Page 14

Eve

The morning light filtered through the window, golden and soft, cutting through my haze of sleep. I stirred, groggy and warm, my head resting against something firm and steady. The faint scent of leather and something distinctly Carson filled my senses before I even opened my eyes.

For a moment, I lay still, trying to piece together where I was and why it felt so safe. Then it hit me—the events of last night rushing back in vivid detail. The party. The stairwell. Carson's lips on mine. The way he'd kissed me like I was the only thing holding him together.

My eyes opened slowly, and there he was, still half-asleep, his arm draped lazily over my waist. His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, his breathing steady, and for a second, I just watched him. The sharpness of his jawline, the way his lashes rested against his skin, the softness in his expression that he never showed anyone else.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to wake up next to Carson Blake, feeling like I belonged here.

"You're staring," his gravelly voice broke the silence, startling me.

"I'm not," I lied quickly, pulling away slightly.

His eyes cracked open, that signature smirk already playing at his lips. "You definitely were."

"Don't flatter yourself," I shot back, sitting up and clutching the sheet around me.

"Too late," he said, stretching like a lazy cat. His arm brushed against mine, sending a spark of warmth through me.

The silence that followed was heavier, the weight of reality settling between us. I glanced at him, my mind racing. What now? Did we just go back to being whatever we were before? Or did this change everything?

I wanted him, I'd given up denying it. I wanted him in whatever way he would give me, but more importantly I wanted him alive. That made me second guess myself, that made me want to pull away.

"I should probably go," I said, breaking the silence. My voice sounded small even to me.

"Why?" he asked, sitting up.

"Because..." I struggled to find the words. "This—last night—it was just—"

"Don't say it was a mistake," he interrupted, his tone soft but firm.

I looked at him, my heart pounding. "I'm not saying that."

"Good," he said, leaning back on his hands. "Because it wasn't. But I get it if this feels like a lot."

"It does feel like a lot," I admitted. "I don't... I can't do something serious right now, Carson."

His expression didn't waver, like he'd already thought this through. "Then we won't make it serious."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means we keep it simple," he said, his gaze steady on mine. "No pressure, no expectations. Just...whatever this is. Friends with benefits, if you want to call it that."

I blinked, caught off guard by how casual he sounded. "Friends with benefits?"

"Yeah," he said, his lips twitching into a grin. "You and me. No strings. We'll keep it easy."

I chewed on my bottom lip, unsure. Part of me wanted to run, to bolt from this bed and bury the memory of last night before it became something bigger. But another part of me—a louder, braver part—wanted to stay.

"You can't go hooking up with anyone else, if you want to you have to tell me first." I demanded, putting on my brave face even though my heart felt like it was being attacked by a thousand shards of glass at the mere thought.

Carson let out a choked laugh, staring at me amused.

"I mean it, Carson."

"Baby, I haven't looked at another girl since the first time I met you."He said so casually as though my heart didn't feel as though it was about to beat out of my chest. His words hit me like a freight train, leaving me momentarily stunned. I stared at him, trying to process what he'd just said, but the way he was looking at me—calm, steady, completely serious—made it impossible to form a coherent thought.

"You...what?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Carson smirked, leaning forward, his face so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. "I said, I haven't looked at another girl since I met you. You want me to say it again?"

"No," I said quickly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I heard you the first time."

"Good." He leaned back, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "So, is that a yes? You and me—keeping it casual, no pressure?"

I hesitated, my brain battling with my heart. Every instinct told me this was a bad idea, that Carson Blake wasn't the kind of guy you could have casual with. But then he gave me that look—the one that made me feel like I was the only person in the world who mattered—and I knew I was already a lost cause.

"Fine," I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. "Friends with benefits. No strings."

His grin widened, victorious but not smug. "Glad we're on the same page."

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, and for a second, I thought he might kiss me again. But instead, he pulled back, stretching lazily like the moment hadn't just set my entire world spinning.

