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Authors: Lisa Burstein

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Chapter Thirty

Carter

I
was startled by a knock at my door. A law book lay on my bare chest as I stared
at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t do anything but
feel Kate’s hand on me.  

After
dinner and a longer than usual good-bye with Kate, I’d gone back to my room
alone. I should have invited her back, but as good as it felt being with her,
there was a part of me that knew it was wrong considering everything that had
happened with Jeanie.

Kate
made me forget my guilt, if only for a moment. I was still trying to decide if
I deserved that reprieve.

I
looked at the clock—it was well after midnight—probably someone with a noise
complaint.

I
stretched, yawned, and they knocked again, more forcefully.

I
rose from the bed. I tried not to hope it was Kate, but the thought was like
wind trying to bluster past what my mind crammed down. I pulled open the door.

She stood
in the hall in a tight white T-shirt and a pair of even tighter yoga pants, my
denied fantasies becoming real.

Considering
she wasn’t wearing a bra, my fantasy wasn’t even close to how amazing real was.
I couldn’t stop looking at her perfect tits curving through the fabric, her
nipples popped at attention and begging for me to put one of them in my mouth.

My
pulse thumped in my groin.

“I
came to finish what we started,” she said, pushing past me into the room. “And
I’m stone cold sober, so don’t even ask.”

I
finally managed to shut the door and my mouth as she settled herself on the
edge of my bed. Her hair was down and flicking like golden flames against her
shoulders, her eyes wide and firmly fixed on mine.

“Maybe
I’m coming on too strong,” she said, “but I couldn’t sleep and I kind of
thought after the car today, you probably couldn’t either.”

Any
questions I had fell away. The certainty she had to be mine became my only
answer.

“I
never want to finish what we started,” I said, the words the only truth that
mattered in that moment, “I never want this to be over.”

My
body could do nothing but move next to her on the bed and kiss her. My
heartbeat seemed to make the mattress vibrate below us. It was the only thing I
could hear, her breath and my heart and our lips and tongues swirling against
each other at the same tempo.

“This
is progress,” she said, pulling back to cup my cheekbone.

I
considered telling her why I hadn’t been able to go through with what she was
pushing for.  Why I’d made her stop earlier—the reason aside from my past. Because
it had been so long since I’d been with someone, the thought of it was almost
too much to take.

When
she touched me earlier I almost exploded. So not cool. So not the guy I hoped
to be for her. But that would have made me feel like a child, like someone she
needed to lead.

She
deserved to know how badly I wanted her, too. She wasn’t pushing me to do
anything.

I
ran my thumb along her palm, against each finger, her blood sliding hot as lava
underneath. I kissed her again and took her shirt off in one quick motion. I
ran my hands over her tits. The skin was so soft, her nipples getting harder as
I stroked, seeming to beg for me as my fingers wandered. She let out a moan that
echoed in the back of my throat, her tongue pushed against mine, hungrier,
harder.

Her
penetrating kisses became as insistent as the only words in my head—
I need
to be inside her
.

Our
bodies fell against each other with no barriers, only hot, searching skin.

Just
the two people we were when we were alone together.

No
pasts, no secrets, solely enveloped by the truth of our need, our want.

She
pulled back and curved her hands over the muscles of my chest like she was
trying to cement her decision. I was glad she stopped. I didn’t want this to
end too quickly for a lot of reasons. The least of which was embarrassing
myself.

She
rose from the bed and stood in front of me, allowing me to take her in.

Her
half-naked visage was too much, I had to touch her again, the pull as raw as
hunger.

Forget
going slow. I reached out for her, the temptation seared like a hot poker in my
groin.

She
shook her head and slid off her pants, revealing she wasn’t even wearing
panties. A rush ran through me, so strong I could barely breathe. She’d known
exactly what she wanted to do when she walked down our dorm hallway.

I
made myself inhale and exhale. She was way too hot for me to keep my cool, but
I had to try. I could barely sit still, barely speak. “Wow,” I said my eyes
darting seemingly everywhere, to her smooth stomach, the bow-like curve of her
tits and ass, her long legs, her gentle shoulder blades, and back again to those
perfect tits.

“I
told you you’d never forget.”

“I
mean it,” I replied, practically whistling.

“Just
FYI,” she smiled. “I haven’t been wearing them all day.” She indicated her
empty pants below her.

