“Zoey, stop,” he says, putting more muscle into his hold.
I jerk to a stop, so I glare at him over my shoulder. “Let me go, or I’ll scream.”
“Go ahead,” he challenges. “Scream your head off. As soon as the first person out of their house sees it’s you screaming, they’ll go back inside and shut their blinds.”
That is so accurate and so infuriating that I want to slap him. “Go to Hell, Carter.”
While his comeback was clearly meant to hit below the belt, he must not want to fight with me. Instead of lobbing more meanness, he pulls me close and turns me around to face him. “I did not sleep with Erika.”
“She didn’t say you slept with her,” I state. “She said she got you off.”
“She did not get me off,” he assures me, meeting my gaze. “I told you, I’m trying to build your trust, not break it down. You know me. I may be unscrupulous when I’m going after something I want, but I’m not a fucking moron. Why would I squander your trust for a blow job from an ex I don’t care about? What kind of sense would that make, Zoey?”
“Just because it’s stupid doesn’t mean you didn’t do it,” I fire back. “Don’t try to use logic to bail yourself out.”
Carter blinks at me. “I… do not know how to respond to that. What else am I supposed to use?”
“Don’t bullshit me,” I tell him, shoving him in the chest. He doesn’t budge. “If you did anything with her, tell me that right now. Not later after you’ve thought it over, weighed the pros and cons. Now. We weren’t technically official, so I guess… this is a gray area, but it isn’t gray if you lie to me. I will never trust you if I find out you’re lyin’ about this. I won’t date you either. You can terrorize me all you want, I’ll shut you down so fast, my relationship with Jake will look warm and fuzzy.”
Instead of being offended that I’m reaming him, Carter smiles and grabs my shoulders, yanking me into his chest. “Come here, you.”
“Tell me the truth,” I say, refusing to hug him back.
“I am telling you the truth,” he insists, calmly. He keeps one hand secured around me to keep me from escaping his hold and runs the other one up and down my back in a reassuringly tender gesture. “Nothing happened between me and Erika,” he continues. “It’s a coincidence that part of the scenario she tossed out actually happened. You know me. If I had wanted to get off, I would’ve made you do it, not called in a sub.”
I would’ve made you do it shouldn’t reassure me, but it’s so damn true, it’s kind of hard to refute. “You promise?” I mutter.
Carter tips my chin up so I have to look into his hypnotically beautiful face. A little piece of me gives under the power of it, but my stubborn brain points out that he knows the effect he has on girls, that he’s probably spent years perfecting the look he’s giving me right now. That enticing glimmer of fond affection dancing in his dark eyes has probably been launched at dozens of girls before me, and each of them probably felt this same tug on all their heartstrings, urging their hearts to leap into his waiting hands.
Only Carter isn’t some handsome prince with gentle, loving hands made of flesh and bone, he’s a predator with talons designed to keep his prey from escaping his powerful grip. How many of those girls who fell into his trap made it out with their hearts intact? Do I really expect I’ll be the first?
His faintly amused words from that very night flit across my mind: “You believe my promises, princess?”
In the present, he caresses my face tenderly, all the affection of a guy who is legitimately invested glimmering in his endless brown eyes. “I promise.”
Chapter 20
Orange flames jump in front of me, the only light in the isolated clearing. We had to trek through woods for so long that I had the passing thought I might be heading to my own murder scene, but then we came upon this clearing, and the guys commenced putting their Boy Scout skills to good use. There’s forest all around us, but not close enough to the fire to pose a danger.
The fire roars taller as Cartwright throws more shit on it. Heat blasts my face, like the singeing heat from an open portal to Hell.
The real portal to Hell is behind me, though. Carter’s strong arms wrapped snugly around my body, me sitting between his legs like I belong here.
He and Brianna are bullshitting. I’m quiet. I’m drunk. That was stupid. I know that was stupid, and I know my chances of escaping with my virginity intact dropped drastically with alcohol consumption, because on a clear stroke of genius, I at some point decided it would be an okay idea to start dating the guy privately voted most likely to date rape. Fabulous. I make fabulous choices.