in a mostly secured apartment building.

Autumn is standing on the other side of the door, with Jed, her dog, and a small wave of relief settles over me as I open the door in my towel.

"I gave you a few days, Alice. Now you better spill it.

The only reason I didn't let myself in here is because it's 9 p.m. and I didn't want you to think someone was breaking in.

" And she walks into my apartment, throwing her bag on the big chair in front of my window.

I still haven't moved it back into its rightful place since Carter dragged it across the room, sat me in it, and feasted on me.