“If
I would have known I would never have been able to stop you earlier.” It was
true. I was drowning now with her next to me, so ready, so willing.

So
mine.

“No,
I’m glad you did,” she said. “This is perfect.”

Feasting
on her silhouette against my desk lamp, I had to admit it was.


You
are perfect,” I said, standing to join her.

She
went for the button of my pants, her eyes glued to mine, wanting to enjoy my
reaction as she took me into her hand.

My
whole body trembled at her touch, but this time I would be able to do something
about it. I was dizzy as she continued to stroke me, a flash that made me
blind. It’s not like I’d been a monk for three years, but I hadn’t been with
anyone else. Having
her
hands on me was like a drug I hadn’t even known
I was addicted to.

I
couldn’t wait anymore. I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around me as I
entered her. Her soft warmth was searing and shook me. With each thrust I felt
more and more like I was floating, flying, like she was holding
me
above
the ground. The two of us were suspended in each other, like a tornado,
spinning.

Her
breath quickened. Her chin on my shoulder, her lips on my neck. “More,” she
said, her words no match for my pumping jugular.

I
obliged, giving her everything. Thrashing against her with so much force the
back of my thighs ached, my hips burned. She was about to come. I pulled back,
teasing her, teasing myself. She bit down on my shoulder and wailed seconds before
her whole body shook. I echoed, coming like a freight train, three weeks of
want and three years of isolation hitting me all at once.

I
held her against me, listening to her breath—there was nothing else but her and
me in this whole world. 

I
kissed her lightly, tasting her mouth. “That was worth waiting for.”

She
could have no idea I’d meant for more than our three week ballet. I’d meant all
my three years of solitude. I’d meant all my life.  

Her brown
eyes were wild and shining, her cheeks blushed pink as if she was my palette
and my touch was her paint.

My
drought,
as Tristan had called it, needed to be broken by a woman deserving of a flood.
Who could make me drown and save me simultaneously.

“Worth
doing again?” she asked, snaking her hand down to see if I was ready.

In
seconds I was. She pulled me back inside her, her breath catching.

“More,”
I growled, carrying her to the bed.

She
forced me against the mattress and kneeled above me, sliding me in deeper and
deeper. I pressed against her, my back bent up from the bed, my body straining
with the best kind of pain.

Her
hair tousled around her. She closed her eyes as she bucked against me. I kept
mine open. I needed to see everything. It was true there was no way I would
forget, but I wanted to remember.

She
licked her lips, her breath intensifying in rising waves.

I
took her tits in my hands, squeezed them in beat with her movements. She
quickened against me, the pressure inside me was about to go. I held back.
Waiting to explode exactly when she did, to be taken away in yet another flawless
moment with the most perfect woman I'd ever known.

 

Chapter Thirty-one

Kate

My
phone was going off like crazy. Carter slept next to me, his naked body tangled
up in the sheets.

I
didn’t want to answer it. Being with Carter was like there was nothing else in the
world but our bodies. He dissolved all of the noise and confusion and bullshit
from the outside. I wasn’t ready to hear whatever was trying to break in via
phone.

I
had enough trouble with everything trying to break through every other way
anyway.

I
turned over and ignored it, but it kept ringing.
Crap.
I could have shut
it off, but when someone called you again and again there was a reason and it usually
wasn’t a good one. I jumped out of bed still naked, stumbling the way you can only
when you have been in someone else’s bed.

I
wasn’t sure if it was Carter’s age or his voraciousness, but the more he wanted
me the more I wanted him. The more he gave, the more I tried to give.

With
David it always felt like duty, with Carter it was all about desire.

I
picked up the phone and squinted at the sudden light from it. Five missed calls
from Veronica. I hoped everything was okay. I quickly snuck into Carter’s
private bathroom and closed the door before I called her back.

“Finally,”
her voice slurred, coming over the line of the phone in a breathy ooze.

Phew
.
Not bad news.
I
forgot about the other reason someone could and would call you like crazy at five
o-clock a.m.: they were drunk-dialing you.

“Hey,
what’s up?” I asked quickly, quietly, my body emptying of fear and filling with
anxiety. Like when you’re playing hide and seek as a kid, an almost sensual
terror of being caught.

But
who was I trying to hide, Carter from Veronica? Or even more troubling, Veronica
from Carter?

“Were
you sleeping?”

