Page 109 of I'm Your Guy
“Yeah. I gotta buy a Secret Santa gift on my way to the stadium. It’s almost Christmas.”
“I could have done that for you,” he says. “I like to help.”
“Yeah, but I’d feel like a dick tacking extra stuff onto your job.”
“Oh.” He takes a deep breath. “Look, you’re right. My work here is done. And your mother arrives in, what, forty-eight hours?”
I nod, even though I can’t quite process how soon that is.
Carter looks really tense. “Look, I’ve mentioned before that I plan to make myself scarce before she arrives. But you always change the subject.”
“Well…” I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t really want you to go. I don’t like thinking of you staying somewhere unsafe over Christmas, or somewhere you feel unwanted.”
He lifts his gaze to mine, but it’s guarded. “You definitely don’t have to worry about my safety. I’ll be just fine.”
“Okay, but…” I take a deep breath, and then I make a suggestion. My feelings are so messy, but I’m just not ready for Carter to walk out of my life. “What if you just stayed here?”
His lips part, and I get momentarily distracted by how kissable he looks right now, with his cheeks still red from the December chill. He flushes when we’re in bed, too. His face. His chest. It’s my new favorite thing.
“How would that work?” he asks, jolting me back to the present.
“Uh…” This is the part I can’t quite figure out. “You’d stay upstairs, with me.”
His eyes widen. “Which I would definitely enjoy. But what are you telling your mom?”
“Um…” This is where I always get stuck. “That you’re in between apartments, so you’re staying with me. The rest is nobody’s business, right?”
His expression deflates. “Yeah, okay. But passing me off as a friend or a roommate—that’s a lie of omission. For me, anyway. I have feelings for you. So if I’m staying with you over Christmas, I can’t play a role like an actor on a stage.”
“Fuck,” I say under my breath. “I’m not good at this. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he says, rising to his feet. “And I know you have a big heart and good intentions. But I can’t do this, okay? I need to go.”
“Right now?” He can’t mean that.
“Why not now?” he asks. “Why delay the inevitable?”
“Because…” Because I need you here. I can’t say that though, can I? You can’t ask someone to lie, and then tell them you need them in the same breath.
This is all happening too fast. And I’m supposed to be walking out the door right now. “Look, this conversation isn’t finished, okay? You and I aren’t done.”
“All right,” he says quietly, but his sad blue eyes don’t seem to believe me.
“Come here,” I say, and it comes out sounding way too bossy. Oops.
But Carter moves to stand in front of me. I put my hands on his shoulders and squeeze gently. He’s warm and solid in my grip, and I feel a little zing of amazement that I’m lucky enough to touch him.
Carter studies me with a guarded expression, waiting to hear what I have to say.
But I’m not good with words. Never have been. So I tell him what needs telling in the best way I know how. I lower my mouth to his.
It’s nothing like our first crazy kiss against the refrigerator. It’s not impulsive. It’s deliberate. A slow, heady press, and the quiet snick of our lips in the silence of this room that Carter made for me.
It’s just a kiss, but it feels bigger. Like dropping a penny into a well. It only takes a second, but it’s irreversible. My heart is a lot like that penny, dropping slowly and quietly into the deep.
He pulls away first, his eyes still sad. “Have a good game tonight,” he whispers. “I’ll be watching.”
All I can think to say is, “Thank you.” And then I take my bag and go.
