Chapter 28

Carter’s houseis enormous in broad daylight, but somehow at night, it looks even more intimidating. I think it’s because of the glow. In daylight, it’s like any other big house, but at night, Carter’s home glows. Illuminated by strategically placed lighting, Carter’s house sets itself apart from other homes with their paltry porch lights.
I got stuck by a couple red lights so Carter made it here first. He’s standing outside his car, his face lit by the glow of the cell phone in his hands. His fingers are moving like he’s typing something. A message? A text? Who is he texting this late at night?
God, what an annoying immediate thought to have.
I turn off my car with a sigh and grab my purse from the passenger seat. I wanted to buy a pack of condoms before I found myself alone with Carter again, just in case, but I don’t want to buy them in town. I’d rather buy them one day when I go to work, so I can stop at Wal-mart and be an anonymous condom-buyer, as opposed to the local drugstore where it would be further advertised that I’m sleeping with Carter Mahoney.
I’m sleeping with Carter Mahoney. Wow, that’s a weird thing to wrap my head around.
Carter slips his phone into his pocket as I approach and flashes me a smile. Wordlessly, we make our way up the stairs to his front door. He catches my hand in his once he gets the door unlocked and then we make our way inside.
While he’s locking up and setting the security alarm, I ask, “Were your parents at the game tonight?”
“Yeah, they come to most of the games. If my dad’s out of town on business he might miss one, but then my big sister usually comes to keep Mom company.”
“Are you close to your mom?” I ask, since he hasn’t told me much about her.
“We have a touchy relationship. We’re family, but we’re polar opposite people with polar opposite views of the world. I love her because she’s my mother, but I don’t always like her, if that makes sense.”
“That does make sense,” I murmur, following him up the stairs. “I always felt like my mom had more potential, but she was limited by her own upbringing, and she never pushed past that to grow into her own. I wondered what she might have been like if she had taken a different path, made different choices. It’s the same with anyone though, you know? Our paths curve, and who we become isn’t always who we thought we would be.”
Glancing back at me as he leads me up the stairs, he asks, “Who do you want to be?”
Good question. “Still trying to figure it out, I guess. I have a few different destinations in mind, but I’m trying to be realistic. I know my ultimate destination depends on a lot of different things, so I’m making a few different plans that I could be happy with.”
His tone amused, he remarks, “You’re always prepared, aren’t you, Ellis?”
“No one can be prepared for every eventuality, but I do my best.”
“Throw out the conditions. If you could be anything, if the world would just open up and let you have anything—what do you want?”
I ponder that as I follow him to his room, trying on different lives, sifting through all the daydreams I’ve had about my future to see where they lead. “Well, I want to live somewhere with a cool, colorful fall, as we discussed before. Snow at Christmas. The whole nine yards.”
Nodding briefly, he says, “That’s a given.”
“I’ll probably want to get married and have a child or two. To play in the fall leaf piles,” I add.
“A solid reason for procreation, if I ever heard one.”
I crack a smile as he turns on the light in his bedroom, then I go over and climb on his bed. “I want a job in a field I’m interested in, something I can continue to study so I’ll never get bored, but I also want to make a positive difference in other people’s lives. Ideally, I would like to be either a professor or maybe a psychologist. Then I could study what interests me, and also apply what I learn to help others, either by teaching them or actively counseling them. The mind is a complex beast, and I’m fascinated by it.”
“Never would have guessed,” he remarks, smirking faintly. “Am I your first experiment, future Dr. Ellis?”
I crack a smile. “Maybe someday I’ll write a paper about you. We’ll have a dinner party to celebrate its publication, and my like-minded colleagues will be intrigued rather than scandalized.”
Pushing me back on the bed and climbing on top of me, he says, “Might want to change my name to protect my identity. Otherwise it will be pretty awkward when I’m sitting at the dinner table next to you.”
My heart kicks up as he prowls over me, but not in the bad way. “Why are you sitting next to me in this scenario? Are you stalking me? Do we have a bad break-up and you just can’t let go? I cheat on you with Erika, don’t I?”
Cocking his head, he says, “I’d watch that.”
I roll my eyes and shove him in the shoulder. “Ew.”
“Anyway, no, I’m not stalking you. We’re married.”
Laughter bubbles up and I can’t quite keep it in. “We are?”
Offering a confident nod only he could pull off when saying something so crazy, one single day into our relationship, he says, “Yep. You’re the one who stalked me, remember? Followed me to Columbia so you could chase off all my potential wives.”
“Ah, right. How could I forget? And that led to marriage? Clingy exes ‘round the world are going to be really excited to hear this works.”