Why
was this always what someone asked when they woke you up?

“Not
anymore,” I mumbled, deciding not to give her shit about it. She might have
been pretty sure I’d been sleeping, but she could have had no idea I wasn’t
alone. “Are you okay?” I asked, because there was something else in her voice
aside from drunkenness: sadness.

“If
you call the shitty date I had okay, I guess I am,” her voice barreled out like
a car without breaks.

I’d
kind of forgotten I wasn’t the only one going through shit. Veronica was living
her life too. Her
real
life, not the fake one she’d made up so she could
escape.

And
real life was filled with shitty stuff. Shitty stuff you actually had to deal
with, not run away from like I was trying to.

“Where
are you?” I asked. 

“His
bathroom,” she replied.

I
almost answered
me too.
Oh, the irony I couldn’t share. How could I tell
her about Carter? I couldn’t.

I
mean, I could have if he was just a fling, but I cared about him. If fate valued
me more than she seemed to, she would have put me at this school as an actual
freshman his freshman year, so maybe we could have saved each other.

“Terrible
date, even more terrible sex,” she continued. “At least he had a bottle of
vodka in his freezer. I need to get out of here.”

“Why
don’t you get a cab?”

“No,”
she replied, like I was stupid, “Out. Of. Here. I’m coming to visit you next
weekend. I bought my ticket and everything.”

My
heart seemed to wobble—an odd rise, then fall—nausea leaked all the way to my
toes. I wanted to see Veronica—missed her like crazy, but what would she think
when she came here and saw me?

The
me I was now.

When
she realized I actually liked Carter and he wasn’t just a frat-boy fuck. That I
was “friends” with someone like Dawn. That I was sober and getting good grades,
for the moment at least.

Veronica
never believed I needed to quit drinking. She’d said I needed to be better at
it. I couldn’t help but wonder if my badness in the drunk department just made
her feel better about herself.

“Hello?”
she said, not like we’d been disconnected, like I was ignoring her.

“I
can’t wait,” I managed to get out. I had a week to worry about it. I could
sound excited with her on the phone.

“I
have to take the bus. Can you believe it? There isn’t even a train to Kingston.
What kind of Podunk town are you in?”

“It’s
small.”

“If
I get killed while I’m waiting at Port Authority it’s your fault,” she said
with a hearty laugh.

“Did
you get a hotel too?” I asked casually. “We can stay there together.”

Maybe
I could keep her out of the dorm and away from Dawn. Who was I kidding? Away
from Carter.

“Don’t
even try it,” she said. “You’re not the only one who’s going to get a bit of
the college treatment, the
whole
treatment.”

I
knew exactly what she meant. What I’d experienced weekend one—a party, the kind
of place where not following the rules was the rule. When you’re coming from
where she was—adulthood—a place where everyone has a regulation for you to
follow, how could you not crave that?

“I’m
not drinking or anything, it’s not like a nonstop celebration here,” I tried.

“Compared
to my life right now,” she said, “anything would feel like one.”

I
breathed out. I would never win this fight.

“Don’t
worry. I can say I’m your older sister. I won’t blow your cover.”

I
remembered all the lies I’d told. How she would have to tell them now, too. “If
you’re my sister you should know our parents are dead. I’m nineteen and I got
kicked out of my old school. Oh, also, my old roommate was a Mormon.”

I
heard her laugh again. “Damn, you’ve been busy.”

She
had no idea.

After
I hung up, I walked back into the room trying to shove away the complications
Veronica’s visit would create. The sun was starting to rise. Carter stirred in
the bed, his eyes like the antidote to everything plaguing me.

“You’re
still here,” he said, the heaviness of sleep in his voice, of praying I wasn’t
just a dream.

“I
am, but I should probably go soon,” I said. I didn’t want to leave, but if we’d
had to hide what was happening when we were walking back to the dorm together,
we’d definitely have to hide what had happened last night

“Can
we have a few more minutes before real life starts?” he asked, pulling the
sheet down for me to join him and revealing his whole beautiful body. My gaze
traveled along his shoulders, down the firm curve of his chest, the hollow of
his navel.

How
could I say no?

I
wished we had a few more hours, a few more years, before real life had to start.
I snuggled in, smelling sweat and sex and the aftershave they advertised on MTV
that was now familiar instead of foreign.

