Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Kelsey
“You’re an idiot,” I tell Nash as he pauses midway through his story about the time he and his Army buddies decided to try heliskiing.
I’m only half listening, but any time Nash is this excited about a story, there’s almost no doubt in my mind that calling him an idiot is the correct answer.
He laughs good-naturedly before diving back into his tale, not noticing he has almost none of my attention. Instead, I’m focused on the man across the aisle.
Carter didn’t come up to my room last night. I stayed awake way longer than I should’ve, expecting every sound from the hallway to be him, every buzz of my phone to be a text asking to come join me, but nothing.
I don’t know what to do with his silence. It’s almost like he’s back to the guy he was before this trip—the one who never had anything to say to me.
I run my fingers over my phone screen, considering texting him, but what would I even say? Hey, why did you sit with Weston when the seat in my row was still open? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?
The worst part is, I can’t help but feel like I did do something wrong. Like Carter expected something from me, and I didn’t deliver. I hate being wrong, but I feel like I somehow let Carter down. And that feeling? It’s worse.
I’m just not sure what it could be. We agreed we were keeping this casual. Spending every night together would be the opposite of casual. Plus, I can’t keep up with my work if I’m spending every minute I’m not at the venue with him. I’m sure he needs the time too.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Nash asks, pulling me back. A smirk plays at the corner of his lips.
“Talk about what?” I ask.
“Why you keep staring over my shoulder? Or—and you’re really going to be impressed by my powers of perception here—why, after sitting together on basically every flight so far, Carter left the seat next to you open.”
Fucking Nash. Sometimes he’s such a pain in my ass, I forget he’s actually good at his job.
“I’m sure he had important things to talk to Weston about.”
“Sure. Makes total sense,” Nash says, taking a drink of the soda he ordered when the flight attendant came by a few minutes ago. “And it’s not at all suspicious that you phrased it as ‘I’m sure he had’ rather than ‘he had.’ Makes it seem like you guys maybe haven’t talked today.”
I glare at him, but his smile just grows.
“Fine, Sherlock, what’s your theory?” I ask, hating myself for asking, but also clearly needing someone else’s perspective.
“Funny you should ask,” he says, leaning forward slightly.
When I don’t lean in as well, he crooks his finger a couple of times to beckon me.
I lean in with a sigh, and Nash smiles at his victory.
“Well, my working theory is that the two of you are fucking,” he says, his tone light.
“Fucking? Really, Nash? No one calls it that.”
“Yeah, they do, Kels.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Carter does,” he says, the look in his eyes daring me to tell him Carter is different.
“Fine. Tell me this insightful theory about us ‘fucking,’ or I’m going to get some work done. It’s only a couple more hours until we land in Seoul.”
“You really take the fun out of things, you know?” Nash asks on a pout.
“I’ve been told.”
“Fine, well, I think you two kids are fucking”—he gives me that shit-eating grin he wears so well—“but you’re not on the same page.”
“Wow, quite a theory,” I deadpan, regretting letting myself get pulled into this conversation with Nash.
“I’m not done yet,” he says. “I think Carter is ready to put a ring on it and start having your babies, but you’re a big fan of your ice queen facade, so you pushed him away.
Now, his little heart is broken, so he’s gone into turtle-protection mode.
” He leans back with a smug smile like he just solved nuclear fission.
Well, this was a waste of time. I don’t have an ice queen facade. And Carter doesn’t want to have my babies—or for me to have his. Fucking Nash.
“Interesting theory,” I say. “Just a few follow-up questions. You know females have babies, right? Not men? Two, how did you make it this far in life? And, finally, what the fuck is turtle-protection mode?”
“I see you’re not disputing the accuracy of any pieces of it.”
“Oh, I certainly am.”
He holds up a finger. “One, yes. I’m just not sure who wears the pants in your relationship, so I figured I’d play it safe and assume you.
Two”—another finger goes up—“I’m awesome.
” He lifts his third finger. “And finally, turtle-protection mode is pretty self-explanatory. You go into your shell to keep yourself safe.”
“You’re an idiot.”
His smile falters, his face transforming into something serious.
“Maybe, Kels, but I’ve known Carter since he started with Mitchell, and it’s his go-to move.
When he disagrees with something Trent is doing or when he gets bad news about his mom, he shuts down and avoids everyone.
You don’t have to confirm you two are together, though it’s obvious to everyone who knows Carter.
But if I were you, I’d figure out what I did to make him feel scared. ”
“Oh, please,” I say. “Carter isn’t scared of anything. He’s been that way his whole life. He just doesn’t talk to people he doesn’t like. I respect that about him.”
Nash shrugs, but his serious expression remains.
“I don’t think that’s it. I think you put up your normal walls, and Carter took it as rejection.
Let’s say, just hypothetically of course, that you two were hanging out in a non-platonic way.
He instigated you two ‘hanging out’—and by hanging out I mean fucking, by the way—the first few times.
Then you probably turned him down for a work call or to go on a run or something like that.
He takes it as you not being interested, so he decides to be the bigger person and give you the space you so clearly want.
