18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Lina
I lean over the side of the counter with the hotel towel tucked under my armpits. I have a smile on my face, and my stomach feels like I just got off a roller coaster. As soon as I felt Carter’s soft, moist lips on mine, I knew it was all over. It wasn’t a matter of if I’d give myself to him—it was a matter of when . Maybe it was how he cared for me when I was sick, or perhaps how he looks at me when I speak? Maybe it was simply unexplainable?
When Carter dropped me off at my room last night, I had no plans to leave. But as the flashbacks rolled in with each vibration of thunder pounding outside the hotel window, fear took over. I panicked, and at that moment, my brain only knew of one place that was safe— with him .
My flashbacks don’t always come with storms, but specific ones they do. I’ve learned how different every storm can be. Each one is unique to every climate they hit. A single cell can change its characteristics from one minute to the next. Last night was eerily similar to the one hit that night in high school. The one that comes with a flurry of emotions and regrets.
Once the lightning and thunder fall into a familiar cadence, the hair on my arms stands up, and the nauseating feeling of helplessness pangs my gut. I’m transported back into that upstairs bedroom in an unknown house while my friends laughed, danced, and played beer pong underneath me. I’d had a lot to drink that night, and so did they. I used that as an excuse for years, but I know better.
A light knock at the door startles me. I drop my contact into the sink. With only one in, I stare out of the peephole.
Carter.
I spin around, my back flush with the door. I slipped out this morning before he woke up, but not before memorizing the sharp lines of his face. His longer-on-top dark hair lay messy on his head, while the perfectly crafted ridges of his bare chest rose and fell with each breath. My heart ached with feelings, and my thoughts reeled with how our relationship would change. I panicked and left.
I’m sure he’s here to make sure I understand that there can’t ever be a relationship with us—something that doesn’t need to be said. As my mind spirals with why he’s here and what he’s thinking, I get a flash of anger. Not knowing if he assumes I’d want more or not, I feel tense at the notion he wouldn’t want me.
I suck in a heavy breath and swing open the door. “I’m not some frantic romantic. You don’t have to make this awkward. It is what it is!” I blurt out before he has a chance to speak.
He’s leaning against the side of the wall with his arms crossed at his chest. Fuuuck.
“Good morning to you, too.” Running his tongue along his bottom lip, he shoots me a wicked smile. “Just get out of the shower?”
I look down at the thin white towel wrapped around me—the only thing that’s covering all my lady parts. What the fuck ever.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before,” I quip, pushing the door open and walking back into the bathroom. Carter catches it with his palm before shutting it behind him.
“I’ve also had my tongue inside of you if we’re being specific.”
“Funny,” I comment from inside the bathroom while I finish getting dressed. I don’t even bother shutting the door.
“I want to take you to breakfast,” he says.
I pop my head out, “It’s okay, Carter. It doesn’t have to be weird.”
“Nothing is weird.” His posture straightens. “There’s a cool breakfast place a little north of Seattle that I’d love to take you to. It’s about an hour’s drive, so we have to get going soon if we want to be back to the airport on time.”
The corner of my mouth curves into a smile. I place the rest of my makeup in my bag, biting my lip. He wants to take me to breakfast. Can this be as simple as a momentary lapse in judgment, and that’s all last night was? The tension and attraction between us are no secret, but moving on after what happened could be simple. We are friends, coworkers, and running partners—it seems harmless enough.
My face grimaces. I slept with my dad’s best friend. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. People make mistakes. No one has to know. Everything will be fine.
Walking out of the bathroom, I see Carter sitting on the edge of one of the queen beds with a smile as big and bright as mine.
I blush. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He stands, struts over to me, and sweeps the back of his knuckles across my cheek.
“Okay.”
“I have a buddy that works in downtown Seattle. He said we could use his convertible for the morning. As we speak, his driver is dropping it off in front of the hotel.”
“Oh really? What’s wrong with getting a rideshare?”
“What’s the benefit of knowing people all over the country”—Carter cocks his head to the side—“all over the world if you can’t use them for favors.” He steps into me, dipping his head down. I feel the warm feathering of his breath on my lips. His mouth smells like mint.
My pulse picks up. “Oh yeah? What type of favors do you get?”
“Lots. I have unique connections,” he says, walking toward the door and leaving my lips tingly and flushed with heat.
I swipe my jacket from the back of the chair and swing my purse over my shoulder. “Ready?”