“It worked for you,” he verifies. “I didn’t want to leave you behind anyway, so I was happy to see you peeking around pillars on campus. In fact, I flirted with a couple girls just to get a rise out of you. Once you scared them off with your Tootsie Roll, I hauled your ass back to my apartment and made you mine. Eventually we got married, something about you wanting babies to play in leaf piles. They’re asleep upstairs while my accomplished wife celebrates her big brain with her snobby friends. I don’t like many of them, myself, but I have plenty of snobby friends you don’t like, too.”
“Oh, well, that seems fair, then.”
He nods. “It works out. Then at the end of the day, we can both take off our public faces, shake off our snobby colleagues, and reconnect with what’s real. Every night, I curl up with a woman who knows me and likes me anyway, and every night, you get to curl up beside a man who finds you as endlessly fascinating as you find your work.”
Even though I know he’s just playing with me, his words wrap around me like vines. They shake me like nothing he’s ever said before, tempt me like no words ever have.
I want that.
I know logically it’s much too soon to know whether or not I could ever have that with him, but that it’s his scenario… maybe.
“You find me endlessly fascinating?” I ask.
Bending his head to kiss my neck, he murmurs near my ear, “I’ve never met anyone I could talk to the way I can with you. You know exactly who you are and what you stand for, but you have an openness I’ve never encountered before. You’re not stubborn like most people; it’s not your way or the highway. You’re curious and flexible, you’ll try out new ways of approaching things rather than accepting the beaten path as the only way. I love the breadth of your mind. I love just hanging out and talking with you, and…” He unbuttons my jeans. “I’m a pretty big fan of everything else we do, too.”
This time, I don’t even stall. He unbuttons and unzips my pants, sliding his hand down inside. Lust twists low in my belly and I let my eyes drift closed as his hand cups me, his fingers sliding under the fabric of my panties so he can touch me.
Pushing a finger inside me, he leans close and catches my gasp in his mouth. “I love the way you feel,” he mumbles against my lips. “The way you taste. I love your little cries when I make you come.”
With his words warming me up so effectively, my response to his touch is immediate and electrifying. His finger rubs against my clit and my whole body jerks, lightning rods of pleasure coursing straight through me. I grab onto his shoulders and pull him closer, feeling the pronounced rise and fall of my chest as I breathe harder.
“I spend every day of my life with people who like the look of a mask I wear, Zoey. You’re the only person who likes what’s underneath better.”
“Carter,” I murmur, needing to kiss him, to express affection. I bend to reach him, brushing my lips against his. His words massage my mind and my heart, his fingers work my body, and in no time at all, I cry out against his mouth as I come apart.
My body is boneless in the aftermath, and my eyes drift closed. I’m tired, satisfied, and Carter’s bed is so comfortable. He moves down the bed and pulls off my jeans. My panties come off next, then he starts tugging my new Longhorns tank top up my midriff.
“You don’t want to leave my Longhorns shirt on and pretend I’m an eager-to-please Carter Mahoney fan?” I tease.
“And miss the chance to watch your tits bounce while I fuck you? I don’t think so.”
I sit up enough for him to drag the tank top off over my head, then start to recline against the mattress again. Before I can, Carter gets his hand around my back and unsnaps my bra, then he drags that off, too.
Once more, I’m stripped bare, and Carter is still fully dressed. He comes down on top of me, the smooth fabric of his T-shirt soft against my skin. The sensation of the fabric dragging across my nipples causes them to harden. On instinct, I arch my breasts closer to him, craving his touch.
His hand slides down my side and he anchors it on my hip, pulling me as he rolls onto his back so that I end up on top of him.
“Are you sore from last night?” he asks.
“Yeah, but it’s okay,” I assure him.
Carter smirks. “I wasn’t offering to stop.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Of course you weren’t.”
“Take out your pony tail. I like your hair down.”
As I reach back to pull the elastic band out and free my hair from the heavy pony tail, I murmur sarcastically, “Yes, master.”
Naturally, Carter is not offended by my playful rebuff—he relishes it. “Damn right.”
“I’ve never met anyone who could say things that make me want to smack them, but also kiss them. You’re the first.”
“That’s because when I say it, you know we’re on the same side.”
“Are we on the same side?” I ask lightly, sliding down so that I’m lying on top of him, my hair down around my shoulders now.
“Of course we are,” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to caress the ball of my shoulder, then playing with a lock of my hair. “Believe me, Zoey, it’s easy to tell when you’re on my bad side. You haven’t been since the first time I actually saw you, volleying back and forth with me in the middle of your greatest humiliation. You know when to fight and when to stand down. You’re perfect for me.”
“Do you want me to fight tonight?” I inquire.