Except, you don’t actually want the space—as evidenced by the fact that you keep looking at the man instead of paying attention to me, even now, when I’m dropping real important knowledge on you. ”
His words hang in the air between us, and I feel a knot twist in my stomach. I glance over at Carter, who is still seated across the aisle, his eyes locked on his phone screen. Is he giving me space because it’s what he wants? Or is it what he thinks I want?
“You’re reading too much into things,” I say, forcing myself to sound dismissive, even as I wonder how right he might be.
Nash gives me a knowing look. “I’m not, Kels, but hey, it’s all hypothetical anyway, right?”
“Right, totally hypothetical,” I say with a nod.
We both go back to our devices, my focus only partly on the emails I’m reading through from my team. Jaxon is in Seoul for one show tomorrow before we head to Singapore and then down to Australia.
By the time the airplane touches down in South Korea two hours later, Nash’s comment has me fully in my head.
I did instigate things that first morning, but I have let Carter take the lead from there.
It’s not that I haven’t been interested, it’s just that I’ve been unable to figure out how often is too often to be sleeping with my rival. Is that what caused him to turtle?
Only one way to find out, I suppose.
***
“Hey, Carter,” I say as he walks into the hotel lobby that night after having a meeting with his team of CPOs.
He stops in front of me, his dark eyes intense as they scan me from head to foot.
“Hey,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “Did we have a meeting I’m late for?”
I shake my head, offering him a tight smile. “Nope, just…wanted to see if you want to grab dinner.”
“Dinner?” he asks, his eyes soft but searching.
I hesitate, not wanting to get rejected, but also aware that I’m the one who needs to make the next move. “Yeah, like a date?” I say quietly. “I got a reservation for two at a place close by.”
Carter’s gaze doesn’t leave mine as his right hand comes up and massages the back of his neck. His jaw tightens for a moment as he takes in the busy lobby around us, full of tour staff. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me into a secluded corner.
“Can I be honest with you?” he asks hesitantly.
I nod. “Always.”
“I don’t know how to do this, Kels,” he admits, his voice almost too quiet for me to hear. “I hate being in situations where I don’t know what to do, and I have no idea how to be casual with you.”
I glance at him, my heart unexpectedly racing. “What do you mean?”
He runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh.
“You want the embarrassing truth? I liked you in high school and probably before that,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush.
“But I never thought… I never thought you’d feel the same or that the timing would be right.
And then you propositioned me as I held you in my arms, and I thought I was getting a chance—a real chance. ”
The words hit me harder than I expected. My throat tightens, and I blink rapidly, trying to process everything he just said. Carter Mitchell, the guy I’ve been spending all this time with, the guy I can’t seem to stop thinking about, liked me all those years ago?
“But now,” Carter continues, his voice low, vulnerable in a way I’ve never heard before, “I realize it means something more to me than it does to you.”
I start to contradict him, but he shakes his head and keeps going.
“And that’s okay. You were clear when we started that we weren’t dating. I just didn’t want to believe it.”
I don’t know what to say as I look into his dark eyes so full of emotion.
“I’m not good at this. At the whole…talking-about-feelings thing.
But I need you to know that as much as I want to accept any little scrap of you you’re willing to throw my way, I can’t.
Lying in bed last night, alone, willing myself not to reach out to you was one of the most painful things I’ve ever done.
I can’t do it for the rest of my life, let alone for the next three weeks, Kels.
I’m not just looking for a fling or a few nights. I want something more. With you.”
It’s like the air is sucked out of my lungs. He wants more? My mind races, and I can’t find the words to match the storm inside me.
“Carter—” I whisper, but he cuts me off before I can finish.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he adds quickly. “I know it’s not what you’re interested in. I just needed you to know why I can’t do whatever this is anymore.”
I stare at him, my mind working overtime. I don’t know how we got here—how everything shifted so quickly between us. But letting go of Carter is not something I’m willing to do, even if I’m terrified of what it might mean.
“I want to have a chance with you,” Carter says.
“And what if I don’t know what I want yet?”
“Then we’ll take it slow,” Carter says immediately.
“But are you sure it’s that you don’t know, or is it that you’re afraid?
Because I’m not him. I’m not your ex. I know it’s hard to believe, but I need you to know—I would never betray your trust. I’m here for you, Kelsey.
Whether you’re my friend, my colleague, or something more, I’ve got you.
No matter what happens, I’ve got your back. ”
I hesitate, searching his face for something—some hidden meaning or reassurance I guess I still need.
Carter wraps my small fingers in his large ones.
“I’ve never been good at trusting people,” I whisper, hating the slight shake in my voice.
“That’s okay. And I know I let you down at the beginning of the tour, which likely makes it harder. But I’m not asking you to trust me all at once. I’m asking you to trust me with today. And if you give me tomorrow, I’ll earn a little more of your trust then. Slowly. But I’ll earn it, Kels.”
“Okay. Then…it is. What I’m interested in, I mean. Something more.”
His eyes soften, and for a moment, it’s just us. There’s no competition, no pressure, just the quiet understanding that things are changing between us. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what we both need.
“You really don’t make anything easy, do you?” he says, his smile returning, this time warmer, lighter.
“No,” I say, shaking my head with a smirk. “But I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
His smile deepens, and I can feel the weight of everything unsaid between us, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a burden. It feels like a promise.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I know one thing for sure: whatever this is, I want to see where it goes.