Chapter 21 Carrie #3
A wave of feeling crashes over me, and it’s all so sudden and unexpected, I don’t know what to think. There’s a flame flickering deep in my belly, growing taller by the minute.
Fuck it. I kiss him back, slow and hard.
His hands tighten around me, and I’m glad—my legs are trembling. I’m blinking so fast, the world around me is a blur. All I see is his skin, his eyes, and then…
He plants one last soft, small kiss on my lips and pulls back, slinging an arm around my shoulders as he hauls me back to his car. My knees are Jell-O.
“Safe travels,” Don calls over his shoulder to Luke. “Maybe try to win, next time.”
He opens the door for me, and I keep my eyes cast down, desperately trying to collect my thoughts as he walks around the car and slips behind the wheel.
We sit there in silence. What just happened?
I know what happened, obviously. And I know something else, too—I want to sleep with him. Right this second, in this car.
I’m all over the place.
I keep my eyes locked on the glovebox, willing myself not to look up. He rests a wrist on the steering wheel. I glance to the side, and he’s staring straight ahead. Imagine climbing on top of him right now.
The last time I felt him inside me seems so far away.
So tantalizingly close. Back then, I didn’t have all this extra shit to deal with—I just got laid, and that was that.
I know exactly why I decided to slam on the brakes, but it’s getting harder to bite down on just how badly I want to press myself against him and taste his lips on mine. I’m not going to, though.
“You going to hit me?”
I swivel around.
“I’m only asking because your fists are all balled up,” he adds. “And you just kind of… moaned.”
I look down into my lap and flex my fingers, cracking my knuckles. I need to get my shit together. Time to get back to the old, badass me.
“Care to explain why you decided to stick your tongue down my throat in the middle of a parking lot?”
“Maybe I should’ve gone for Berenson?”
“A little boy-on-boy action?” I run a tongue over my lips. “I wouldn’t say no to that. A classic enemies-to-lovers story—”
“I meant take a swing at him.”
“Oh, my bad.” I shrug. “So, why didn’t you? The game was over. Plus, he deserved it.”
I wanted you to go for him.
“Makes no difference. You can still get carded for shit that happens off court. I showed him that not only did we crush them—I also went home with the girl.”
“ ‘The girl’? Wow, I feel so special.”
“I saw what he was doing during the game.”
“Really?”
I’m surprised. I thought he hadn’t noticed a thing, or worse—that he hadn’t cared.
“I needed to keep my game face on. Stay focused on the play,” he explains. “So, when I saw you guys talking in the parking lot, I thought it’d be a good way of getting my own back.”
“I feel so used!” I squeal. “Seriously, that’s so fucked up. What am I—a trophy?”
He looks at me. “Didn’t seem to bother you. You were practically purring back there.”
My eyes widen. Is he kidding me? Fucking purring?
“If you’re planning on hypnotizing me, too… It won’t work.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He laughs. “Damn.”
“Anyway, me and Berenson? We were just making conversation, killing time. Swapping thoughts on the game.”
“Please.” He eyes me. “You expect me to believe he wasn’t hitting on you?”
“A little, sure. But—”
“Did you give him your number?”
His stare is so intense. My cheeks flush.
“What kind of girl do you think I am?” I scowl at him. “I was actually telling him he deserved to burn in hell. He could’ve seriously hurt you back there. You really think I would want to hook up with him after that?”
Don’s face breaks into a broad smile.
“Wait a minute—you were worried for me?”
I flush deeper. “Just because you annoy the hell out of me doesn’t mean I want to see you get hurt or anything!”
“You”—he smiles, leaning into me—“were worried… about me…” He pinches my cheek. “That’s adorable.”
He brushes a strand of hair out of my face, and I could punch his bruised shoulder—if it weren’t for how close his mouth is and how that’s all I can focus on.
His fingertips linger on my ear, and my throat dries up.
We’re inches away from each other, the space between us closing with every breath, his lips a butterfly wing away from mine.
Those warning bells are ringing out again, but they’re fading into the distance, like I’m underwater, and I can’t even think about shrinking back now.
All I want is to satisfy the hunger that’s burning deep inside me.