Carter shakes his head. “Nah. I want to make love to you tonight.”
His words make my tummy bottom out. He’s saying all the nice things tonight, and I like it. Suspicion whispers at the back of my mind though, trying to convince me he’s saying nice words because he knows he needs to, just to melt away my reasonable doubts.
I don’t want to let suspicion ruin this, but I don’t want to turn a blind eye, either. Looking at his chest instead of his face, playing with the fabric of his T-shirt, I ask, “How do I know you’re not playing me like you play everyone else?”
“You don’t,” he says, simply.
I meet his gaze. “That’s scary, you know.”
“Anything that isn’t safe can be scary,” he states. “I’ll never be the safe bet, Zoey.”
“I know,” I murmur. “I just…” I try to think of how to explain the simplest thing in the world, that like all people entering into a new relationship, I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want him to smash my heart into pieces so small, it will never be the same, and land a massive blow to my pride on top of it, because the red flags were out in the open, blowing in the breeze, and I ignored all of them to try to connect with him.
“You just need to start trusting me,” he finishes for me.
“Trust the scary, unpredictable sociopath?” I ask lightly, leaning down to kiss him to take any potential sting out of my words.
Carter reaches up and grabs a fistful of my hair, dragging me off him and rolling me on my back. “Not a sociopath.”
“Right,” I murmur. “You’re just manipulative, fine with exploiting and violating the rights of others, callously disregarding—”
Rather than allow me to continue my diagnosis, Carter kisses me. Then he finally undresses, flinging his clothes onto the floor with mine and coming back down on top of me, this time, naked.
“I know we joke about this from time to time, but I need you to know it’s a joke. If you think I’m pathological, you’re never going to trust me.”
“Girlfriend Zoey agrees that what you said makes sense. Watchdog Zoey says of course it’s true—you need me to trust you so you can keep manipulating me and getting your way while doin’ whatever the hell you want.”
“I wasn’t born this way,” he assures me. “I used to be more normal, then I realized the world sucks, everyone in it sucks, and I needed to toughen up and look out for myself, because no one else is gonna look out for me. Can’t be a sociopath, because they’re born, not made. My brain wasn’t wired this way.”
That’s the most revealing thing he has ever said to me. “You rewired it. That’s a lot of work. Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is, I protect myself and my own interests. You’re one of my interests. You’re safe. I want you; I’m not going to hurt you. If I just wanted some dopey doormat I could cheat on, I could find one, easily. That’s not what I want, and I’d never try to turn you into one. I only cut down people I don’t like or don’t give a shit about. You don’t fall into either category.”
Cracking a smile as I look up at him, I tease, “You saying you care about me, Mahoney?”
Picking up the teasing gauntlet while imprisoning me with his body, he says, “Maybe a little bit.”
He’s still a little scary despite his reassuring words, because he’s right—he’ll never be the safe bet, and maybe that means I’ll always be aware of his capacity for damage. Maybe he’s feeding me lies, and they taste better than the truth, so I want to swallow them, even though it will undoubtedly mean trouble later.
But maybe he’s telling the truth, and Erika is just doing what some girls do when they still want a guy who doesn’t want them anymore—scaring off the competition, like my not-at-all-serious joke about stalking Carter at Columbia. I, personally, would never do something like that because it’s desperate, and any man who made me feel desperate to keep him when he’s desperate to get away would be a man better cut loose, anyway.
That’s a personal choice though, and one I would abide no matter how painful for the sake of my own self-respect. My ability to feel good about myself is crucial to my own identity, and I know the parameters. I know what I expect from myself, where the line is drawn and what I can’t bend to tolerate. A cheating boyfriend tops the “hell no” list.
Just because I feel that way about it doesn’t mean Erika does, though. Like Carter pointed out, putting up with his shit comes with perks. I haven’t taken as much advantage of them yet—I’m not even sure I want to—but Erika was with him for a while, so surely she knows all the ins and outs of being Carter’s girlfriend.
Me, I’m still in the 101 class, and some days I don’t even feel qualified for that one. I need Remedial Mahoney 099 or something. Maybe grab up an elective—Carter’s Backstory 089.
Carter leans in and kisses his way up my neck, lighting up my nerve endings and drawing a shudder of pleasure out of me. He follows up the assault to my senses by pulling back and looking down at me with unrestrained tenderness. When he looks at me like that, all I want to do is kiss him.
“I must care about you a little bit, too,” I offer back.
Carter smiles. “Just a little bit, huh?”
I hold up my thumb and forefinger to show a miniscule distance between them.
“Let’s see what I can do to change that,” he murmurs, before resuming his trail of kisses—but this time, down my abdomen, across my pelvic bone, and finally, between my thighs.