Chapter Twenty-Two
How Wrong You Are
Livia
Three days passed without seeing Carter in person, but he made sure I didn’t forget him.
I threw myself into work for the rest of the week, burying my head in numbers, emails, and meetings until my eyes burned.
Still, he had a way of slipping in. A text waiting for me every time I stepped out for a coffee run.
A bag of Thai takeout delivered to my door after a twelve-hour day, no note except Eat, Coach.
A late-night call when I was already in bed, his voice low and lazy as he complained about how bored he was on break, yapping about absolutely nothing until I finally told him to hang up and go to sleep.
But it was the third day that he really got under my skin.
First it was a smug selfie on the golf course, his arm slung around one of his teammates, the other holding up a gaudy little trophy like he’d just won the Masters instead of whatever beer-fueled scramble they’d been playing.
Something about his goofy, care-free grin, and the fact that he’d wanted to text me had an unbidden smile spreading on my face.
It was like he was a proud cat with a mouse in his teeth prancing over to show his owner.
I loved that he thought of me, that he wanted to brag to me, to show me how well he’d done.
And then I’d promptly scolded myself for feeling anything at all.
Then, hours later, when I thought I finally had a hold on my emotions, another photo came through — this one darker and grainier. It was him, Jaxson, and some rookies I wasn’t too familiar with at a bar, drinks in hand, neon lights bleeding into the frame. The text beneath it read:
Carter: Alright, Coach. Think I’m ready for the big leagues? We’re at Boomer’s and there’s a whole group of women trying to get behind the ropes of our VIP section. Should I try to land one and take her home?
The heat that flared in my chest was immediate and uninvited — sharp, hot, and blatantly territorial. He was acting in accordance with our contract, asking me for permission before he pursued anyone else.
But I was pissed he even wanted to.
I rolled my eyes and typed back with a fury I didn’t know I possessed.
Me: Bold of you to think you’re ready for that. Come here and I’ll show you exactly how wrong you are.
He’d showed up an hour later.
I had him bound before he could get a word out, delivering a firm smack to his ass as punishment for even suggesting another woman could fill my role.
He’d only grinned, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss before murmuring words that tilted my whole world.
“Come on, now. You know I don’t actually want anyone else. I just wanted your attention. And I got it.”
I’d reacted with another sharp smack on his ass, this one more for me than him, because damned if I didn’t smile.
Damned if I didn’t like hearing that he only wanted me.
Now, it was Valentine’s Day — my least favorite holiday in the fucking world. And since my best friend had a husband now, our tradition of ordering takeout and binge-watching Bravo shows had taken a backseat to her getting some real romantic action.
I wasn’t mad at her for it, though. In fact, it’d been me who’d had to help her get her head out of her ass and move past her trauma to let Vince in. And I’d been happy to do it.
But it didn’t change the fact that Valentine’s Day sucked.
Which was why I’d entertained Carter’s text this morning asking me what I was up to, if I wanted to hang out. Let’s have a lazy non-romantic bum day off, he’d proposed.
And like an idiot, I’d said yes.
I played it off like I was just bored and had nothing better to do. The truth was I didn’t want to be alone on this dumb holiday.
And I wanted to see him.
So here we were, both of us on Carter’s couch, him kicked back on one end watching a golf documentary, and me with my feet in his lap, pliers in hand as I bent a stubborn jump ring into place.
The delicate chain was cool against my fingertips, the gemstones clicking softly together every time I shifted them.
A little pile of extra links and beads rested in a dish at my side, catching the lamplight as I worked on the bracelet I was set to give Chloe as a wedding gift when she and Will returned from their trip.
Zamboni was snuggled between me and the back of the couch, snoozing away with his head on my stomach.
We’d had a lazy day just as Carter suggested.
He’d arranged at-home massages for us, which I didn’t realize I needed so terribly until I was a sated bag of bones afterward.
There was a quick group FaceTime call after with Chloe and Will, long enough for them to show us their luxury hotel room right on the water before bidding us adieu until their elopement party once they were back.
Then, Carter had made us a ridiculous snack board from all the random things in his pantry, from Zebra cakes and popcorn to aged cheddar cheese and garlic olives.
We’d laid in the sun, watching the boats drift by in the canal behind his house.
I’d taken a nap while Carter played video games.
When I woke up, we went for a long, slow walk with Zamboni, throwing a Frisbee at the park until he ran out all his energy.
And now, the evening was winding down, the sun set, our bellies full of the Mexican food we’d had delivered — along with cookies from Bake’n Babes — and I was as happy as a royal pet as we did our own separate things, quietly, together.
“I’m glad we did this.”
Carter’s voice shook me out of my jewelry-making meditation, his hand squeezing my ankle in his lap. It was too intimate, the way I let him hold me like that, and yet I was powerless to fight against it tonight.
Because I was glad, too.
I was glad to not be alone. I was glad to feel so cozy and warm inside his little house on the water. I was glad to have my feet in his lap and his dog’s head in mine.
I’d never had it like this with a man. I’d never let them get close enough to even try.
I smiled, eyes still on the delicate chain and stones in my hand. “It wasn’t a terrible day.”
“Whoa, easy there. I might think you actually like spending time with me.”
I snorted, setting another bead on the chain. “Don’t push your luck. But, speaking of people I actually do like spending time with, how was your day with Ava the other day? I have her tomorrow, and I’m thinking manis and pedis are in order.”
“You know she’ll love that. As long as you let her get hockey pucks painted on her nails, anyway,” Carter said.
Will and Chloe were on their elopement trip, and as a group, we’d convinced them to leave Ava here with us.
We knew how much they loved her and wanted her to be a part of their union, but we also knew the two of them needed some alone time to celebrate first. So, as a team, we’d planned to make sure Ava was cared for in their absence.
