“And you can do whatever you want with whomever you want.”
“Obviously.”
Carter shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Don’t shoot it down without consideration,” I tell him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s a way for us to still enjoy each other for a little longer without ripping my heart out.”
Without warning, Carter crawls over, pushes me back on the bed, and climbs on top of me. Cocking an eyebrow as he looks down at me, he reminds me, “Remember what I did last time I thought you were seeing another guy? It may not be easy to ruin some asshole’s life when he’s in PA and I’m here, but you better believe I’ll find a way.”
I crack a smile, grabbing his sides and rubbing affectionately. “No, it wouldn’t be like that. You and I would essentially have to evolve into friends with benefits. We couldn’t be possessive or we’d both be miserable.”
“I reject this proposition. I don’t want you to be my friend with benefits, I want you to be mine, period.”
Sighing and dropping my hands from his sides, I tell him, “I want that, too, but it’s not an option. I’m just trying to find a way to salvage things between us without ruining them.”
Carter takes my wrists and pins them over my head, then leans down so that his handsome face is much closer to mine. “As usual, Ellis, you’re thinking too small. Haven’t you learned by now, you’ve gotta go big or go home? Sometimes compromise is not the answer. Sometimes taking what you want is the answer.”
I open my mouth to offer the same cautious excuses he has already heard before, but instead of letting me utter them again, he covers my mouth with one hand.
“No. I wasn’t done talking,” he tells me. “I don’t want to hear how hard it would be. I don’t want to hear how I could potentially let you down and ruin your life. I’ve told you again and again, I am not going to ruin your life, only change it. When are you going to start believing me?”
He uncovers my mouth so I can answer. “Our fiftieth wedding anniversary?” I suggest.
“That’s a pretty long wait. How about our first wedding anniversary?”
“Are we getting married when we’re 69?”
Carter chuckles. “No, you psycho.”
“Then that’s too fast. I don’t see how I could possibly be sure you wouldn’t ruin my life by then.”
Suddenly cocky, Carter says, “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’ll be convinced a lot sooner than you think. Like, before the new year.”
Choking on a stifled laugh, I tell him, “You know December is nearly over, right?”
“Yep. I still have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”
Now it’s my turn to cock an eyebrow. “You think you can convince me with tricks?”
“I’m pretty sure. They’re really cool tricks.”
“You are unreasonably confident.”
“Usually. But it all ends up working out,” he says.
I don’t feel like wasting my energy—or more time in the city—arguing about it, so I settle with a simple, “We’ll see.”
Carter shakes his head at me. “I can’t decide if it’s me or you that you’re so intent on underestimating.”
That brings an immediate scowl to my face. “Excuse me? I don’t underestimate myself. I’m quite confident in my own abilities, thank you very much.”
“You are,” he says with a faint nod of acknowledgement. “When it comes to certain things, absolutely. But you have these blind spots, these bizarre specks of inferiority when it comes to just a few things. You keep trying to sell yourself on this narrative that I’m not serious about you, Zoey, but it’s wrong. I am serious about you, more serious than I’ve ever been about anything else in my life.”
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re serious about me,” I deny, but I don’t expand because I’m not sure how to refute his claim.
“College is another thing. It’s like you’re afraid to set your sights above a certain level, but you should. Maybe if you did, maybe if you aimed higher, you’d land there. How do you know if you’re afraid to try?”
“I’m not afraid. I’m realistic.”
“I think you’re slapping a label on fear and calling it realism,” he tells me. “You weren’t afraid to take a gamble on me, but now that college and the future is calling, all of a sudden, you’re playing it safe.” Holding my gaze, he shakes his head. “We don’t play it safe, Ellis. We don’t turn away from what we want because it might end up hurting a little if it goes sideways. We trust each other to be there to pick up the pieces if it does. So, either you’re being a chicken shit, or you’re not trusting me. Tell me which one it is.”
I wrinkle up my nose and whack him in the stomach, not appreciating being called out on my own bullshit. “It is not being a chicken shit not to throw caution to the wind and trash my life plans so I can join you chasing yours.”