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.
Chapter 29
Carter’s body shifts, the bicep that serves as my pillow moving and displacing my head. It wasn’t easy finding a comfortable way to lay on him to begin with, so I grumble and curl into him even harder.
“Stop squirming,” I mutter.
Chuckling, he leans in and kisses my forehead. “It’s time to get up, sleeping beauty.”
“Never.”
“Not a morning person?”
“Mornings are the devil’s work. Your bed is so comfortable. Your bedding is so soft. I don’t understand why you ever leave your bed.”
“It’s much more tempting to stay in it when you’re here with me,” he offers. “Wanna blow off your church thing and stay here all day?”
Aw, man. I was nestled up in a comfy sleep fog and I totally forgot I volunteered to help out at the church this morning. Instead of getting up, I keep my eyes closed. “I should tell Grace I’ll be late. She probably already did everything last night anyway. Grace enjoys mornings—you know, like a psycho.”
I nearly jump out of my skin as Carter’s bedroom door flies open. I grab the blanket on top of us and yank it against my breasts, my heart stalling as I look up into the face of a middle-aged woman with copper-colored hair and a tired smile.
“Good morning, dear.” She glances at me and nods. “Carter’s friend.”
I blink, confounded by her calmness at finding a girl naked in her son’s bed. Surely this is Carter’s mom. She doesn’t resemble him much at all, but she called him dear.
Before another word can be said, a much smaller female hauls an armful of stuffed animals into the bedroom. Carter’s little sister is wearing a crown, a princess dress over her clothing, and blue sparkly eye shadow that has been smeared clear up to her tiny, dark eyebrows.
“Don’t I look pretty?” she demands.
Dutifully, Carter looks her over. “Looking sharp, kiddo. What are you all dressed up for?”
“Breakfast. My princess in the book Mama read me last night dresses up before she goes down to breakfast, so I did, too. Come on, it’s time to eat. Hi, bookstore lady,” she adds, an apparent afterthought.
Swallowing down my awkwardness, I offer a much more sheepish, “Hi, Chloe.”
Turning on her plastic sparkle heels, she announces, “I’m taking my animals down to breakfast, but we’ll save you guys a seat.”
“How considerate,” Carter says, dryly. “We’ll be down in a minute.”
We?
Carter’s mom flashes me a bland smile and pulls his door closed once Chloe vacates the room.
Wide-eyed, I prop myself up on an elbow and stare at Carter. “That was so weird.”
“What?”
My eyes widen even more. “That! Is your mom used to finding random girls in your bed?”
“She’s not used to it, but it’s not like she thinks I’m a virgin. House guests don’t bother her.” Drawing the blanket off his abdomen, he sits on the edge of the bed and stretches. “We should go downstairs. Chloe will come back up to get us if we take too long. She’s an assertive little shit.”