"So," he said casually. "You got plans today?"

I blinked at the sudden shift in tone. "Uh, no. Why?"

"Good," he said, standing and grabbing a hoodie from the chair by his desk. "Get dressed. I'm taking you somewhere."

"Where?"

"You'll see," he said with a wink.

Forty-five minutes later, we pulled up to an abandoned football field. The place was empty, the bleachers silent and the turf glistening with dew under the mid-morning sun. Carson hopped out of his truck, a football tucked under one arm, and motioned for me to follow.

"You brought me here to...what? Watch you run drills?" I asked as I climbed out, wrapping my jacket tighter around me against the crisp breeze.

"To play," he said, his grin almost boyish as he jogged onto the field. "Come on, Eve. Don't tell me you're scared of a little competition."

"I'm not scared," I said, narrowing my eyes. "But I should warn you—I'm terrible at this."

"Good thing I'm a great teacher," he shot back, tossing me the ball.

"Come on," he said, his tone playful. "Show me what you've got."

I took the ball reluctantly, my grip awkward. Carson stepped behind me, his hands guiding mine, his breath warm against my ear. "Relax," he murmured. "Keep your grip loose, and aim with your body."

His closeness was distracting, but I tried to focus. I pulled back and threw the ball, watching as it wobbled through the air before landing a few yards away.

Carson laughed, his voice echoing across the field. "Not bad for a first try."

"Shut up," I said, my cheeks heating.

Over the next hour, he showed me how to throw a spiral, how to hold the ball properly, even how to fake a handoff. I wasn't great—okay, I was downright awful—but Carson never lost patience. He just laughed every time I tripped over my own feet or sent the ball flying in the wrong direction, his encouragement surprisingly genuine.

"You're not bad," he said after one particularly decent throw. "You might even have a future in this."

"Ha. Ha," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Let's see if the almighty Carson Blake can catch me." I gripped the ball tightly, shooting him a wink before running like my life depended on it. Not even 5 seconds later I felt the familiar hands of Carson, gripping my waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

"What were you saying, angel?" He smirked as he flopped us down onto the turf again, both of us breathless and grinning. Carson stared up at the sky, his expression softening as he spoke.

"This place is where it all started for me," he said, his voice quieter now. "My mum brought me here when I was six. Said it was where champions were made. That one day I'd attend this university and make a name for myself"

I glanced at him, surprised by the shift in his tone. "Your mum sounds...intense."

"She is," Carson admitted. "I always felt like she was cloning some perfect son, she set up my whole life for me you know. Sometimes it felt like too much, like I couldn't ever measure up to what he wanted."

"Do you ever tell her that?" I asked.

Carson shook his head. "Nah. She means well, you know? And I don't want to let her down."

My chest ached at the vulnerability in his words. I reached over, brushing my fingers against his arm. "You're allowed to live your life for you, Carson. Not for anyone else."

He looked at me then, something unspoken passing between us. "You make it sound so simple."

"Sometimes it is," I said softly. I knew I was being a hypocrite, for fucksake I was running from my problems as we spoke. But Carson was a better person than me, he was kind and caring. He deserved more.

For a moment, we just sat there, the weight of the conversation settling between us. Then Carson broke the silence with a grin.

"Hey," he said, nudging my shoulder. "You free tomorrow night?"

"Why?"

"Some of my teammates and I are going to a bar downtown. You should come."

I hesitated, the idea of meeting his friends feeling like a big step. "I don't know..."

"It's no big deal," he said quickly. "Just drinks, maybe some karaoke. You don't even have to talk to anyone if you don't want to."

I sighed, knowing I was already going to say yes. "Fine. But if your friends become drunk jerks, I'm leaving early."

"Deal," he said, his grin widening. "I'll pick you up at seven."

As we walked back to his car, I couldn't shake the feeling that Carson Blake was quickly becoming something more than just casual.