Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
They’re all dicks. I want to go home.
Without asking, I know Carter won’t let me. I know I could probably force the issue, but it wouldn’t be pleasant, and it probably wouldn’t be worth the fight. Maybe I can text my mom on the sly and ask her to send me an emergency message of some kind to bail me out.
No, what am I saying? She knows I’m with Carter tonight; she won’t help.
Maybe Grace.
If both of those options fail, I can text Pastor James. Hell, if I really need to, I can ask him to come pick me up from Carter’s house. Carter holds a lot of influence in this town, but so does the church. How likely is it Carter will blatantly stop my pastor from giving me a safe ride home?
We all wander quietly to the register, then back out to Carter’s car. It’s not actually his car tonight, he drove a red Escalade from his dad’s dealership since his Mustang isn’t exactly roomy enough for five people. Erika refuses to budge. Her attitude is the loudest thing in the car as Carter drives us away from the store. The only other sound we hear is the rustling of bags when Cartwright proves too hungry to wait for snacks, but other than that, dead silence.
I’m debating telling Carter I’d like for him to take me home when he turns onto Erika’s road. I sit up a little straighter, a little more alert, and sure enough, he coasts to a stop in front of Erika’s house.
After a moment of stunned silence, she demands, “Are you serious?”
“Do I bluff?” Carter asks simply.
Erika laugh-scoffs, looking to her friends for support, clearly expecting them to tell Carter he’s being a little harsh, and he shouldn’t kick her out of the group hang. That does not happen, though. Cartwright’s eyeballs are glued to his cell phone screen and he pretends he doesn’t notice what’s happening. Brianna picks at invisible lint on her jeans.
“Wow, that’s real nice,” Erika mutters, before finally shoving the back door open and climbing out.
“Learn to play nice, or lose your invitation permanently,” Carter tells her.
“Fuck you,” she flings back at him. “Next time your prude girlfriend leaves you hard-up after some heavy petting, you better call Brianna to get you off, not me. Asshole,” she mutters, before slamming the door and storming up to her front door.
My stomach sinks and my heart kicks into overdrive. What the hell does that mean? Has Carter been with Erika since we got together? I guess we’re only sort of together, we haven’t said anything official, but…
It takes a few seconds before I work up the nerve to look over at Carter in the driver’s seat. He’s massaging the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed.
I turn my gaze back to the road and tell myself not to read too much into it, but I feel my investment in Carter Mahoney dropping like a rock. After all the shit he fed me about how men like him only cheat when they’re not afraid to lose the woman, what other conclusion can I possibly draw if he’s sleeping with his ex behind my back? He certainly hasn’t mentioned that to me, and she implied he turned to her after I left him unsatisfied. There has only been one time he got me off and I didn’t return the favor, and at that point in our journey toward a relationship, official or not, I would have expected him not to sleep with anyone else.
Not unless I’m just a conquest, anyway.
“I’d like to go home, too,” I finally tell him, breaking the silence.
“No,” Carter says immediately, dropping his hand and looking over at me.
“I wasn’t asking for permission,” I inform him. “I’m sorry if that was unclear.”
“Zoey, this is exactly what she wanted. Come on, you know that.”
Not a denial.
Since I know his track record of respecting my wishes, I don’t waste this opportunity to get away. There are better witnesses present this time, so he can’t force his will on me.
I push open the passenger door and climb out. I’m not that far from home, I can just walk.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, throwing his door open and coming out after me. “I did not sleep with her, Zoey.”
“You’re a minute too late in sayin’ that, Carter.”
“I assumed you were smart enough to see through her bullshit,” he states, coming around the car and grabbing my arm to stop me.
“Don’t do that,” I say, shaking my head. “Don’t act like the only reason to believe what she said is stupidity. What she said was damn specific. That she got you off when I didn’t after some heavy petting. That’s an awfully accurate description of the part of our date that I was there for. That’s a hell of a guess, Carter.”