Sighing, Carter murmurs, “I’m already regretting this suggestion.” Glancing her way, he says, “How about instead of buying a fish today, we all watch The Little Mermaid when we get home?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she says, bouncing in her seat as she colors on her place setting.
Now that we’re all seated, Caroline says, “I’ll grab you guys a waitress. You’re actually in Marla’s section, but I’ll get you a different one.”
“Yes, please do,” Carter says.
As soon as Caroline walks away, I ask, “Who is Marla?”
“Number 19,” he offers back.
Oh. “Did you date, or…?”
“Or,” he answers, shooting me a little smirk and winking at me.
Shameless. Carter Mahoney is shameless.
Chapter 32
Having watched The Little Mermaid many times as a child, I watch the beginning until Chloe is engrossed and no longer paying me any attention, then I get on my phone and review some of my notes to prepare for class on Monday. Carter has cut way into my studying time and I have to work tomorrow. In preparation, I took pictures of all my notes and put them in a folder in my phone, that way if I got some free time by the register, I could study.
It turned out to be a great plan. By the time Ariel is getting married and living happily ever after, I feel a little less stressed about spending almost my whole entire weekend with Carter.
I am a little surprised I’m not sick of him yet, though. As much as I like Carter and find him interesting, spending this much time with someone without interruption is a lot. Most anyone would be getting on my nerves by now, but I’m still thoroughly enjoying Carter’s company.
“Can you hand me the remote?”
I’m sitting on the floor in front of the couch Carter is lying on. I only intend to glimpse at him before leaning forward to grab the remote control for him, but what I see makes my heart stop, drop, and roll right out of my body.
Chloe got sleepy while the movie was on, so she decided to lie down on Carter and use him as a makeshift bed. Currently, she is fast asleep like a little angel with one small arm curled around his neck. Her other hand is wrapped around his side so that she’s basically hugging him while she sleeps.
I can’t handle it. Instead of moving toward the end table where Carter put the remote before lying down with Chloe, I just sit here, half-turned, and stare.
“This is so adorable, I can’t stand it,” I inform him.
Carter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m losing feeling in my throwing arm—real adorable.”
Since he’s immobile with Chloe sleeping on him and he can’t stop me, I scoot back, turn around, and slide my phone to camera mode. I tap the screen to focus and take a picture of them.
“Are you gonna help me, or ogle me some more?” Carter asks when I’m done.
“I’m still deciding,” I admit. “Since you’ve probably impregnated me, my heart is seizing up at the image of you being so paternal with her.”
“I guess you won’t make me wear a condom tonight, huh?” he murmurs.
“No, I’m still gonna make you wear a condom,” I say, since I can’t be sure he’s joking. “This will surely get less endearing after I’ve lived as your unpaid nanny for a while and you’ve snuffed out all my aspirations and replaced them with baby diapers.”
“You’re cynical as hell about any chance of a future with me, aren’t you?”
“I’m not bein’ cynical, just realistic. Why doesn’t the prospect of teenage pregnancy scare you?” I ask, since he gave me a solid opening.
“Babies aren’t scary.”
“I know, they’re adorable, but they’re also an enormous responsibility, not to mention a lifelong commitment. You and I wouldn’t just be stuck tryin’ to live our lives around a newborn’s schedule, we would be stuck with each other forever. I’m not saying we couldn’t make it work, but it would be far from ideal, and I don’t understand why it doesn’t terrify you. It terrifies me.”
“Because you have it in your head it would ruin your life,” he says, simply.
“Why don’t you?” This is the part I don’t understand.
“Because I know it doesn’t.”
“How do you know that? Have you knocked a girl up before?”
His dark eyes shutter with something like annoyance. Instead of answering me, he braces a hand on Chloe’s back and sits up. Her little head lolls, but he stands and readjusts her weight. She stirs just enough to wrap her arms around his neck, but her eyes drift closed immediately and she rests her head on his shoulder.
“I’m taking her up to bed,” he tells me.
My hammering heart sinks down into my gut. It took so much courage to push that question out, and he’s ignoring it. It’s also a completely crazy question. Even if the answer turns out to be yes, it’s still a crazy thing to have to ask my 18-year-old boyfriend of roughly 3 minutes.