I’m so turned on, I can’t even…
I won’t even…
There’s a knock on my window, and I whip around to see Adam standing there with Lewis, peering in at us.
I practically throw myself out of Don’s car.
“Ten minutes, huh?” I say, slamming the door shut behind me. “Ten freaking minutes?”
“Sorry, I got held up,” Adam offers weakly.
I rummage for his keys and toss them at his head.
“We’re meeting the rest of the team at the Java. See you guys there?” Lewis asks. “I’ll ride with Adam.”
Donovan has appeared to my left, leaning against the hood.
“Hop on in, Carrie.”
“I’m not coming with you guys.”
“It’s part of the deal, babe.”
He grins at me.
I suck in a breath.
“The guys want to meet Ms. Wolinski!” Lewis calls out from Adam’s car. “Let’s go, people! Lewis needs beer.”
I look at Adam, silently pleading for help, but he ignores me, backing up and pulling out, giving me a quick wave before the two of them go roaring off into the night.
I gather my courage up in both hands and turn back to Donovan.
“You’re not going to drive me home, are you?”
“Nope!” He’s all smiles.
“Shots with a bunch of jocks,” I sigh. “Basically my idea of hell…”
“Relax—there’ll be other girls there. Plus, I need you tipsy.”
“Excuse me?”
“I have a favor to ask, and I’m pretty sure you’ll only say yes with a little alcohol in you.” He nods at the car. “Let’s do this.”
“No way in hell. What’s the favor?”
He shakes his head. “You wanna find out, you come to the bar.”
“Too bad for you, because I’m not that interested.” I turn on my heel, smiling. “I’ll walk.”
Deep down, I’m dying to find out what he wanted to ask me, but if he thinks he can lure me out to a bar with his buddies by dangling that in front of me, he’s got another thing coming.
“Carrie, wait up.” He jogs over to join me. “Fine—forget the bar thing, I’ll drop you home. It’s just…”
He wrinkles his nose and sighs. He’s rubbing his hands together like he’s about to drop to one knee. I kind of love seeing him squirm like this—all because he needs me for something. I’m getting a massive kick out of it all. And doing zero to hide it.
“Get ready to be my bitch, Wolinski. And even then—I can’t promise I’ll say yes.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Careful,” I warn. “So, fill me in, babe. I’m listening.”
I smirk at him.
“It’s my birthday on Friday.”
I wait for him to say more, but he just stands there, like I’m supposed to read his mind.
“Okay…”
“We’re having dinner at my dad’s. My mom and sister are coming down.”
“Your sister? Daaamn!” I wince. “You haven’t seen her since summer, right?”
“Exactly. So, I’m kind of freaking out—”
“And so you want us to do some prep for your big talk with her?”
This wasn’t part of our deal, but it’s a golden opportunity to wrap this whole thing up. If he and Amelia can patch things up, maybe he’ll stop being so obsessed with becoming the perfect guy.
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. Not exactly…”
I shrug. “So, how can I help?”
“You could come with me.”
Say what?
“I’ll crawl, I’ll beg, I’ll kiss your feet—literally whatever you want,” he adds, his fingers laced together like he’s praying.
“Go ahead and kiss my feet all you want, buddy. The answer’s still no. No way am I having dinner with your parents!”
“I need you there if I’m going to confront my sister,” he pleads.
I need you. I hate the way that just gave me goose bumps.
“Donovan, you can do this. You don’t need me to…”
He’s asking too much here. Way too much.
“Please.”
“This isn’t hard. Tell her you get it now—you understand how you messed up, and you’re making changes so it’ll never happen again. It’s no big deal.” I scour his face. “What happened to the badass I saw out there on the court today?”
“I need you there with me,” he insists. “Call me selfish, but I know how this is going to go down. I’ll be standing there in front of her feeling so fucking small, and I need you there to feel okay about myself.”
The way he’s looking at me cuts me to the core.
“I can’t do it, Donovan.” I shake my head slowly. “I’m sorry—but I just can’t.”
It hurts to turn him down. He’s being genuine, here—I can see how freaked out he is, and I feel myself waver, but… No. I’ve trampled over every single one of my values and boundaries to work with him, but going to meet his parents? That’s a step too far.