12
“PAY UP.” —GARE
Carter
THERE’S A PART OF ME that would like to say nothing happens when our lips nally meet for the rst time. That it’s the same as it always is: no sparks, no ames. That there’s a sinking feeling in my stomach, an anchor that drops to the very bottom as fast as it can when I realize this is nothing new, that I’m right back to feeling like the type of love my parents shared doesn’t exist for me, that I’ll never nd it. That I’m okay with that, the way I have been all these years.
A part of me would like to say that’s what happens.
But I can’t.
Because when I haul Olivia into me, when her hands slip up my arms, over my shoulders, ngers plunging into my hair, when our lips touch—fucking finally—my entire body comes alive. My world explodes with color, my hands on her face trembling with desire and need, with shock. I want more. Need more. I don’t see how I’ll ever get enough of this, of her, of us. She’s a drug, and I’m addicted o my very rst hit.
Her lips part on a sigh, vanilla and brown sugar begging my tongue to reach out and take a taste. We meet with a hot, wet sweep that makes me groan, and I sink into the feel of her, until there’s nowhere left to go.
Everything around us dies down to a gentle simmer, the frantic drum of my heart drowning everything else out. Nothing matters except this woman in my arms, the way her mouth moves uidly with mine as I swallow every one of her whimpers.
Olivia pushes forward, forcing me backward until my calves hit a chair. When I fall onto it, she falls with me, climbing into my lap and plowing her ngers through my hair, as if she has no intention of letting go.
My hands glide down her back, gripping her waist, and when her hungry mouth moves over mine, I suddenly become aware that the room is silent. I crack one lid, spying Cara’s astonished, slightly irritated face. Emmett’s nervous gaze bounces between his girlfriend and me. Adam hits me with two thumbs up and a grin, and Garrett starts trying to collect his winnings.
Locating Olivia’s ngers in my hair, I twine them through mine and pull our hands to my chest, pressing one more kiss to her lips.
And one last one.
Okay, one more. Just for good measure, because fuck me, she tastes like the best kind of sin.
“Ollie,” I whisper when she goes in for more. “Ollie, we have an—”
“Fuck yeah,” Garrett whoops out. “I’m ve hundred bucks richer!”
Olivia’s eyes ip open, wide and horried. “Oh.” She touches trembling ngers to her lips, cheeks igniting. “Oh my God.”
“Hey.” I run my palm down her back. “It’s okay. Just a kiss. Not a big deal.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. Before I can ask what for, she slips o my lap and disappears with Cara.
“Mind your business,” I toss out without any heat at everyone else as I cross
the room, Emmett hot on my heels.
“You fucking kissed her,” he hisses.
“She said I could,” I hiss back.
He shoves my shoulder. “Do you like her?”
I jam my elbow into his ribs. “Yes, I fucking like her.”
“Shhh!” Clapping a hand across my mouth, Emmett pushes me against the wall. With a nger on his lips, he gestures down the hall, where Cara’s voice lters from.
“You like him.” It’s more accusation than anything.
“Of course I like him, Cara. He’s charming and funny and makes me smile in this irritating sort of way and I’m losing my damn mind because I’m totally falling for Carter Beckett.”
Hell yeah she is. Charming? Check. Funny? As fuck. Make her smile? Straight from my bucket list. Emmett rolls his eyes as I jerk a st into my side in celebration.
I peek around the corner, frowning when Cara leads Olivia and all her compliments away. When she returns ve minutes later, it’s without my favorite brunette.
“Did she leave?” Shit. I fucked this up somehow, didn’t I?
Cara crosses her arms, tapping her ngers. “What’s your endgame here, Carter?”
“Endgame?” What the hell does that mean? I wanted to kiss her, so I did. I like her and she likes me. Why is everyone making such a big deal about this?
I mean, sure, kind of a silly question, all things considered. I’m not what
you’d call boyfriend material.
But maybe… maybe I could be, for her.
“Yes, Carter, endgame. What’s your plan?”
“I want to…” I scratch my head. I want to see her again. I want to take her to that Disney movie. I want to kiss her some more, maybe snuggle on my couch while we watch TV in front of the replace and I play with her hair, ’cause it’s soft and it smells nice. “I want Olivia.” Plain and simple.
“You want every girl.”
“It’s not the same, Cara. Not with her.”
It’s never really been about wanting so much as it’s been about satisfying an urge, slapping a temporary bandage over a void. Because the truth is, though I promised my mom I wouldn’t let a love like my parents’ get away, there’s a big part of me that not only expected to never nd it, but didn’t want to either.
When you love someone so wholly, it makes you weak. You risk pieces of yourself that you can’t aord to lose.
With Olivia, the ache doesn’t feel so startlingly empty. I don’t know why, and the thought alone scares the shit out of me.
I’m not sure what Cara sees in me, but her expression softens. She sighs, squeezing my arm. “Ollie went upstairs to take a breath. Give her a couple of minutes, ’kay?”
I do. I give her ve minutes, then ten. The longer I pretend to be interested in any conversation, the antsier I grow. By the fth time I’ve opened the fridge for
no reason, Adam sighs.
“Just go get her, man.”
“Fuck yeah.” A six-pack of beer in hand, I take the stairs two at a time and rush into every spare room, frowning when I come up empty.
A sliver of golden light pours out through the cracked door at the end of the hall, along with the faint smell of burning cherrywood. Slowly, I step into my bedroom.