A short time, we’re driving in a white Porsche with the top down. It’s chilly but a surprisingly clear day for Seattle. The drive is a long, windy highway lined with tall Douglas fir trees. Whipping past them, I take in the beautiful, vibrant green color of the needles hanging off each branch.
Deeply inhaling the fresh smell, I’m reminded of Christmas time. It’s comforting. Glancing over at Carter, his aviator sunglasses cover his eyes, and his leather jacket is zipped up. He catches me staring and smiles. Then, he does something that I would have never expected, and I don’t know how to respond at first. Carter reaches over the center console and rests his hand on my thigh—a sweet gesture for me to clasp mine in his.
I hesitate at first, but as soon as I give in, his fingers intertwine with mine, taking my breath away. Neither of us moves until we pull off the highway and drive down a short, narrow road, where a large log cabin structure catches my eye.
“This is Snoqualmie Falls,” he tells me before turning off the engine.
My eyes roam the scenery. The large trees, the tilted parking lot, and the small cabin. “A breakfast restaurant?”
He nods. “Yeah. Wait until you get inside. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m excited.”
Carter and I walk up the tree-lined walkway. After check-in, the hostess takes us through the narrow hallways and low ceilings until we reach a private room in the back. As soon as she opens the door, I gasp. The room is no larger than a small office with a small two-seater table by one of the floors and ceiling-ceiling windows covering 180 degrees.
“Carter,” I whisper, taking in the incredible view of a massive waterfall. It’s surrounded by a forest filled with tall trees in various shades of green. Halfway up, the forest meets an almost perfect split with a turquoise blue sky.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Carter is standing at my side. “My grandma used to take me here when I was a kid.”
“Yes.” I turn to him, dragging my eyes across his dark features. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
His eyes bounce between the organized chaos of the waterfall and mine. “The food is great, too,” he says in a low voice, gesturing toward the small table up against the window. He pulls out my chair .
I take my seat. After the server took our drink order, I turned back to Carter. “You came here with your grandma?”
He nods. “I did.”
“For a vacation?”
“Sort of.” His posture falls slightly. “My mom was serving time in prison up here.”
I squeeze my eyes together, not expecting him to say that. He’s mentioned briefly that his grandparents raised him, but I guess it never occurred to me to ask where his parents were. How could I not have asked?
“That must have been hard for you.”
“It was,” he says, but then he smiles. “But my grandparents were wonderful. I had a good childhood because of them.”
And there’s that killer smile again.
He takes a sip from one of the two souvenir coffee mugs placed on the table and continues, “We would make a vacation out of coming to Seattle. My grandparents would take me to the zoo, we’d ride the ferry, and then when I got older, we’d go hiking.”
“It’s amazing how your grandparents turned such a hard situation into a pleasant one for you.”
“They did.”
I wet my lips, rewording my following phrase a few times before letting the words leave my mouth. “Where is your mom now? If you don’t mind me asking?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I start biting the nail on my index finger. I take his short response as a clue that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, which is fine. I have my own trauma, and I hate the fact that it still lives inside me. I’m reluctant to breathe more life into it by verbalizing any details and something I’ve kept secret for almost ten years.
“It’s alright,” he reassures me, sensing my discomfort. “You don’t have to be uncomfortable asking me these things, Lina. I like talking to you.”
I nod bashfully. “Okay.”
Carter and I finish up breakfast, chatting about his childhood and how close he was with both his grandparents. He tells me he didn’t know his dad even though his parents were still together. Carter also made it clear that he’s had no desire to either. Every so often, I feel his leg touch mine under the table. Neither one of us moves away.
When it’s time to leave, we head toward our hotel near the airport. Taking the drive back into Seattle from Snoqualmie Falls, we both enjoy tracks from Stick Figure and Moby. Carter drops the car off at valet, then texts his connection that we’ve returned, and he can retrieve his car.
There’s an ease between us now, unlike before when we danced around natural urges. But why do I still feel unsatisfied? I want to touch and feel him again, especially after the morning we’ve had. How can we move on and pretend that last night didn’t happen? Maybe he’s not fully out of my system.
I fiddle with the key card in my hands, anxious about the last twelve hours coming to an end.
He walks me to my hotel door. “I’ll see you on the flight.”
I can’t say goodbye yet. My body craves more. I raise to my tippy toes, lean in, and bring my lips to his.
His hand slides up my cheek and grips my hair, eliciting sparks along my head’s nerve endings. “More?”
“One more time won’t hurt, will it?” I mumble into the deliciousness of his lips.
I feel the corner of his mouth curve upwards. “Absolutely not.”
Fuck. What are we doing?