37. Carla
Carla
Ithought Mallory called me because I didn’t come home last night. I thought she was being her usual dramatic self. I thought she was checking on me like a good friend.
I thought of literally every scenario except for this one.
Mallory wore a look of panic when I walked through the apartment door this morning.
“I know, I know. I should’ve called. But you’ll forgive me when I give you all the juicy details of my whereabouts last night.” I kick off my shoes and drop my purse onto the floor.
“Uh, Carla,” she said. “You have a visitor.”
My body froze when I saw him standing there. In my living room. In my apartment. In New York.
Joe.
“You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts,” he said. “This is my Hail Mary pass.”
Leave it to a man to compare our love life to football.
To say I was stunned is an understatement. But that’s as far as my emotions went. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t angry. Seeing him in front of me after all this time, looking handsome as ever in jeans and a polo shirt, I was numb.
I told him we could go grab coffee and talk. Had to ignore the daggers Mallory shot me. There was no way I’d be able to have a serious talk with her eavesdropping.
On the way to the café, all I could think about was the timing.
Men are like giant toddlers. Picture an adorable kid playing with a toy, claiming it’s his favorite. He goes everywhere with it. Eats with it, sleeps with it. He’s obsessed with it. When he’s had his fill, he tosses it to the side and moves on to the next, cooler toy.
But when another toddler picks up that discarded toy, oh, then the boy pitches a fit. “Mine!” he screams, doing anything and everything to get that toy back.
He only wanted that toy because another kid had it. He didn’t really want it back. He just didn’t want anyone else to have any fun with it.
Joe’s Hail Mary pass is the equivalent of a toddler’s temper tantrum. Granted he doesn’t know about TJ, but I’d moved on with my life in another city. He hadn’t heard from me. His toddler radar told him I was happy without him.
Still, I hear him out. We order our drinks and take a seat at a quiet table in the corner of the café.
He speaks first as I take a sip of my latte. “You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
“I can’t believe you moved here.”
“It’s not all that different. People here are just … louder.”
He smiles, and my heart pangs. Stupid heart. Don’t go doing that now.
Joe’s hand slides over the table and covers mine. “I’ve missed you.”
I concentrate on our hands touching instead of looking into his eyes. They’re the same eyes I used to gaze into for hours on end. The ones I’d seen forever in.
The numbness is subsiding, and old feelings start to seep through. Like a dull ache. Then comes the confusion.
Why do I still feel something for him? Would I always?
“Why?” I ask. “Because you’re not with Brianna anymore?”
“Brianna was … she was a mistake. I was so upset over our breakup and I wasn’t thinking straight.”
I laugh and retract my hand, keeping it safe on my lap. “You were the one who broke up with me. You left. What were you so upset over?”
“Look, I’ll just come right out and say it. I panicked, Carla. I saw that pregnancy test and I panicked. I wasn’t ready to have kids. We’d just started college. We had a plan and that wasn’t part of the plan. Not yet, anyway. But it doesn’t mean I never want to have kids with you. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”
And now anger’s joining the party. “I got pregnant, Joe. We got pregnant. You abandoned me when I needed you most.”
“I know. I regret that more than anything.”
“And for what? Because it wasn’t part of the plan?”
For the first time, I realize how silly all my plans sounded.
“That’s why I’m here,” he says. “I need you to know how sorry I am for the way I reacted.”
“You can’t just tell me to get an abortion and expect everything to go back to normal. We were supposed to be a team, Joe. But the second we were faced with a problem, you went running for the hills. To another woman, might I add.”
“Carla, I want to make it up to you. I want you to trust me again. I—”
“No.” My voice cracks and I hate that the emotion is getting the best of me. “How can I trust you after what you did? I don’t know you anymore.”
“Yes, you do.” He scoots his chair around the corner of the table until he’s beside me, touching my cheek. “You know me better than anyone else.”
“I thought I did. But the person I thought you were would’ve never done this. He would’ve never ruined us.”
Thinking about the person I once knew Joe to be, I can’t help but think about the person I used to be. What would the old me have done if Joe had come for me sooner? Would I have gotten back together with him? Would I have given in to my heartache and forgiven his betrayal?
I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m not that person anymore.
Sitting here with Joe, I feel different. Everything feels different. Coming to New York, creating another life for myself, pushing myself outside my comfort zone … it all changed me.
TJ changed me.
That’s how I know I’m making the right decision when I say, “You ruined us, Joe. This isn’t something you can fix. I’ve learned how to live with that. I’ve moved on. You should too.”
After I saygoodbye to Joe and fill Mallory in on everything, I race to TJ’s apartment.
My phone’s dead and Mallory said TJ came looking for me earlier. Not seeing him all day after the night we shared is killing me, and I can’t wait to be in his arms again.
