Chapter 34 When You Change the Rules
WHEN YOU CHANGE THE RULES
We barely made it into the condo before my hands were tearing at Carter’s clothing. I needed him. I needed to feel his body pressed against mine. His mouth on my breast. I wanted to remember the tautness of his muscles under his tanned skin. Hear the way my name sounded coming from his lips.
Carter pressed me against the wall. His hands slid up my shirt and cupped my breast through the lace of my bra.
I worked the clasp on his belt. Carter and I didn’t do the softness of sex.
We did it to forget. To fulfill a need. And right now, I needed not to think about Tristan.
We moved from the wall to the bedroom. I was desperate for him to be deep inside of me, to be grounded to him and not Tristan.
My hands shook as I undid the buttons of his pants.
His cock was hard in my hand. He didn’t bother with my skirt or the buttons on my shirt.
His fingers dug into my hips as he pressed into me hard.
His teeth nipped my bottom lip, and his pants were soft against the inside of my thigh.
I clawed at his back and ass, wanting him closer.
Wanting him to fix me. To mend the places where I was breaking.
His breath was uneven on my neck, and my name sounded like a curse as he said it. My climax racing up my body filled my brain with all the chemicals that would make me feel okay. Make me not miss Tristan and the way fucking him made me feel.
Tristan. I hated that name as much as I loved it. I hated him as much as I loved him. My thoughts spun out of control. I wouldn’t survive this without him. I would die of a broken heart. And as if he sensed I was slipping, Carter wrapped his hand in my hair and tugged my head back.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
I did. I chose to focus on him. The cords of muscle in his neck and shoulders.
The sound of his breath. His mouth, with its sharp points and fullness.
I floated back down to him. My thoughts scattered with each thrust. The muscles in his shoulders tightened as his breath hitched.
My thoughts stopped, and I crashed with him. Into whatever we were.
Carter collapsed next to me, both our breaths unsteady. This was the part I hated. The part where we rolled over and went to sleep or he got up and showered. I’d lie there alone, without the warmth of love and the sound of another heartbeat. Because we weren’t in love.
But this time, instead of leaving me, he pulled me into his arms and nuzzled my neck.
Carter and I didn’t talk about the messes that had shaped us.
There was no need to. We were a just-under-the-surface couple, not shallow, but not deep enough to feel a connection.
But he, lying here with me, felt dangerously close to sinking deeper.
“I got a job offer in California,” he said.
I twisted to face him. I loved it when he looked like this. Not so put together. His dark hair was a mess, his shirt untucked, his mouth swollen from kissing me. “Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know you were looking for one.” This was where we ended. That’s what this was about. Endings.
“I wasn’t. A recruiter approached me. UCSF has an opening on their board of directors. They’d like to meet with me.”
“Wow. That’s great, right?”
“Yes. It’s more money, a bigger hospital. And it’s in San Francisco.” He brushed my hair from my face. “I want you to come with me.”
That was more of a shock than the new job. Carter and I never discussed any sort of future. I always assumed it would just end. He’d move on or find whatever it was he needed. And I’d be alone again. Though, I hoped at thirty-one, I’d be past being brokenhearted over men.
“Well?”
“Can I think about it?” That was probably not the right thing to say. “I mean, I have a job I love.” I wanted to make sure that was clear. Not that part of me still hoped that one day I would be at a bar or a café and see Tristan again.
“Of course. I’m leaving in a couple days for the meeting. You’re welcome to come with. Check out the city. Maybe apartments?”
This was not the Carter I was used to. We didn’t do this. We didn’t make plans for the future. We didn’t do messy. Sometimes I wanted to. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me. And I wanted to love him for him. Not because I was running from my past.
Christ, I needed a therapist.
“I… I don’t… We never talked about this. About us.”
“I know. But I realized tonight that I like having you around. I like your friends. And what we have. And I don’t want to start again. You’re easy.”
“I don’t think that came out like you wanted it to.”
“Well, considering we just fucked fully clothed, I’d say we’re both easy.” He touched my cheek. “I mean being with you is easy. I’m tired. I want to have a soft place to land each night. I want you to be that soft place.”
If I was honest with myself, I wanted that too.
I was tired of hurting, waiting for something that was never going to happen.
I kissed him softly on the mouth. He pulled me closer, running his hands through my hair and down my back.
He unbuttoned my shirt and helped me step out of my skirt.
Then he undressed and led me into the bathroom. He kissed me again gently.
In the shower he kissed my neck, the swell of my breast, the hollow of my stomach. I let the hot water and Carter’s mouth ease the stress from my body. And when I couldn’t catch my breath and my body begged for his, he carried me to the bedroom.
And this time when he pressed into me, it wasn’t desperation to forget the past but to prove we were okay. That we could do this. This was new for us. For me.
And it scared the shit out of me.