“I’ve gone without sex before, Erin,” he says, and I turn my head and see him smiling at me. “Just not lately.”
“Serious question . . . when was the last time you went this long?” I ask him, thinking it’s an innocent question.
“When I found out that my only girlfriend was cheating on me,” he says, and I stop breathing when he says the next part, “with my father.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, looking up at him. “I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, it isn’t something that someone would advertise,” he says, his voice low but steady. “Can you imagine the headlines? Hollywood prince’s girlfriend cheating on him with senior.”
“That’s horrible,” I answer, and my heart breaks for him. I wonder if it’s the girl with him in all his early pictures.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “That isn’t the horrible part. The horrible part was that we were together for over two years, and my parents were paying her for info about me.” I try to swallow, the back of my neck tingling, and I feel suddenly ill. “It was after I kicked them out and started running things on my own. Seems they still wanted to have a hand in the cookie jar. So one night while I was in this club, she came up to me, and well, we had a lot of things in common.” His laugh is almost like a sneer. “Fast forward two years, and we are practically living together.”
“You don’t have to,” I say to him, hoping he stops talking, but he doesn’t.
“I came home three days early from shooting and went straight to her apartment. Let’s just say I’m the one who got the surprise.”
“Do you think your mother knew?” I ask, hoping to Christ she didn’t, and that what little she did for her son, she somehow stuck up for him.
“I have no idea. I didn’t stick around to ask questions. I went home, packed her shit, and had it delivered to her. I changed my number, my credit cards, and sold the house. Changed everything for the second time in my life, and I started over at the beginning.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I tell him the truth.
“It is what it is.” He shrugs, and I get it now, the no-strings sex and the different women. He doesn’t trust anyone.
“I still can’t imagine,” I say. He doesn’t answer me, and I don’t bother saying another word. I sit here looking at the fire, imagining the heartbreak that he went through. My eyes get heavy, and I force them open, but then I tell myself I’ll just rest for a minute. My head rests on his shoulder one minute, and then the next, I hear his heartbeat echo under me. I try to open my eyes, but I give myself just a minute longer. I feel myself being carried, and I slowly open my eyes to find my cheek against Carter’s sweater. “I can walk,” I tell him, my voice coming out in a whisper.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice is soft also. “This is the most action I’ve had in a week. Let me have this moment.”
“If you try to cop a feel, I’m going to kick you in your junk,” I mumble to him, and then I’m placed so softly on the bed I don’t even feel it.
“Good night, Erin,” he says softly right next to my ear, and I can smell him all over me. I open my eyes, and now I see why I smell him all around me. His arms are beside my body as he leans in just a touch, and if I moved my head a bit more my lips would touch his. My eyes watch as his eyes roam over my face. His face gets closer and closer, and I hold my breath. I stop breathing and close my eyes, waiting for it. And then just like that, he’s gone. “See you tomorrow,” he says softly, closing the door behind him. I hear him go back outside, and I go to the shades and look at him sitting down in front of the couch. His head hangs down as he probably thinks of what a mistake it would have been to actually kiss me. I watch him get up and put out the fire. I undress, slip into my pjs, and slide into bed the same time I hear his door close softly. I look over at my closed door when my phone beeps. I reach out and grab it, thinking it must be work, but I’m surprised it’s Carter.
Carter: Thank you for tonight.
Four words and I should just leave it, but I don’t. Instead, I answer back.
Me: Thank you for carrying me to bed.
I place the phone next to me, wondering if he will answer me when I hear a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” I say. He opens the door and stands there in his shorts that hang way too low on his hips. His chest is bare as he walks into the room.