Page 29

Carson

T he cold, crisp beer slides down my throat, gulp after gulp. But it’s doing jack-shit to erase Wren’s words from my mind—nothing to wipe away the memory of her expression while she told me her secret.

Why the hell am I fighting this so hard?

It’s just a fucking orgasm. I can help her with that, can’t I? One orgasm. Just one. Something that stays between us, and then I move on. I’ll know that she’ll have a higher standard for any asshole she dates, and I’ll also know that she feels more accomplished by checking things off her damn list.

The thought of her with someone else fucking kills me.

Knowing that no one’s been able to get her to climax gives me the craziest feeling.

“Fuck it.”

I down the last swig of my liquid courage, toss the mountain-covered can into the trash, and grab my keys.

My headlights are aimed directly at her house.

If we do this, there’s no going back. Nothing about us will ever be the same. But I can’t sit back and let the woman who has always meant so much to me be left in the hands of some other careless asshole. One who doesn’t deserve to touch her, let alone teach her anything.

She asked me to help. I’m going to fucking help her—even though it just might kill me.

My fist pounds hard on the front door. I know she fell asleep on the couch during the movie, so I’m sure this will wake her. From what I remember, she’s always been a light sleeper.

Movement catches my attention through the window beside the door. The blinds snap shut seconds before the front door creaks open. A disoriented Wren stands in front of me, a blanket pressed against her chest, her eyes squinting against the glare of the porch light.

“Carson? What are you doin’ here?” she mumbles in a groggy, sleep-filled voice. “Is everything okay?” She blinks rapidly, attempting to wake up fully.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” She glances over her shoulder at the clock, which is too dark to read. A hand rubs over her exhausted face. “What time is it?”

I know it’s well past midnight, but I also realize that if I don’t get this done now, there will be no sleep for me tonight.

“I don’t know. Late. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She moves back and motions for me to come inside.

I step into the quiet living room. The movie we watched earlier is playing again.

“I just pushed play for background noise to fall asleep,” she says, following my gaze. “I was too tired to take my butt to bed.”

She gives a half-smile, but it falls flat. Suddenly, I’m feeling like a jackass for being impatient and not waiting until tomorrow to discuss this with her.

“Have a seat.” She gestures to the couch. “I’ll put on some coffee for us.”

“No need. This will only take a minute,” I reply just before she leaves the room.

Her mouth tugs down in annoyance. “Okay. Spit it out then. I’d like to get a few more hours of sleep before I have to get up.”

Wren has always been the opposite of me. While I want to kick baby goats when I have to get up early, Wren has always been a morning person. But that must only apply when she is the one deciding the waking hour.

“I’ll help you.”

“Help me?” Her blonde brows knit together as she studies me, trying to make sense of my words. “Carse, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m pretty sure I’m still half asleep. You’re gonna have to elaborate.”

Yeah, she’s definitely pissy when she’s woken up.

“With your list.”

She shifts her weight to the other foot and pulls the blanket closer around her as she clears her throat. “You came over in the middle of the night, beat on my door, and woke me from a fabulous dream…to tell me you’ll help me with my list of hobbies?”

She stares at me, disbelieving. She’s definitely testy now—a side I swear she only shows to me. Only Wren would get this feisty at one in the morning.

“You don’t think tellin’ me you’re down to do jigsaw puzzles and crochet scarves could’ve waited ’til tomorrow?”

I shake my head, keeping my eyes locked with hers. “Those aren’t the things I’m talkin’ about.”

She pauses.

“What? What else… Oh .”

And that seems to wake her up. Her face shifts. Her entire posture changes—no more sleepy fog, just stark clarity.

Her eyes shyly drop to the floor, then flicker back up. “Carse, I asked you to please forget about that. You don’t need to?—”

“Do you still want to do the things you wrote?” I interrupt.

She hesitates, takes a shaky breath, then slowly nods, eyes casting to the floor again.

“Alright then. Prioritize your list. You work the mornin’ shift tomorrow, right?”

She nods again, her cheeks visibly red, even in this dimly lit room.

“I’ll be over after I finish up at the diner. It might be late, but I’ll call you.”

There’s a beat of silence, tension thick between us. Her expression is unreadable, but she’s not backing away from this.

I’ve never doubted that she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. But I can’t let that deter me from my plans.

“I only have two rules.” I lift a finger for each. “No sex. No mouths.”

Her blonde brows scrunch. “But how—?… Okay,” she agrees with a slight nod.

I turn toward the door without another word.

As I drive back home down the dark dirt road, headlights bouncing over gravel, the weight of what I just agreed to settles in my chest like a brick.

I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life. Selfish ones. Reckless ones.

But this? This isn’t about me.

This is for Wren.

And I’m going to make damn sure she gets exactly what she wants.