Chapter 32 #2
I was so paralysed by the sheer shock of her boldness that I didn’t move.
I just sat there, which meant to anyone looking through the glass of this booth, it looked like I was leaning into it.
Every second my leg stayed pressed against hers felt like a fresh betrayal of the woman who was currently marking papers just a few buildings away.
Billie finally pulled her leg back, leaving a cold, stinging sensation behind. She stood up slowly. But she didn't head straight for the door.
Instead, she leaned over the desk right next to me. She was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body, close enough that her perfume became a physical weight. She was making a point, staking a claim on the air I was breathing. Where was this Blondie last term?
"A lot has changed, has it?" she murmured, her voice low and smooth. She looked down at my open laptop, scanning my meticulous notes, then flicked her gaze back to mine. There was no hurt left in her expression; it was a sharp, knowing curiosity that made my blood run cold.
"Be careful," Billie whispered, reaching for the door handle. "New routines are great, but the problem with 'serious' things is that they have so much more to lose when they break."
She slid the glass door open, disappearing into the maze of bookshelves, leaving me trembling in the booth.
I rubbed my face, feeling flushed. I needed to tell Carrie. Jesus, what had happened to Billie over the break? She used to melt the second I took the bait, leaving her blushing and soft. Now? It was like she had stepped onto a battlefield she thought she could win.
But I couldn't tell Carrie now. Not while she was at work. The woman was fluent in high-stakes power moves; once I told her, she would have Billie’s head on a silver platter. I took a few steadying breaths and forced myself to sit up straight.
I pulled out my phone, hovering over my chat with Carrie, and fired off a message before I could overthink it.
Alex: Hey, can I come over for dinner tonight?
So much for my grand plan of sticking to a timetable and giving us space. I was not trying to navigate this minefield over a phone call. My phone buzzed almost instantly.
Carrie: Of course you can, my darling. Would you like to meet me in the car park after I finish for the day, or will you be heading home first?
Just the thought of seeing her settled the static in my brain.
Alex: The car park, if you’re still happy to chauffeur me around, Dr. Carter?
Carrie: I am very happy to drive you around, princess.
There went my stomach, dropping into free-fall.
Carrie: Out of curiosity, do you have a driving licence?
I chuckled, completely caught off guard.
Alex: I do. Are you looking to take advantage of my qualifications?
Carrie: Hmm, no.
Alex: So, what are you thinking?
Carrie: I have an idea, but you’ll have to wait to find out.
Ah. A "Carrie idea." Those were usually expensive, exhilarating, and slightly terrifying.
It was enough to distract me from the Billie-shaped cloud hanging over my head—at least for now.
I took one last look at the empty booth across from me and decided that whatever Carrie had planned, I was going to need to be at the top of my game to handle it.
The drive to Carrie’s house was quiet—the comfortable, low-frequency hum that followed a long day. She pulled into the drive, the gates sliding open with mechanical grace. She parked in the cavernous garage and, as always, rounded the car to open my door.
“Thank you,” I smiled, my fingers trailing down the collar of her blazer as I brushed past. She rolled her eyes fondly, grabbing her bag and coat from the backseat.
I had grown to love the effortless rhythm of this. She hung her coat in the hallway cupboard, and I handed her mine. My heart suddenly jolted. The cupboard was less crowded; my jacket was hanging on its own dedicated hanger. Next to her boots, there was a perfectly clear space left for my trainers.
She was making a permanent place for me, piece by piece.
The sweetness was immediately soured by the reminder of why I was here. My expression must have shifted, because Carrie was suddenly in my space, combing her fingers through my hair. “Are you okay, darling?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, forcing a smile. I would be, once the Billie-shaped secret was not gnawing a hole in my gut.
She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but she just cupped my cheek and leaned in for a brief, tender peck. “Come on,” she murmured.
I followed her into the kitchen and nearly froze.
Richard was sitting at the dining table.
I had totally forgotten about him. He looked just as surprised to see me, his face quickly shifting into a neutral mask.
There was no way in hell I was confessing anything while he was sitting there like a vulture.
Carrie sensed my rigidity. Her gaze darted to Richard with a sharp, suspicious intensity. Before she could launch into whatever defence she was calculating, I found my voice.
