Page 26 of Forever After All (Pine Harbour #2)

Carter

I am non compos mentis when it comes to Alice. Not of sound mind.

I try to be cool, try to play the “friends-with-benefits” card but I know, in the pit of my stomach, that she is something special.

When she came over this evening, it was going to be to set boundaries, to talk about how we keep a line between us, and I would have given her that.

I would have given her whatever she wanted just so I didn't lose the very real, very physical connection to her.

I crave Alice in every way. She has become one of my closest friends, and I feel like a better man just for knowing her.

I would have let Alice completely control the conversation and would have agreed with whatever she said, just so I could be in the same room as her and to breathe the same fucking air as her .

I couldn't get off that Zoom call fast enough. Seeing those messages come through from her about leaving and going back to England was like a knife twisting in my side. Not because I was hurt, and not because I was trying to make it about me, but it was because I felt worried for her.

I know the very real guts, strength, and determination it would take for her to do that. I immediately wanted to be at her side. I wanted to be the security blanket that she needed, even if she thought she could do this alone.

Alice has a tough, no fucks given exterior, but I remember the very terrified woman who was curled up in my arms, trembling and sobbing just two weeks ago.

Yeah, that's right. Alice has got me wrapped around her pretty little finger, and now I don't know what to do with myself. Pacing around my office, I keep hitting call, expecting it to connect. Instead, I just get voicemail.

Hi, this is Alice. Leave me a message and I'll call you back.

After a few attempts, I do the next best thing and call my brother.

"Hello?" he answers.

"Bro, it's me. Alice went back to England. Her flight has just taken off," I speak quickly as I run my hand down my face, scrubbing my fingers through my beard.

"Okay? And?" My brother, the man of few words, isn't making me feel better about this situation. "Autumn said she's gone home for a funeral. What's the big fucking deal, man?"

"I like her, man. I really, really like her and I'm fucking worried about her. That's what the big deal is," I say in frustration.

"Carter? Hello?" My sister-in-law's voice takes over on the end of the phone.

"Autumn, you knew that Alice went back to England?" I ask.

"Yeah, I knew. She told me last night that she was going." Autumn's voice echoes a little down the phone, and I press my finger into my free ear, trying to help me hear her a little better. "I told Alice to let you know. I told her to speak to you."

"Well, she did let me know, she just told me," I start to get a little irate at Autumn—for reasons unknown. "Why didn't you go with her? You know why she's going, what is wrong with you?" And without really meaning to, I shout.

"Carter." Her voice becomes scarily calm and quiet.

"I am only going to say this once. Don't you ever, and I mean ever, presume to know the reasons why Alice went back to England by herself.

" I totally deserve the vitriol that follows.

"I love you, but if you ever speak to me like that again, I don't care how big you are, how famous you are, or how rich you are, I will kick your ass.

" My sister-in-law is quite scary when she wants to be.

"You listen to me, and you listen good. I have known that woman since I was a tiny kid.

I know her better than anyone. You have known her for a miniscule amount of time in comparison, so don't you ever try to lecture me about what she needs.” There is a pause and the composure in how she speaks is honestly a little terrifying.

Sawyer's gravelly voice takes over the call, where Autumn finished.

"Oh, and let's be real, bro— if you had told Alice how you really felt about her, then maybe she wouldn't be sitting on a plane, alone on an eight-hour flight, and maybe you wouldn't be getting angry with my wife.

You'd be a wise man not to do that again.

" Then he hangs up the phone, leaving me in the silence of my office.

Carter, you asshole. You deserved that. I feel immediate guilt shouting at Autumn. What kind of man shouts at a woman? Oh yeah, apparently that’s me.

Without really thinking about it, I grab the closest bag I can find, stuff clothes, boxers, and socks inside, before grabbing my passport, and keys, and I lock up the apartment behind me and run down the stairs, into the parking garage.

Jumping in my truck, I put it in drive and speed out of the lot.

With no real idea what I am doing, I aim for my brother's house.

It's still a goddamn construction site, but Sawyer and Autumn's home is almost complete.

The outside looks finished, but there is still work to do inside. I jump out of the truck and hammer on the door.

Autumn pulls it open and looks at me with pure annoyance. "What are you doing here?" she asks flatly.

"I'm here to apologise," I reply faster than anticipated. "Autumn, I am so sorry. That was so fucking rude of me."

"You're right, it was rude, and you're lucky you weren't standing in front of her at the time, because I'd have put you through that new drywall," my brother answers from behind her and steps to his wife's side, glowering at me, as he tucks a pencil behind his ear.

Sawyer wraps an arm around Autumn's shoulders and he pulls her to his side.

She spreads her hand out across his chest and looks up at my brother, smiling.

"Apology accepted, Carter. We all say things we don't mean sometimes." Then she steps away from Sawyer and pulls me into a gentle hug. "Now it's great that you're here and all, but why are you really here?" she asks, able to completely see through me.

"I need to know where I'm going." I rub a hand across my face and wave at the bag visible in the passenger seat through the window of my truck .

"Where you're going?" She tilts her head to the side and honestly looks a little confused for a moment before her eyes widen slightly. "Oh, fuck where you're going !" she exclaims. Without me needing to say it, she turns to my brother and says, "Ha, I was so fucking right. He loves her."

