Chapter 27
CARSON
Idon’t know how I manage to fall asleep. The adrenaline from our middle-of-the-night kiss has me wired. But thank god I do, because every time I close my eyes, my mind serves up a carousel of images from the back seat of Dan’s car. I revisit the best orgasm of my life at least three times.
It isn’t enough.
Unfortunately, I can’t stay in bed with my imagination (and my vibrator), because I wake to my phone vibrating itself off the edge of my bedside table.
God, with everything that’s happened after, I almost forgot that we ran into Wyatt and Owen last night. Of course Wyatt has questions.
Wyatt
So you’re sleeping with him, right?
Because SOMETHING was going on between you two last night
There were vibes
I MUST KNOW!
I’ll be at the bar all day, we have deliveries in the morning and then trivia tonight GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND SPILL
And one text from Dan:
Dan
I’m at the tattoo shop getting in some apprentice hours. Figured I’d make myself scarce with your mom around. But if you need a wingman, call me
It’s funny—just a day ago, a text from Dan with this many words would have been a sure sign that he’d been kidnapped. Or that his phone had been stolen by particularly thoughtful thieves.
I read his text three times, kicking my feet beneath my covers and letting out a silent squeal. This is real. It really happened.
And we’re not done.
I just need my mother to get the hell out of my house.
“My house.” I whisper it out loud to myself. I’m certainly going to need the reminder when I leave this bedroom and have to face her again.
I text Dan first.
Carson
I’ll be fine. I have derby practice at noon, and she’s leaving for the concert while I’m gone. Just have to get through the morning
Dan
Don’t let her push you around. And don’t forget how fucking incredible you are.
This time the squeal I let out isn’t so silent.
“You okay, hon?” my mom calls through my closed door.
“Fine! Just getting up,” I call back, then sigh. I stare at the ceiling and take a few deep, cleansing breaths. I love my mother. Really, I do. And I know she loves me. She means well.
She just doesn’t often come off that way.
And I’ve never had the kind of strength required to tell her that.
I dress quickly, pulling on a pair of cutoff shorts and a T-shirt, then trudge into the kitchen.
“Look at you, sleepyhead!” my mom says from her perch at the kitchen table, a half-drunk mug of coffee on the table in front of her.
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Let’s go to breakfast. Then I want to swing by the fabric store—I miss Libby’s.
All we have down in Boca is a Hobby Lobby, and their customer service is just not up to par.
And then we should hit the grocery because honey, there are no vegetables in your kitchen.
Do you need some financial help? Because you know Dad and I would be happy to send you money. ”
I suppress a sigh. It’s not even eight on a Saturday morning and I’m standing in my kitchen fully dressed, but sure, I’m a sleepyhead. And of course she doesn’t ask whether I have any plans, just assumes I’ll tag along on her errands.
“Breakfast sounds good,” I say, plastering on a smile. “And I was already planning a grocery trip today, before you surprised me with a visit. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have stocked the fridge. I just need to be somewhere at noon.”
I brace for her to ask me where I need to be, at which point I’ll need to tell her about roller derby, which I’m dreading. But instead she just smiles.
“Let’s go to Pete’s,” Mom says, reaching for her purse, the same brown leather Coach bag Dad got her for Christmas when I was in middle school.
The lottery win may have changed their retirement plans, but it hasn’t changed much else.
“I miss their pancakes. I shouldn’t, though.
So many calories for breakfast. But I’m on vacation, so maybe I can be bad. ”
I bite back the desire to tell her that eating a pancake doesn’t make her bad, that the food we eat has no moral value. I want to tell her that food is simply fuel, and since I have roller derby practice later, I’ll need plenty of that.
Instead I smile a tight-lipped smile and take my purse from the counter.
“Pete’s sounds great, Mom.”
The Half Pint is dark and quiet at nine thirty in the morning on a Saturday. The chairs are upside down on the tables, and the speakers are blasting Taylor Swift. Wyatt is behind the bar, inventorying the bottles on the wall behind her.
“I have to make this quick,” I tell her, slinging my purse onto the bar and sliding onto a stool. “My mom stopped into the fabric store, so I should have about twenty minutes before she texts.”
Wyatt looks confused. “Your mom is here?”
“Surprise!” I say, pulling a face. “Yeah, she showed up last night.”
She grimaces. “Wow. And here I thought you were getting lucky with Dan.”
“Yeah, me too,” I grumble.