“I, um... actually, Carrie, I was hoping to talk to you. About something private.”
Her face softened instantly. She didn't even look back at her brother.
“Richard,” she said, her voice like a cold blade. “Leave.”
Richard sighed, scooping up his empty plate. He sidestepped Carrie to slide it into the dishwasher, grabbing his drink to trek out of the room.
Carrie rolled her eyes. "Only employed people get to sigh like that, Richard."
I chewed on the inside of my cheek to stifle a laugh. Siblings will be siblings, but their dynamic was a special kind of brutal. Richard finally sauntered off, and Carrie followed him just far enough to close the kitchen door and slide the bolt home.
She turned back to me, her hand gliding up my back. “Are you okay talking in here, or would you prefer somewhere else, darling?"
I took a shaky breath. "Here is fine. Thanks."
Her thumb continued its slow rhythm against my spine, but then I saw a rare, terrifying flicker of vulnerability in her dark eyes.
"Alex," she said, her voice uncharacteristically cautious. "Is this going to be a... bad conversation?"
My eyebrows scrunched together. She thought I was about to end it. She thought I was walking away.
"Shit—no! Carrie, no. Nothing like that." I practically whined the words, my heart hammering. "I didn’t mean to swear, but no. Just... definitely not that.”
Carrie’s posture relaxed slightly, but she still gave me a pointed look. "Watch your language, Alex," she murmured. She guided us to the dining table, her touch light but firm.
I sat down, my fingers starting a frantic dance, twisting and picking at each other.
"Okay," I started, the words tumbling out. "So, I’m going to say a load of things, and I just need you to listen for a minute while I try to explain. Don't jump in yet. I need to make it clear that nothing has happened... like, now. Nothing bad. But I want you to know all of it. Every bit."
Carrie’s eyes narrowed, a sharp, predatory glint entering her gaze as she leaned in. Folded neatly on the table, her hands tightened until her knuckles were white. "Go on," she said, her voice a low register of anticipation.
“Before I started Uni, I slept with someone I met at The Dam. It was just a quick thing. I didn't even know her name.” I forced myself to meet Carrie’s eyes.
Her expression was a total blank slate. “When I started Uni, I got the shock of my life when that same woman walked into your seminar. That woman was Billie—Ms. Davies.”
Still nothing from Carrie. Not even a blink.
“She was freaked out too, panicking about how old I might have been. Once she realised I was actually in my twenties, she relaxed. And I... I was my usual ego-inflated self. I’d make her blush.
I slept with her again, just once, after Uni started.
Even then, I never made it seem like we were dating. "
The guilt was a physical weight now. “I hadn't given her a second glance once things started happening between us.
Why the hell would I? But... there was that one time.
When I was a terrified idiot after our first weekend together.
You know I went to see her, but I need to make it absolutely clear: I did not sleep with her, Carrie.
I promise. We made out, but I stopped it.
I stopped because all I could think about was you. "
I pushed through the last bit. “Since then, I’ve completely ignored her. I genuinely forgot she even existed over the break... until today.”
The atmosphere in the kitchen plummeted. Carrie didn't move, but her posture sharpened.
"Today," she repeated, her voice dropping to a dangerous, silky whisper. "What happened today, Alex?"
"I was working in one of the private booths in the library. Out of nowhere, there was a knock. It was Billie. She stepped inside and sat right across from me. I swear I tried to stop it, Carrie. I told her things were different, that I’m seeing someone—that I'm yours.
But she changed right in front of me. She wasn't that sweet, blushing assistant anymore.
Her whole face went cold. She was... assertive. Ruthless."
I swallowed hard. "She moved her leg under the table. She purposefully brushed it against mine and just... watched me. Like she was testing me. To see if she still had a hold."
Carrie’s jaw set so hard I was worried her teeth might crack. Her breathing became shallow, controlled.
"And?" Carrie prompted, the word vibrating with lethal power. "Did you let her?"
"No! God, no," I said, my voice desperate.
"I was in shock, I didn't expect it from her.
I pulled away as soon as I could find my footing.
She got up to leave, but then she leaned over me...
she didn't touch me, I swear, but she got close.
She told me to be 'careful' because 'serious things' have more to lose when they break. It felt like a threat."