Page 21 of Until the End (The Lost Letters #3)
Ginny
M y head pounds with each beat of my heart.
Dear god, I think I’m dying. Why the heck did I drink so much last night? Oh right…because my sister is an asshole. She kept egging me on, and it was too fun to say no. Okay, so I’m also to blame, but it’s way more fun to put this pain on her.
“Oh, shit.” I shoot out of bed and race into my bathroom just in time to expel the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
My eyes water, and I know my makeup from yesterday is running down my face.
The last thing I remember is Carson carrying me out to his car.
Another body-racking heave removes whatever was left in my stomach, and I sit down on the floor of my bathroom to catch my breath.
My eyes fly open when a cool cloth is pressed to my forehead. I immediately relax into Carson’s touch. “Don’t get too close. I stink.”
His amusement fills me with a bubbly warmth. “I don’t mind. Here.” He holds out a glass of water, and I gratefully take it. A quick swish of my mouth does wonders. Carson helps me up off the floor and hands me my toothbrush, already loaded with toothpaste.
When I look in the mirror, I expect my mascara to be running down my cheeks. Instead, all I’ve got are tired eyes and pale skin. I’m bewildered as I catch Carson’s gaze. “Did you take my makeup off last night?”
“You don’t remember?”
“The last memory I have is of you carrying me out of Gia and Lottie’s house.” Although now that I’m a little more awake, some things are starting to come back. I gasp. “Did I take off my clothes in front of you?”
Carson snorts. “Yep. I don’t think you were paying attention to me when you did it. However, you did purposefully send me looking in your underwear drawer instead of your pajama drawer.”
I wince around my toothbrush. How embarrassing. “Di yo ay a nigh?” He raises an eyebrow at me and waits while I spit out the toothpaste and try again. “Did you stay the night?”
“Yeah. You asked me to.”
Wow. I made some interesting choices last night. Flashes of cuddling against his chest hit me. I wish I could remember it fully. Maybe if I’m brave enough, I can ask him to stay again tonight.
I want more time with him. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Your plans for the day.”
I bite my lip. “I’m thinking a swim might be nice.”
Carson’s eyes heat. “I didn’t bring my trunks.”
“I’m sure we can make do.” All I want to do is press up onto my toes and kiss him. I wish I was brave enough to take the leap .
But it seems Carson knows me better than I thought because suddenly, he’s leaning into me, his nose brushing against mine while our lips touch in the barest hint of a kiss. He’s giving me a chance to back away. I won’t do anything of the sort.
I press my mouth against his, those soft lips pliable under mine. Carson grips my face, guiding me and taking me over, body and soul. His tongue teases the crease between my lips, coaxing me to open for him.
So I do.
No kiss has ever felt like this. I’m flushed and aching with every swipe of his tongue. I tangle mine with his, needing more of him with every pass. How have I lived my whole life without knowing how he tastes?
Nothing has ever felt this erotic or all-consuming. I’m overwhelmed in the best way.
Carson pushes me backward until my lower back digs into the vanity. His body is flush against mine without a hint of space between us. I’m thrumming with need, trying my best not to start humping him until he gives me what I want.
Air is the only reason I pull back from his kiss.
Carson takes it as permission to move down my jaw.
I shiver when he reaches the soft skin under my ear.
I’m going to die right here from an overload of pleasure.
How can a few kisses make me feel like this?
Is it because I’m hard up? I’ve never been one to feel an overwhelming amount of lust, but I’m finding it difficult not to strip down and let Carson have his way with me.
I’m not ready.
The thought helps cool my desire a bit. I slide my fingers through Carson’s auburn hair as he presses soft, sweet kisses to my skin.
“You’re everything I dreamed of and more,” he whispers, keeping his head tucked into my neck.
I hold him close to me, soaking in the comfort of his embrace.
With an inhale, Carson straightens, a gentle smile softening his features.
“Are you ready for breakfast? There’s coffee downstairs, and I thought I could make some omelets. ”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Get away, you beast!” I squeal, darting around my kitchen island as Carson chases after me with doughy fingers.
After breakfast, we sat outside by the pool, drinking coffee and teasing each other as we’ve always done.
I was worried that our relationship would be different after last night.
Instead, it feels the same, except Carson touches me way more than he used to. I quite like it, actually.