The bottle of tequila Wyatt is unboxing lands on the bar with a thud. “Wait, seriously? I was teasing,” she says.
“Why does me hooking up with Dan seem so crazy?” I say.
“It’s not crazy, just surprising,” she says, raising her hands in surrender. “I’m surprised. He’s not the easiest person to get to know.”
“Well, it doesn’t feel surprising to me. Frankly, the only feeling I have about it is good.” And then I feel myself flush from head to toe.
Wyatt’s eyebrows shoot up. “Okay, get it, girl,” she says. “Where are we at with this thing?”
“Well, last night after we saw you, he took me to this old quarry, and, uh, we went swimming…”
“I’m guessing you did not pack swimsuits?” Wyatt waggles her eyebrows.
“We did not,” I say with a grin. “But the evening got interrupted when we rolled into the house to find my mother sitting on the couch.”
“Yikes,” she says. “What a cockblock.”
“No kidding,” I say.
“Just be careful,” Wyatt warns.
My mother has only been back in town for twelve hours, and already I’m exhausted from hearing all the ways I need to slow down, be safe, make good decisions. She still talks to me like I’m fifteen, so hearing Wyatt join in gets my hackles up.
“You know, I’m twenty-five years old. It’s perfectly normal for me to sleep with people,” I snap. “I don’t need to be babied about my sex life.”
Wyatt reaches across the bar and rests her hand gently on my arm. “Hey, I’m not trying to baby you. I’m only saying…Dan isn’t just anyone. It would be easy to get wrapped up in the moment and forget that there are all kinds of very real obstacles in your way. Like your lifelong best friend.”
“Yeah, Grace already made it clear that she’s not happy about the idea, but she’d come around,” I say.
“She would. But that’s not what I mean,” Wyatt says.
“Okay, well, don’t leave me in suspense. Please do tell me all the reasons why sleeping with Dan is a mistake.”
“Girl, sleeping with him is fine. Encouraged, even! By me, at least. I just don’t want you to get caught up and find your heart in a position it shouldn’t be. I mean, it’s not like he’s staying in Cardinal Springs.”
“How do you know that?”
Wyatt looks at me like I’ve asked her to explain the end of Old Yeller. “Carson. Come on. It’s obvious he hates it here. As soon as whatever legal situation he’s dealing with is resolved, I imagine he’s going to go back to New York. Get back to his real life.”
The words hit me like a slap. Because yeah, I know he doesn’t love Cardinal Springs.
But he hasn’t really expressed any love for New York either.
He hasn’t talked about going back. He certainly hasn’t waxed poetic about his old job.
I still don’t know exactly what his situation is, but I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about him going back to New York.
“Okay. Well, I don’t know if that’s true,” I tell her, and hate that I sort of sound like a pouty teen. “But also, who cares? What if we just have a fling?”
“You want to have a fling with your best friend’s older brother?” Wyatt asks gently.
“You did it,” I retort.
“Okay, well, way to throw that in my face.” She laughs, tossing a bar towel over her shoulder.
“All I’m saying is, be careful. When I was messing around with Owen, I knew what a dangerous game I was playing.
I love Grace, I love her family, and I love this town.
If anything goes wrong between the two of us, I know I’ll wind up on the wrong side of that equation.
And that’s with Grace’s encouragement! I somehow suspect you won’t get the same reception from her. ”
I sigh. “I don’t see why not.”
“Carson, I say this with all the love in my heart. You are the sunshiniest of days, and that man is a walking black cloud. It doesn’t exactly seem like a match made in heaven,” she says.
“Maybe not everybody is looking for the love of their life. Maybe I’m just looking for a good time.”
Wyatt looks at me like she can see right through me. “Carson, that’s not you.”
“Wyatt, has it occurred to you that maybe nobody really knows who I am, least of all me?” I reply.
There’s a long pause during which Wyatt studies me. She blows out a breath. “That’s kind of a big thing to say.”
I sigh. “I know, but I’m realizing that this is the first time in my life that I’m actually running the show. I may be late to this blooming thing, but I’m here now. And I don’t know what things are going to look like when I’m done.”
Wyatt nods. “Okay, well, I’m certainly not the one to lecture you on being careful. So I guess all I can say is, go get ’em, tiger.”
My phone vibrates on the bar with a text from my mother. She’s waiting outside, because for her, walking into a bar is like walking through the gates of hell.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go grocery shopping with my mother now,” I groan.
“May I be so bold as to offer some advice?” Wyatt asks.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this whole time?”