Chapter 6 #2
“That this was the first time we’d both been single since you were twenty and you wondered whether that would mean things would be different the next time we saw each other. I remember what you said.” He spoke quietly, his words exactly what I’d said.
I pulled my head back, needing to see his expression so I could have a chance of working out what he was thinking. Our eyes lined up, our lips just inches apart, arms still around each other. This wasn’t what friendship looked like, even with really good friends.
This wasn’t what friendship looked like. Or felt like.
Carter’s lips grazed mine softly, as if it was a test, making me wonder whether I’d imagined it. I hadn’t, I knew that when it happened again, this time less gentle, more real. My hands clutched his shirt as the kiss carried on, still tender, still teasing.
This was the third time we’d kissed, and I wondered if we’d ever talk about this one. We’d never mentioned that afternoon on Clapham Common, only the time when I’d kissed him as a dare.
This wasn’t like either of those times.
I was kissing Carter and it didn’t feel wrong or weird or like it was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. It felt like something had clicked; I wasn’t worried or doubting myself seven ways to sundown, I felt good.
More than good. Wishing we weren’t in public good.
But we were, so I pulled away, really not needing Harriet or Erin, or especially Fallon to see what had just happened.
Carter pressed his lips together, his face still close to mine. He was looking concerned, his gaze evaluating me as if I was an unpredictable storm
“That probably shouldn’t have happened.” He closed his eyes. “I’m glad it happened, I’ve been thinking about what you said the last time we spoke on the phone and whether things would be different and I wish they could be.”
“I don’t know what that means.” I gripped his shirt harder.
“I know, and that’ll be driving you mad.”
“Are you single?” I’d never known Carter to mess a girl or a woman about. He’d never cheated as far as I knew.
“Yes, but I’m not available and I need to explain, I know, but things are complicated for a few months.” He let go of me and stepped back, my hands peeling away from his shirt.
“So why did you kiss me?”
“Because I wanted to see how it felt.” He looked away from me, his expression tortured.
“How did it feel?”
“Like I wanted it to.” He lifted a hand to my hair and pulled at a curl lightly. “The same as it did when we were on Clapham Common.”
“We never talked about that. We pretended it didn’t happen.”
“I know. I wasn’t going to be around London much and I didn’t want us to end up in a long distance relationship – that wouldn’t have been fair on either of us.”
His words shocked me. “Was that what you thought would’ve happened?”
“I didn’t know if that was what you wanted. I was surprised you let me kiss you that day. I didn’t think you saw me like that.” For once, he looked awkward and unsure.
“I don’t think I had until then – saw you like that. But,” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now does it. What do you mean, you’re single but not available?”
“Can I tell you next week? I’m not trying to be secretive, it’s just I need to tell someone first I’m telling you, and telling you here isn’t a good idea.” He sounded almost angry. “I need us to be just friends for a bit and then see where we are.”
Sirens echoed in the distance, a cheer from inside muffled by the glass. I didn’t feel as discombobulated as I should’ve done.
“I think I need us to be friends for a bit too. I need to get my head around you being back and that we are both single at the same time.” I reached for his shirt again. “Why did you choose to come back.”
He stepped away. “I’m going to head home.”
“Carter, why did you come back?”
“Because of you.”
Of course, I didn’t sleep. I didn’t speak to Harriet that night about what happened mainly because I didn’t want to, but also because I slipped away from the party, briefly letting Erin know and texting Fallon and Harriet that I’d gotten home safe.
I curled up in bed with my latest book, but didn’t read any of it, wrapping myself around a hot water bottle and replaying every word and pause of the night.
He’d come back for me. That was what I wanted to hear. But there was something he wasn’t telling me – which I’d known already. A favour for a friend that I would’ve persuaded him not to do. Or maybe not. I didn’t have the full details.
But I did have details of how he kissed now, as a man and not a teenaged boy, and those details were living in my head rent free for the foreseeable.
I imagined if we’d have been here when we’d kissed, and what would’ve happened then? I imagined the same thing happening in another few months’ time, if some things had changed, and I didn’t need a hot water bottle anymore.
My imagination was interrupted by my phone vibrating.
A text from Carter.
I hope you got home safe. I promise I’ll tell you more, but can we still be friends? X
I read it twice, stared at the kiss, cursed him for interrupting.
Yes. We can always be friends, even if it can’t be more X