When I arrive, I take the stairs two at a time and forgo knocking on his door.
“TJ? Are you here?” I scan the kitchen and living room, and make my way to his bedroom next. “Anybody home?”
I plug my phone into his charger and leave it on his nightstand. I return to the hallway and tap my knuckles against the closed bathroom door. “TJ? You in here?”
I turn the knob and push open the door.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
TJ’s soaking in the bathtub with his earbuds in. His giant arm hangs over the side, head tilted back, eyes closed. He looks so peaceful, I take advantage of the stolen moment and allow myself to stare, taking in every perfect part of him.
The swell of his chiseled chest as it meets his collar bone. The curve of his Adam’s apple. His prominent jawline. Those perfect, bowed lips. My eyes rove over the world wonder that is this man.
Myman.
My warrior.
TJ’s eyes open, pinning me with a gaze I can’t quite read. His brows are low, jaw clenched.
He doesn’t look happy to see me.
“My phone died,” I say. “Mal told me you came by.”
He pops the buds out and drops them onto the tile. “Was worried about you since I didn’t hear from you. Guess you were busy.”
“Joe showed up at my apartment this morning. That’s why Mal called so many times.”
His eyes ignite but his expression remains the same. “And how did that go?”
“As good as can be expected.” I shrug. “We talked about what happened and—”
TJ’s hand rises to stop me. “Spare me the details.”
“Oh.” My stomach drops to my feet. Why is he being so cold with me? “Are you okay?”
A smirk tilts the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. You know me.”
My eyebrows collapse. “What does that mean?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just get on with it. Say your goodbye and leave.”
“Goodbye?” Leave? What on earth …?
“Aren’t you going back with Joe?” he asks.
Ah, there it is. It all clicks into focus. I’d laugh if TJ didn’t look so torn up about this.
Go back with Joe? After everything? With the way I feel for TJ? Ridiculous.
My teeth drag across my bottom lip as I step out of my shoes. TJ’s eyes flick to my hands as I pop the button on my jeans and push them down to the floor. I tug my shirt over my head and snap the clasp on my bra, letting it drop to my feet.
TJ is silent, watching me undress. His eyes slide down my legs, following my panties until they hit the tile. I’m baring myself to him. For him.
I step into the tub and settle in with my back to his chest. The water’s warm, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating between our bodies.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath on my ear sending shivers down my spine. His hands remain on the outside of the tub, refusing to touch me.
Refusing to believe that I’d chosen him.
I look over my shoulder and press my lips to his cheek. “I’m taking a bath with my boyfriend.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “But what about …”
My tongue traces the vein along his neck before I take his earlobe between my teeth. “It’s you, TJ. I only want you.”
“Are you sure?” His hands slip under the water and caress my thighs.
“Positive.”
His hands leave my legs and blaze a trail up my body. They glide over my breasts, bringing the warm water with them. My head drops back on his shoulder as a breathy moan escapes me. He’s teasing me in the most sensuous way, swirling his wet fingertips over my nipples, sucking my neck, biting my shoulder, all while grinding his hardness against my back.
“TJ.” His name is a whimper on my lips, begging for more.
One hand remains on my chest while his other dips below the water again. He parts my legs and skims his fingers over my center. The water amplifies the sensation he’s causing as he slides over my sensitive skin in slow, gentle strokes.
“I love you so much, Carla,” he whispers against my ear. “I’m going to take care of you. Make you happy. Make you feel loved.”
The only coherent thing I can say is his name, over and over, while he assaults my senses.
“This body is mine,” he commands.
“Yours,” I say. “I’m yours.” I’m writhing in pure agony and bliss under his feather-light touch.
He pushes the tip of his finger inside me while strumming me with his thumb. I’m ready to break apart, and then his hand leaves me. I’m in a daze as he pulls me to my feet and hoists me out of the tub. He carries me to his room and lowers me onto the bed.
He’s reaching for a condom when I scoot off the bed. I drop to my knees before him and take him into my mouth. Gripping onto his muscular backside, I drive him in farther, wrapping my tongue around his length. My eyes travel up his taut pelvis, over the rigid lines of his abs, until I meet his fiery gaze.
With his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, he watches me until he’s about to explode. He lifts me by my biceps and sets me back on the bed. While he’s tearing into the condom, I flip onto my stomach. His eyebrow arches and I flash him a devilish smile.
“God, I love you,” he says. He lifts my hips until they’re aligned with his and thrusts into me.
TJ hits the best spot from this angle, and his hands are everywhere. Greedy, touching and rubbing every inch of me.
But the thing about TJ is that he doesn’t just make love to my body. He makes love to my mind. He might hold my small frame in his hands, but he also possesses my soul.
When we’re lying together after, intertwined and satiated, we spend the remainder of the night talking about the future.
Our future.