I’d rather he not touch me now, though. Whatever dough he’s kneading is caked to his hands.
“I can’t have a hug?” He pouts.
“Go wash your hands. Then you can.”
His boyish grin brings back memories of when he was a kid. He’s always been my very best friend.
“Fiiiiiine. I’ll wait.” He goes back to the dough on the counter while I sit on a barstool across from him.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re making.”
“And I don’t plan to. You’ll have to guess.”
“Rude.”
He winks at me. Before I can ask any other questions, my phone rings with a video call. Chelsea’s and Tanya’s gorgeous faces fill my screen when I answer. “Hi!”
“Ginny! You look great. How are you?” Chelsea asks.
“I’m feeling great. I’ve been working with Henry on some new songs, and it’s been amazing.”
Chelsea’s excited squeak makes me laugh. “What a relief. I can’t wait to hear them!”
“We’ve got big news,” Tanya cuts in .
“Huge news.” Chelsea’s eyes widen.
Carson raises an eyebrow, silently asking if it’s okay if he stays. I nod. “What’s going on?”
“The Weasel has gone off the deep end,” Tanya says, her voice grave.
My forehead scrunches. “What does that mean?”
“Like lost every marble he’s ever had,” Chelsea emphasizes. “After we put out our statement a couple of weeks ago, things were pretty quiet. Then one day, Wesley posted this cryptic message about looking to his past to move toward his future.”
“And now,” Tanya charges on, “he’s ranting about how the industry is out to get him and that all he’s ever done is try to do his job to the best of his ability. He said some vile things about you, which I will not be repeating, and now everyone’s freaked out that he’s going to do something crazy.”
Chelsea jumps in again. “We wanted you to talk to Daren to ensure your security is tight. He said some really awful things.”
“I’ll make sure Daren is updated. What do you think is wrong with him?”
“Drugs,” they say simultaneously.
I shake my head. “No way. I barely even saw him drink alcohol.”
Chelsea’s face pinches. “You also didn’t know he’d been cheating on you the whole time you were together.”
I wince. “Fair. So what do we do? Anything?”
“Nah. Acknowledging him will only add fuel to the fire. People are pretty disgusted with his comments. I’ve been posting some of the content we banked while we were visiting you, and it’s getting great responses. If you could send me some shots of you writing, that would be even better.”
“I’ll get on it. What else has been going on?”
“I got an email you might be interested in,” Chelsea teases.
“From who? ”
“Mariana Beckett.”
My jaw drops. “No way.” She’s the biggest agent in the music industry. She’s known to be an absolute shark when it comes to making deals and is very selective of who she takes on as clients.
“I thought it was a joke until I confirmed her email address.”
I’m stunned.
“She wants to meet,” Chelsea continues. “I took the liberty of getting a few dates from her. If you don’t want to, though, I can cancel.”
“Don’t cancel. I have no plans, so set it up for whenever works.”
“I’ll send you the details once I have them.”
Tanya gives me a serious look. “Talk to Daren. I don’t like the things Wesley was saying.”
“I will. Promise.”
I hang up the call, and Carson’s arms wrap around my shoulders. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, making me melt into him. He must’ve washed his hands while I was on the phone.
“I don’t like what the Weasel has been up to, Goose. Sounds to me like he’s holding a grudge.”
“Me, too. There’s not much I can do about it, though. He hasn’t physically come after me.”
“That you know of.”
I turn to look over my shoulder. “What are you saying?”
Carson moves around to sit next to me. “Wesley knows where you live, right? He’s had access to your house. What if he’s the one who’s stalking you?”
“Why would he do that? He was going to marry me.”
“Goose, he had the whole fantasy laid out before him.” Carson ticks things off his fingers. “The gorgeous wife, a decent future in acting, plenty of money to spend on whatever he wanted, not to mention all the ass he was getting on the side. Then it was all gone in the snap of a finger.”
His words are harsh, but he’s not wrong. Everything Wesley wanted went up in smoke the day I ran away. I’d be pissed if I were him.
Carson grabs my chin, lifting it so I have to make eye contact.
“None of this is your fault. Do you hear me? He was an unstable asshole, and you did the right thing, running away. But we also have to be prepared for the backlash. Wesley isn’t going to take this lying down. Who knows what he’ll do next?”
The thought leaves a pit of dread in my stomach. How far will Wesley take this to get his revenge?