Track 14 Speak Now
ARIZONA
Islept late the next day. All day.
I even called in sick to my part time job at the marina and let my manager berate me for the umpteenth time.
(Something about if I was ever late again or called in sick one more day, I would be fired.
I didn’t care about the fired part; it was more about losing my boat access pass that I sometimes needed to use when the chefs held classes on Parker Island; private boat fares weren’t cheap.)
When I’d finally found the motivation to drag myself up, it was six o’clock and I figured I should start getting ready for a night with Nicole.
I went downstairs to see what she’d dropped off earlier and found myself standing in a sea of plastic bags—bags full of all types of junk food: Cheetos, chocolate bars, twenty different types of fruity candy, and lots of vodka and beer.
It was just like Nicole to literally drop something off without thinking about putting it away. By the time I finished stuffing everything into the pantry, it was seven o’clock and she’d sent me a message.
Nicole
Soooo, don’t kill me for this, but I have to cancel on you tonight! I have a really, really good reason though! It has an eight pack and I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, I promise!
WHAT THE HELL?
Holding back a frustrated scream, I typed, “This is the tenth-plus time you’ve stood me up for a fucking guy, Nicole.
A non-boyfriend guy at that and I’m beyond tired of it!
You have no idea what it means to be a good friend, so the second you decide that you want to be one, let me know.
” My finger hovered over the send button, but I didn’t press it.
She wasn’t worth it anymore.
I grabbed some of the snacks she’d bought and headed upstairs to my room.
I flipped through a few cooking channels and settled on a chef that was making a specialty crème br?lée. I changed into a different set of pajamas and got into bed, grabbing my binder to take notes.
As the chef was testing the custard’s temperature, my phone vibrated. Carter.
My mind immediately pictured him kissing my lips and holding my body taut against him, so I knew I didn’t need to talk to him right now.
I hit ignore.
He called again.
I hit ignore again.
Carter
Are you hitting ignore because you don’t want to admit that I was right about Nicole?
You were wrong about her, actually. We’re at my place taking shots and eating pizza. I’ll call you later.
I’m looking at her right now, so unless you’ve grown a beard and a mustache within the past six hours, I take it that she did, in fact, bail on you?
Unfortunately. The guy she’s with has a beard and a mustache?
Yes. He also looks like he’s at least ten to twelve years older than her.
You’re kidding.
Not at all. What are you really doing?
Moping about what pitiful friends I have. (You included.) You?
Getting ready to head home. I was trying to help Josh find a “just friend” friend at the bar tonight.
Did it work?
No. He decided to go for the one-night stand option instead. You want some company?
Not really …
Well, I do. Be ready in twenty. I’ll pick you up and we’ll come to my place.
What’s wrong with my place?
I would answer that, but it never happened …
I blushed.
Okay. See you in twenty.
I didn’t bother changing out of my pajamas. I put on a pair of old worn sneakers and took a duffle bag out of my closet.
I walked downstairs and stuffed most of the things Nicole had bought inside the bag.
“You going to a slumber party, Ari?” Heather looked up at me from the counter, smiling. “Aren’t we a little too old for those?”
“No, Nicole stood me up again, so I’m going to hang out with Carter for a while.”
“Oh. Well, sorry to hear that about Nicole, again. At least Carter was free tonight, right?”
“Right.” I paused. “I slept with him the other night.”
“You slept with who?” She tilted her head to the side.
“Carter. I slept with him. We had sex.”
“Right.” She put her hand over her chest and laughed loudly. “Like I’d ever believe that! You two are like the cutest non-couple/best friends ever.” She looked down at her work again. “Have fun.”
“I’ll try.” I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder and stepped onto the porch. I was certain that most people wouldn’t believe we’d had sex either; hell, even though I had the memory to prove it, a part of me was still in disbelief.
Carter pulled up just as I was sitting down. Instead of waiting on me to make a move for the car, he walked up the pathway and reached for the duffle bag.
“Are you planning on asking me to move in?” He held it up. “What the hell is in this?”
“Snacks and alcohol, courtesy of Nicole.”
“Well, at least something good came out of her standing you up this time.” He slipped his hand around my waist—sending those familiar, palpable tremors down my spine, as we walked to his car.
