Track 16 Love Story
CARTER
“Hello?” Josh waved his hand in front of my face. “Hello?”
“What?”
“Are you going to be my wingman tonight or what?” He sipped his drink. “I get the blonde and you get the brunette.” He pointed his head toward the girls in the booth across from us.
“Not interested,” I said. “But I’ll stick around for another hour or so.”
“Not interested?” He looked dumbfounded. “Do you see the brunette? Do you see her body?”
I looked over again and she waved at me, blushing.
“I do see her,” I said.
“So, what’s the problem? Has your mission to get laid as much as possible this summer changed between last week and now?”
An image from last night, one of Ari straddling me in my car, crossed my mind. “Not really …”
“Good.” He finished his beer and slammed the empty bottle onto the table. “Then be my wingman.” He stood up and I followed suit, walking over to the other booth.
“Good evening, ladies.” Josh signaled to the waiter as he sat down. “I’m Josh, and this is my good friend, Carter. Do you mind if we join you?”
They both agreed and I smiled my way through the first round of drinks and pointless topics, not paying any of them much attention. My mind was elsewhere, mainly on Arizona.
Ever since that day at the marina, we’d spent the last few nights at my place—watching her cooking shows and discussing random things like normal, but slipping in a brand new abnormal state of sex at the end of the night.
Each and every time with her was more memorable than the last, and I’d never yearned to have someone so many times in a single night before.
Besides a few random messages she’d sent me this morning, we hadn’t spoken much at all. She had an all-day cooking exam at the culinary school, and they’d told her that they wouldn’t kick her out for a change.
Looking at my watch, I figured she should be home by now, so in the middle of the brunette telling me that she’d have her apartment all to herself tonight, I texted Ari.
How did your test go?
I think I aced it.
Really f-ing aced it.
Good for you. Did you celebrate with your classmates yet?
Ha! You know everyone in the class hates me. LOL (I’m a “thief,” remember?) I just came home and decided to bake myself an éclair.
You only baked one?
Yes. Only ONE. What are you up to?
Out with Josh, role-playing wingman.
Okay.
Okay, what?
Nothing. How is it going?
You know you don’t really care how it’s going.
If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked … How. Is. It. Going?
It’s going so well that I’d rather leave and come to your house to celebrate your exam with you.
Well, you can’t.
And why is that?
Because I don’t want company right now, especially not from some guy I slept with last night, some guy who is now being a wingman, so he can sleep with someone else!
Ari …
CARTER …
Does the all caps mean you’re upset?
NO. NOT AT ALL.
In that case … First of all, I’m not “some guy,” I’m your best friend. Second of all, did you not catch what I typed previously … “role-playing”? Pretty sure I would tell you if I was seriously looking for someone else … I always have, have I not?
…
If I can’t celebrate with you in person, can you at least pick up when I call you after this? I’d like to have at least one intelligent conversation today.
…
What does the “…” mean?
They mean yes.
But no to me coming over tonight?
HELL NO to you coming over tonight. :-)
“Carter?” Josh suddenly cleared his throat to get my attention. “Can I talk to you by the bar for a minute?”
“Sure.” I followed him out of the booth and into a small hallway. “What do want to talk about?”
“Two things: One, tonight you’ve been a terrible wingman. Absolutely fucking terrible.”
“I told you hours ago that I didn’t feel like doing this tonight.”
“Two…” He ignored my comment. “It’s actually a good thing. Now that the brunette is convinced that you’re as fun as a dead fish—”
“Her name is Farrah.”
“Same thing.” He shrugged. “They both want to come home with me … Just me.” He stood there smiling, nodding his head slowly.
“Are you waiting for some applause?” I asked.
“No.” He held back a laugh. “I just need you to hold off on coming home until later—a lot later. You know, so we can use the living room, and those floor to ceiling windows. I’ve always wanted to do something with those.”
“Why can’t I just go home first? Like, right now?”
“Because I just paid the check and they’re more than ready to leave now.” He gave me a pointed look. “More than ready.”
“Whatever, Josh. Go.”
“I knew you’d understand.” He gave me a high five and returned to the booth.
A part of me was actually grateful that I wouldn’t have to stay another second, but without being able to go straight home, I needed something to do.
Restless, I decided to drive around for a while, so I slid behind the wheel and hit the highway. When I veered onto a familiar exit, I pulled out my phone and called Arizona.
“Hello?” she answered on the first ring. “Is this Josh’s wingman?”
“It isn’t.” I laughed. “Seeing as though he got both of the girls in the end, I don’t think that’s an appropriate title for me at all.”
“He’s going home with two girls?” She scoffed. “Are you sure he’s the best option for a roommate for when the two of you start law school? You sure you don’t want to find another one?”
“Not unless you plan on withdrawing from Cleveland and staying here to go to culinary school. I’d definitely pick you over Josh for a live-in roommate.”
“Ummm.” She was smiling; I could tell. “I very much appreciate the offer, but Cleveland is where I belong. How was your day?”
“Uneventful. Read a few early articles for the fall, fixed a few things on my car, and apparently made my best friend upset.”
“Somewhat upset … She’s not the psycho-jealous type.”
“Hmmm.” I suddenly didn’t feel like driving anymore, so I tried to find a parking spot. “What do I have to do to make it up to you?”
“You can give me a foot massage.” She laughed. “That seems like something you wouldn’t enjoy.”
“I can do that,” I said. “Open the door.”
“What?”
“I’m outside your house. Open the door.”
“What part of ‘Hell no to you coming over tonight’ didn’t you understand?” There were papers rustling in the background.
“I must’ve misinterpreted that text … Open the door.”
She hung up and the door opened seconds later.
“Yes?” Arizona narrowed her eyes at me, trying to look upset but failing at it. “Something I can help you with tonight, Carter James?”
“Letting me inside would be a good start.” I stepped forward. “Or I can force you to, if you’d like.”
“I’d like to see you try …”
She stood there, not moving, so I picked her up—tossing her over my shoulder and made my way inside. I carried her over to the couch and tossed her onto it, and then I shut the door.
“You really only made one éclair to celebrate?” I asked.
“No.” She grinned. “Yours is on the counter.”
“Thank you.” I walked over and picked it up—devouring it before joining her on the couch.
“That was very good,” I said, smiling at her.
“Thank you …” She started to lean against me, as if I was going to wrap my arm around her shoulders, but I prevented her from doing that. Instead, I pulled her into my lap, so she was facing me, so I could look into her eyes and taste her lips a few times.
“This doesn’t seem like you’re getting ready to prep for a foot massage,” she whispered. “Do you know how those work?”
“I know exactly how they work.”
“So why are your hands cupping my ass instead of my heels?”
“Because, while I will definitely be giving you a foot massage to make up for my completely minor offense tonight, I’m going to fuck you senseless first.”
Her cheeks turned red.
“That is the point you were trying to get across when you sent me all those evasive texts before your exam this morning, correct?”
“Maybe …” She blushed again and I kissed her lips, slowly pushing her out of my lap.
“Bend over the couch …”