“My day with her was pretty low key. She wanted to get on the ice and practice, so I took her to the rink out in Wesley Chapel.”
“Isn’t that against the rules of the league? You’re not supposed to practice right now, are you?”
“It wasn’t me who was practicing. Besides, no one has to know — least of all Coach, who would probably pull me off the ice by the ear if he found out.”
I chuckled. “Well, I’m sure she had fun, but I bet she’s bouncing off the walls waiting for Chloe and Will to get home.”
Carter snorted. “Or praying they don’t. Mia Love has been her nanny all week and she’s had the rest of us to entertain her twenty-four-seven — pretty sure that kid’s living her best life.”
“True. She’s probably hoping her parents extend their trip another month.”
Carter’s grin softened. “She really is a good kid, though. If I ever had one, I’d want one just like her.”
The comment startled me. My eyes flicked up, but Carter was watching the screen again now, like the statement was a flippant one, and not the kind that sank my stomach to the floor like an anchor.
“Do you…want kids?” I asked carefully.
I couldn’t understand the feeling that swirled through me when I asked, the way my chest tightened and my fingers stilled where I was working on the bracelet.
But before I could digest any of it, Carter let out a short laugh — one of half amusement, half disbelief.
“Me? God, no. I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head as a bigger laugh tumbled out.
“I can barely keep this one alive.” He roughly scrubbed Zamboni’s head then, who peeked one eye open before letting out a huff and closing it again.
“I still forget to do laundry until I’m out of socks,” Carter continued.
“I feel like a kid myself most days. And I’m in therapy, still trying to figure my own shit out.
” He waved a hand over me. “Case in point, our little arrangement. The idea of being responsible for another human, of possibly causing the trauma that they have to go to therapy for one day? That’s terrifying. ”
The sound of his laugh lingered, bright and easy, but it twisted like a rusty knife in my gut.
Carter didn’t notice as he added, “Besides, it’s not like I’ve even managed to land a girl for a date. Dad material, I am not.”
My stomach soured. I pressed my lips together, hiding the sting, tucking my truth safely away. It wasn’t like I was really considering telling him my own plans, to freeze my eggs and have a kid on my own one day, but if the inkling had been there, it was eviscerated now.
If he only knew the real trauma I held onto from my own parents, he would surely think I was certifiably insane to want a child of my own.
He looked like he was ready to ask, the words right on the tip of his tongue, but I redirected us before he had the chance.
“I’m surprised you didn’t take a vacation or something for your break,” I said, guiding us back to solid ground.
Carter looked at me a long moment, like he didn’t want to drop the previous conversation yet, but he must have read my cue, because he didn’t press.
Instead, his eyes floated back to the screen as he shrugged.
“Nah, nowhere I really want to go. Besides, we’re still in season. I didn’t want to clock out too much.”
“Is that why our lazy bum day had to wait to start until after you ran five miles and got in a workout?”
“Listen, I’m playing the best I ever have, in large part thanks to you,” he added with a little wink, as if it was nothing, as if those words didn’t light me up like a firework. “And I’m not about to lose that momentum. I want the playoffs. I want the Cup.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“That I want to win it all?” He scoffed. “Hell yeah. I know a lot of people don’t think we have it this year, that since we won a couple years ago, it’s not our time. But even though we’ve had some players leave, I still feel like—”
“I meant the other part,” I said, cutting him short. “That you think you’re playing your best because of what we’ve been doing.”
Carter’s expression was strange, something between a frown and a smile like he couldn’t believe I was even asking. He grabbed the remote to pause the documentary, turning to face me fully.
“You’re seriously asking that?”
“I’m sure it’s your therapist, and Coach, and all the drills—”
“Liv, I one hundred percent am playing at my best because of you.”
Why was my throat constricting?
Why did my heart feel like it was going to fly away?
“But it’s just been sex.”
“To you, maybe,” he said, another unreadable expression washing over his face.
“But everything you’ve said, everything you’ve allowed me to feel…
it’s unlocked something in me. I’m not overthinking.
I’m taking control when I need to, without hesitation, but also falling back and letting my other teammates lead when they have the momentum.
I’m acting on instinct for the first time since I was a kid.
” He shook his head. “I can’t put it into words, but I know it’s from this.
From us.” He smiled, squeezing my ankle again. “From you.”
There was no fighting my own smile that mirrored his. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
“Best two mil I’ve ever spent.”
“You spend two mil often?”
“Never before in my life, but I’m still certain.”
I chuckled, but there was a question heavy in my heart after hearing him say all that, one that felt like sludge as I tried to speak. “Speaking of which… I feel like we should check in. How are you feeling? Do you think… maybe you’re ready to graduate?”
Carter’s smile fell, but he recovered quickly. “I mean, I don’t think I’m the one who gets to decide that, Professor.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t ignore how my stomach flipped that he didn’t say yes, that he still wanted to do whatever it was we were doing.
This is dangerous, a voice inside me warned. Don’t be stupid.
Business transaction.
Means to an end.
Freeze eggs.
Set up life.
But it was Valentine’s Day.
Who called off a kinky sex arrangement on the holiday of love?
“True,” I finally said, heart picking up its pace as I set my jewelry to the side. “Then that leads me to my next question.”
Carter cocked a brow, waiting.
“Is playtime included in this whole lazy day itinerary?”
My smirk was wicked, and instantly, I felt Carter harden under where my legs were in his lap. He hummed, hand traveling up the inside of my shin, my knee, my thigh.
“You can play with me anytime you want, Liv,” he promised.
I leaned up, meeting him in the middle, my lips dangerously close to his. “Then take me to the biggest mirror you have and lose the clothes, Rook.”