We made the short drive to his place without saying much of anything to each other and like always, I adjusted his music from indie rock to soft pop.
I wanted to say something, to laugh and joke about something insignificant, but all I could think about was how badly I wanted to feel his lips on mine again.
“Arizona?” His voice broke me out of my thoughts and I realized he was holding my door open. “Are you going to get out of the car? Why do you always stare into space when the car is parked?”
“Bad habit.” I got out and followed him inside. As we walked down the hallway, we could hear soft moans and groans coming from Josh’s bedroom.
I tried my best to tune them out, as Carter led me into his room and shut the door.
“Are you actually going to talk to Nicole about flaking on you this time, or are you just going to let it go, like you normally do?” he asked, setting the duffle bag on the floor.
“Honestly? I think I’m just going to stop agreeing to go out with her. She’ll get the point eventually, and maybe then, when she realizes what’s happened, we can talk.”
“Makes sense.” He popped open a drink and handed it to me. “Were you two really planning on watching any of these movies?”
“Why?”
“Because they’re all terrible.” He shuffled through the DVDs. “I know I’m the one who wanted company, but can we bypass the chick-flick thing?”
“In exchange for what?”
“I’ll watch one of your cooking shows in exchange for any of these. When Harry Met Sally? Maid in Manhattan? The Breakfast Club?”
“The Breakfast Club isn’t a chick flick.” I snatched that DVD from him. “I doubt she and I were going to make it through any of these.”
“Good.” He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, flipping it to the cooking channel I was watching before.
The chef had moved on from crème br?lée and was now getting ready to prepare a seven-course meal.
Carter handed me the remote and a handful of snacks. “Need anything else?”
“Would you like to take turns painting our nails when the show goes off?”
“Not at all. Is this a re-run?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“I’m just wondering,” he said, getting in bed behind me. “I wanted to know if I would be able to talk to you during the show.”
“You’re the one who was lonely and needed company. I was just fine.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.” I turned up the volume. “And even though it is a re-run, and you claim you hate cooking shows, I know deep down, you love watching them with me.”
He laughed, but he didn’t say anything else. He pulled me back by my shoulders until I was leaning against his chest.
I swallowed, ignoring the sudden tension between us and kept my eyes glued to the TV.
“Make sure you have the oven preset to 375 degrees. Not 350, not 400. 375.” The chef took out another set of ingredients.
Carter blew a soft breath against my neck and my breathing slowed. I tried to ignore the fact that my heart was now racing, that I could literally feel myself getting wet.
“This is how you want to season the vegetables.” The chef was smiling at the camera, showing off his different brushes, but I wasn’t paying any attention. I couldn’t.
Carter was kissing my neck every few seconds—letting his teeth softly graze my skin, and my body was betraying me by reacting to his every move.
“Could you get us some ice from the kitchen?” I broke away from him, once his hands began to massage my shoulders. “And some glasses, please?”
“Sure.” He smiled and stood up, leaving the room.
Shaking my head, I took several deep breaths and tried not to think too much. Then I moved to the other side of the bed, at the end, by his dresser.
Carter returned to the room and looked at me, holding back a laugh as he set the ice on his desk. He filled one of the glasses with juice and walked over, handing it to me.
“Any reason why you moved down here?” he asked.
“The view is better from here. Much better.”
“Do you mind if I join you and see for myself?”
“Yes.” My cheeks were on fire. “Yes, I do mind. You seemed to enjoy the view from where you were on the bed before, so …” I stopped talking once I realized he was ignoring me and moving behind me anyway.
He pulled me against him again and began to run his fingers through my hair.
I tried to zone in on what the chef was saying again, but it was no use. I’d seen this episode hundreds of times, cooked the meal alongside him quite a few times, and I could probably recite his recipe and instructions from memory.
Feeling Carter tug at my hair again, I turned around to face him. “Why aren’t you paying attention to the show?”
“Because I’d rather pay attention to something far more interesting.”
“Something like my hair?” I smiled. “Interested in the type of conditioner I used today?”
A smile formed on his lips and he looked like he was about to say something smart in return, but I beat him to it.
“Are you trying to have sex with me?” I asked.
“By running my fingers through your hair?” He smirked. “If that was the case, I think I would do something far more deliberate than that.”
“Like attempting to kiss me?”