“I shouldn’t
t fall asleep,” I said.

“I
won’t let you,” he replied, the vibration of his voice drumming against my side.
He moved his fingers from the skin next to my breast all the way down my torso,
tracing my curves, a move that tickled and sizzled.

“Wow,
you are voracious,” I laughed.

“When
I find something I like,” he said, “I don’t waste it.” The sunlight sparkled
around his blond hair as he leaned in and kissed me, deep and long, sending coils
of need through me.

He
pulled back and watched me, took me in like a drink for a thirst he didn’t even
know he had.

“I
also don’t take what I like for granted,” he said, brushing two fingers down
along my jawline.

Something
about those words hurt in the place that Old Kate still survived. I realized
that even living what, in all ways, was a fake life, New Kate had found
something more real than she’d ever known.

It
didn’t seem right to have it dirtied by a lie.

A
lie I didn’t have to keep telling,
completely.

I
might not be able to tell Carter everything, but I could say the main thing—the
only real stumbling block between us being us—who I truly was.

I
could share who the Kate I’d been hiding underneath had been.

“I
need to tell you something.”

“Anything,”
he replied.

“When
you hear it you might not agree,” I stalled.

“You
can tell me”—he paused—“anything.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

I breathed
out, pulled the sheets to my chin. “I’m not who you think I am,” I tried at
first.

“What
are you, working undercover or something?” he laughed.

“Um,”
I bit my lip. “That would be a better explanation than what’s really going on.”

His
eyes were wide and expectant.

“Well,
for starters, my parents aren’t dead,” I said.

“What?”
he asked, like he’d been spooked by a ghost. He pulled away from me like I was
a stranger in his bed.

“My
mom is still alive, and yes,” I added, “sometimes I do wish she was dead. I
don’t know my father.”

“I
don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “Why would you lie?”

“I
came here to start over,” I said, giving him a little more, “and when you asked
me about my parents I wasn’t prepared, so I just kind of said it.”

“I
know all about wanting to start over,” he said, “but that’s…”

“I’m
sorry I lied to you,” I interrupted, “but I couldn’t have known we’d end up
here.”

“No,”
he said, “neither of us could have.”

“I
actually like you,” I said, “and because of that I don’t want to keep lying
about this. I failed out of my last school. Crashed and burned in a heap of
alcohol and bad decisions. I’ve been crashing ever since. It was either come back
to college and try again, or go to rehab,” I added, giving him a little more—more
truth than I’d ever given. “I chose school.”

There
was something I couldn’t identify in his eyes, but it wasn’t anger.

“You
made the right choice,” he said, drawing me in to him.

“I am
me in all the ways that count. I’m just a new version, if that makes sense.”

“Oddly,”
he said, moving his lips to my scalp, “it does.”

“I
was such a mess,” I said, opening the spout to a place inside me I’d never
shown anyone, “my only choice felt like starting over again. It was, like, all
I had left. It was continue to make the same bad decisions or make totally new
better ones, as a new better person.”

“It’s
okay. You don’t have to keep going. I honestly get it.”

I hugged
him. Having given him even a part of my truth was soothing. He didn’t know everything,
but he knew a lot. If we stayed together, if what we had kept growing, I’d tell
him the rest.

I
had to keep my age-disguise intact for now at least, because as important as
Carter seemed, my possible scholarship, my second chance, was even more so.

“Do
you have anything to tell me?” I asked, thinking of his freshman year. A time I
could tell he’d been desperate to move on from, desperate to hide away.

He
was silent. His eyes distant like uncharted seas on an old treasure map.

“Now’s
your chance,” I said. I could tell there was something there. I touched his
face, trying to bring him back to me.

He
shook his head, embraced me tighter. “Just that I never want to let you go.”

Could I have been wrong about his silences, his furtive glances?
Could what he had done not been such a big deal at all?

“That’s
no secret,” I said, running my finger along his lips.

“You
know me, Kate,” he said, taking my hand, squeezing his around it, “better than
anyone ever has, or probably ever will.”

I
guess I had been the only one keeping a secret. At least the worst of it was
out.

I
slipped out into the hallway and closed Carter’s door quietly behind me. I was
trying my best to be stealthy with my disheveled clothes and even more
disheveled hair. Unfortunately, there was nothing clandestine about me. I was
basically wearing a sandwich board over my shoulders reading
I got laid.

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