"Well, shit, my little brother is in love." And he bear hugs me before rubbing his knuckles across the top of my skull.

"Ow, get off me, asshole," I say in response, wrestling to get free. I’m a big guy—a brick wall, to be honest—but my brother is something else. He even makes me feel weak.

I confirm nothing and move on to find out the details. "How do I find her, Autumn? Tell me where I'm going."

Autumn picks up her phone and starts typing. I try to speak, and she holds a finger up to me, urging me to stop. My phone vibrates in my back pocket.

"I sent you the address. You're going to have to fly to Heathrow, then get the train to central Bristol. I can direct you from there, but really, you just need to get in a cab and ask them to take you. It's about an hour from there." Autumn nods at me.

"Thank you, sis. You're the best." I pull her into a giant hug, and she stumbles a little but laughs as she does. "Don't say a word to her, okay?" Urging my sister-in-law to keep this quiet.

"Not a word, I promise." She holds her hands up in front of her.

I head back to my truck, pull out my phone, book the next available flight to London, and drive towards the airport. The dust from the gravel road swirls up around my truck as I drive away from the house.

I don't have a plan; I just know that I need to get to Alice.

I should have brought a jacket. England is cold, rainy, and grey. Oh, and did I mention cold?

My flight landed at 9 a.m. UK time.

I should have bought a hell of a lot more than two pairs of boxers, a pair of jeans, and two shirts. I discovered how awful my packing was when I was on the plane, but there isn't anything I can do about it now.

I pull my phone out, luckily I was able to charge it on the plane, and I call Alice. She answers straight away.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to ignore you.

I just need to do this." Alice's voice breaks a little, sleep lacing her voice, and the first words that leave her mouth come in the form of an apology.

She has nothing to apologise for. "Wait, what time is it? Why are you calling me at…four o’clock in the morning?

" Alice yawns. "Sorry, jet lag." She yawns again .

I know that feeling well.

"I just wanted to make sure you’re okay," I say quietly, relieved to hear her voice.

"I'm okay," she replies, sounding a little more awake, the longer she talks.

"I'm sleeping in my childhood bed, so it's not very comfortable.

I just needed to crash, I needed to see my mum and dad.

I'm going to go to a hotel today." Alice's voice drops a little in volume.

"They still don't know my reasons for being here and I'm keen to keep it like that.

They know I'm here to visit for a few days, and they know I'm going to Danny's funeral. They just don't know the reasons why."

"You should tell them, you should tell them why you're there, Alice." I urge her to confide in her parents.

"But then I'd have to do it all again, and I couldn't handle the look on my dad's face. I'm not telling them, Carter. I need to protect myself."

I nod like I expect her to see it, even though I know she can't. Just hearing Alice's voice makes me feel calmer and happier.

"The funeral is on Monday. As soon as it's over, I'm coming home. Then we can talk, okay?" Pleading down the phone, this woman doesn’t realise I would do anything she wants.

"Okay, Alice. I'll call you on Monday. I'm here if you need anything. Whatever the time, just call me." I end the conversation by pressing the little red button on my screen .

Little do you know that I'm already here for you, princess.

Five hours after my plane lands, I check in to my hotel, The Peak View Spa and Golf Resort, in a small town outside of Bristol, and sink, fully-clothed, into the relatively small but comfortable bed.

It creaks a little under my bodyweight, but the mattress is soft and envelops my body.

My knees aren't what they used to be, in fact, they’re ruined, and sitting in a plane seat for hours makes me feel stiffer than usual, and no matter how comfortable the seat might be, you can't move or stretch like you would anywhere else.

I stopped in the city to pick up a few things. Toiletries, a jacket, other clothes, and essentials I was so keen to leave home without.

Leaning back against the pillow, I adjust it to make myself comfortable, and at 2:30 in the afternoon, I fall into a dangerous jet lag-fuelled nap.

I open my eyes to darkness and groan as I sit up in bed. Feeling hungover without drinking, I undo the button on my jeans. The metal pressing into my skin as I turned over in bed is what finally woke me up.

The small blinking red light on the clock is the only thing visible in the room.

Ten past ten. Shit. I'm never going to sleep tonight.

I drag my clothes off my achy body, leaving them in a pile on the floor, then head for a shower.

Grabbing a washcloth from the shelf, I clean my body and wash the day of travel down the drain.

I rub my hands through my beard and hair with the generic all-in-one body and hair wash on the shower wall.

Turning the metal handle in the shower, it squeaks a little as the water grinds to a halt, and steam swirls around me.

Grabbing a far-too-small-for-me towel off the rail, I try to wrap it around my waist, and it doesn't even meet in the middle.

I stare down at my hands and try to pull the towel in tighter—with no luck.

Who are these things made for, because it isn't an adult, that is for damn sure.

With nothing else to do, I swing my dick from side to side, making a satisfying slap against each thigh as I do, and I laugh to myself as I do it.

I might be a thirty-four-year-old man, but that doesn't mean I'm a grown up.

I throw the towel onto the sink and step back into the main room, looking for the boxers I bought earlier today. I look down at my phone to check notifications.