Olivia’s not here, but a frigid gust of wind blows through the glass doors leading out to my balcony, sheer curtains ruing with the breeze, and I follow the smell of re outside.
There, on the outdoor lounger set opposite the built-in stone replace, curled up beneath a blanket, is just the person I’m looking for.
Orange ames dance, illuminating the soft lines of her face, the gentle heave of her chest, the swell of her ruby lips. With her hands curled under her chin, Olivia sleeps soundly, the sweet sight crushing like a weight on my chest.
I’ve never had a woman here who I wanted something from. Never allowed a woman to be vulnerable enough in my space to fall asleep. Never had to work so hard to push down the longing that makes me itch to climb in behind her, pull her into my chest, and just fucking… be.
Until Olivia.
As I sink down to the cushion beside her, I nd myself wondering if everything is always going to be until Olivia, if this is that point in my life where everything changes. The thought is as thrilling as it is confusing and frightening.
Olivia’s toes press against my thigh, and I feel the sharp bite of her freezing skin through my jeans. Covering her feet with the fuzzy blanket, I squeeze, trying to warm them before this west coast winter can inict permanent damage on the cutest toes I’ve ever seen.
Her feet ex in my grasp, arms stretching over her head like a sleepy kitten.
Dark lashes utter, giving way to bleary eyes. When the confusion fades, she drops her head back onto the cushion with a groan.
“Please tell me you didn’t catch me sleeping on the balcony o your bedroom.”
“I didn’t catch you sleeping on the balcony o my bedroom.”
She hus a laugh and sits up. “I wasn’t snooping or anything.”
“So how did you end up in my bedroom, and then on my balcony, and curled up beneath my blanket, which was on my bed, by the way?”
“I… I…” Her cheeks ush as she takes a breath, then just goes for it. “I was overwhelmed and I couldn’t think straight, so I came up here for some quiet and I got curious and the lights were on and your bedroom wasn’t what I was expecting and then I found this and the coals were still hot and this fucking view, Carter, it’s absolutely incredible and I was just staring at it and I hope you’re not upset with me for invading your privacy and falling asleep.”
Upset with her? I’m not upset with her. I’m just fucking staring at her, this breathtaking masterpiece, so wildly contradicting with the way she spits re and sarcasm while simultaneously caring too much about what people think.
And honestly? I fucking adore her.
I take her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. “Hey, pip-squeak. Take a breath. Don’t be sorry.” I gesture to the crackling ames, the sea of stars swimming in the night sky, the endless trail of pines leading up to the peaks of the mountains. This view right here is why I bought this plot of land four years ago. “I get it. It’s impossible not to get a little lost when you’re looking out at all this. Kind of realize how small and insignicant our problems are. It’s my favorite place to be when I need peace.” When I need to forget who the world thinks Carter Beckett is and remember who I actually am, or who I want to be, maybe.
Olivia watches me carefully, and I wonder what she sees. Is she able to see past the image I’ve carelessly created for myself? I think she is. I’m less sure that her decisions aren’t fueled by that image, though.
She gestures at the beer, a silent question, and I nod, watching as she twists the cap o two, one for each of us. She sips quietly for a minute before asking, “Why did you come after me?”
“Because I haven’t been able to get you o my mind all night. If I’m being honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you walked out on me at the
bar.”
She nibbles her lip. “Do you know what scares me about you, Carter?”
Everything, probably, but hopefully something I can x. “What?”
“That I honestly don’t know whether you’re being genuine or if you’re just trying exceptionally hard to get into my pants.”
“It’s a dress,” I tease, tugging on the sleeve wrapped around her delicate wrist.
Her unimpressed face tells me it’s not the time for jokes.
The short and truthful answer to her worry is both. I genuinely care about her and want to spend time with her, but I would also throw myself at her feet if it meant she’d let me destroy her body, because I want to absolutely wreck her.
I mean that in the most respectful way possible, of course.
“You make me think,” I admit.
She does a half eyeroll. “Because you aren’t used to having to work for it?”
Christ. Like, I fucking get it. Nobody trusts me with Olivia, her included, because I fuck around a lot. Nobody thinks I have it in me to change, to want more, to treat a girl right.
Draining my beer and ditching it on the table, I scrub my face. I don’t know what to do and it’s unnerving. I never have to second-guess myself on the ice.
I’ve worked damn hard to earn the respect of my teammates, their condence in me as their captain. I do my best not to let them down, but right now, I feel like I’m letting myself down. I don’t know what my next move should be. How the hell do I get her to trust me enough to give me a shot here at something, anything?
Olivia touches my knee. “I’m sorry, Carter. My sauciness is my best defense
mechanism.”
“I see that.” And I get it.
“I meant what I said earlier. I do like you. I just…”
“Don’t trust me. And why would you? Why would anyone?”
Olivia’s eyes icker and drop. Tentatively, she wraps her ngers around mine.
“I’m really sorry, Carter.”
She doesn’t have anything to apologize for. It’s my own fault. Emmett always told me my fucking around would come back to bite me in the ass. I always gured he meant an accidental pregnancy with a puck bunny, though I’m
careful as hell. Birth control and a condom or I’m not going in. I didn’t think in a million years he meant that the only woman I’ve ever wanted would ultimately not go for me because of my past.
But here she is, having already admitted her feelings for me, the only thing standing in our way being my less-than-stellar history with relationships, or rather, lack thereof.
So, I guess I need to work on changing her mind, give her a reason to trust me, even if it’s slow and takes me all damn year. I’ll be her friend rst, and I’ll be
good.
For Olivia.
