Page 95 of The Charade

I twirled around to see who had found me. It took me a moment, but once the dark figure was about ten feet away, I realized it was Carter.

He stepped closer, and when his face was illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the glass roof above, I saw a look in his eyes that I'd never seen before.

They were wild.

Helooked wild.

His shirt was haphazardly tucked into his slacks, his tie loose around his neck, his hair mussed.

When he came closer, my heart thumped against my ribcage. And when he took another step forward, it didn't just thump, it crashed against my ribs like it wanted to jump out of my chest and into him.

Into his chest to be with the only other heart that had matched its beat so perfectly.

And when I looked at his face again, for the first time since meeting him, I wasn't completely sure I was safe.

Not unsafe in the sense that I should fear for my life or anything, but unsafe because this guy who always followed the rules and kept himself and his actions carefully controlled might just be as on edge as I felt.

"I found you," he said, his voice low and husky.

"You found me," I replied.

My eyes darted back and forth between his, trying to figure out what he meant to do now that he was here. I couldn't sense exactly what he was planning, but the feral look in his eyes told me that I should probably tell him to leave. I should tell him that it wasn't a good idea for us to be alone when we were both on edge like this, that we needed to take time for our feelings for each other to morph into something more appropriate.

But I couldn't force the words out of my mouth because my heart just wasn't in them.

My heart was already somewhere else.

With him.

It had left my body without my permission and was now burrowing itself away so deep inside him that it would have to be dug out piece by piece before it could be sewn back together and returned to me.

And suddenly, the part of me that had been hurting all week—the part that I knew was irrational and sensitive—started asking, "Why have you been avoiding me?" My voice broke. "Why have you been skipping all of our tutoring sessions? Why have you been glaring at me all night like you can't stand to see me anymore?" My chest heaved as the pain from the past few days poured out with my questions. "Why have you been acting like I'm some sort of infectious disease that you can't put enough space between us? Is this how it's going to be from now on? Can we not even be friends?" I looked up at him, desperation tearing through my body as the words flooded out of me. "If we’re related, are you just never going to talk to me ever again? Are you just going to ignore me for the rest of my life?"

By the time I was able to stop vomiting words all over him, I had so much pent-up frustration coursing through me that I could probably light the whole strip of Las Vegas with the barely restrained energy.

Carter just stared at me with his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands flexing at his sides as if trying to calm himself after I'd assaulted him with my words. But then he shook his head and in a too quiet voice, he said, "Do you think I like this?" he asked, stepping closer. "Do you think I like it that I can't look at you without wanting you? Do you think I like that when you walked down the stairs tonight and I saw you in your dress, all I could think about was how much I wanted to just take you away from here so I could hold you and touch you and kiss you until we both forgot who we really might be to each other?"

I took a step back, feeling hot all over, not expecting the intensity of his words.

"What do you want me to say?" He took my hands in his. "I. Can't. Stop. Thinking about you." He enunciated each word, each admission pumping blood back into my heart. "I mean, I have dreams about you, Ava." He glanced to the side and bit his lip. Then he looked down at his shoes.

"I—" he started. "I wanted to keep tutoring you. I wanted for us to still be friends and hang out with everyone like it's normal." He flicked his cool blue eyes back up to mine and said in a husky voice, "But I'm too attracted to you. I'm so freaking attracted to you Ava, it's insane." He sighed heavily. "And I mean, I know we can't be together. It's perverted. It's wrong. But…" He sighed again. "I don't know if I can control myself when I'm around you."

His shoulders drooped, as if he felt defeated admitting all these things to me. And as everything he'd just said sunk in, it felt like lightning striking me right in the heart.

Like lighting striking his heart and mine at the same time because they were one.

He looked down again, rubbing his thumbs across my knuckles, sending electric waves coursing up the veins in my arms.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter—just a whisper that I could barely hear over the music drifting to us from the ballroom in the background. "And I'm sorry." He leaned his forehead against mine. "I should have told you I couldn't make it on Thursday. I should have warned you that I needed space—that as much as I want to spend every single waking minute with you, I can't. I can't tutor you anymore. I can't be your friend right now. Not when I'm trying to come to terms with being your brother."

I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath through his speech until my lungs felt like they were going to collapse as they screamed out for oxygen. I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs with much-needed air, hoping it would clear my head which had become fuzzier and fuzzier the longer Carter spoke.

He hasn’t turned off his feelings. He doesn’t hate me.

He'd only been trying to come to grips with our possible new reality and putting the necessary space between us so we didn't do something we'd later regret.

Which meant, I should probably leave.

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