Page 37 of Between Now and Forever

It’s not just that he’s hot and in to me.

It’s that he’s not from around here, has no clue who I am and is treating me like I’m normal.

I’m being myself, Ilooklike myself and he’s still into me.

“He hasn’t seen all of you, Liz” The devil on my shoulder taunts.

“He’s seen all of you that matters. That birthmark doesn’t change who you are.” The angel on my other shoulder counters.

I checked that the rain hadn’t washed away what was supposed to be waterproof makeup. I said a quick prayer of gratitude when I found it still in place. I don’t know what he’d think if he saw it, but for tonight, at least, I don’t have to worry about that.

I washed the mud off my toes and legs and threw on the leggings and T-shirt his mother brought. The heady smell of rain and smoke that clung to him is now all over me, too.

I wonder how long I can go without showering. I sigh like a school girl with her first crush.

When I reach the bottom landing, I turn right and head toward the sound of voices coming from the back of the house.

It’s cozy, well-lit, and cool.

As I get closer, I can make out three distinct male voices and two women. They’re having a boisterous conversation, laughing and talking over each other so that it’s hard to follow the conversation. At least for me.

I’m holding my breath as I watch, afraid that if they know I’m there, the scene in front of me would come to a stop.

Andthatwould be a shame.

Because,thisis a family.

A real one that does this sort of thing regularly and enjoys every second of it.

Carter throws his head back and laughs at something his sister, the same woman who ran past me at the lake, is showing him on her phone. I wish I could capture him just like this.

I couldn’t believe it when I opened my eyes to see him standing in front of me. I’d been alone all day, and my whole “me time” enthusiasm was fizzling fast. I was surrounded by people who were talking, laughing, kissing, hugging.

When the sun started to set, I pulled out my notebook to start sketching only to find that I’d lost my pencils.

The tears I’d been holding back all day finally broke free. I sat there and cried and didn’t bother to hide my face while I did because I knew that no one would notice anyway.

When I was done, I felt surprisingly okay. Sure, it sucked that Duke had turned out to be such a piece of crap. But I wasout. I didn’t know when, if ever, I’d have the chance to do something like this again.

So, I got up and decided to dance with myself. And like some sort of divine reward for my decision, Carter Bosh walked up and flipped my entire world upside down.

It might sound extreme to some ears.

But for a girl who’s first time had been a pity fuck from a guy who didn’t want anyone to know he’d been with her, it was like a revelation. I wish I’d met him three weeks ago because I can tell he would have made it just the way I’d hoped. Sure, he’s a little brooding, and guarded. But he’s also chivalrous and charming. And when he touches me…my skin tingles – long after his hand has moved on. And for this girl who’s never even been kissed, it feels earth shattering in the best possible way.

Still sight unseen, I allow myself a languid perusal of his face. As I do, I’m imagining I’m drawing him. His face is a study in symmetry. He’s got a pair of unfathomably deep green eyes that are set wide and fringed by thick, dark lashes. His dark brows are strong and slashing – and when he’s not smiling, he looks like he’s thinking about kicking someone’s ass.

His lips are wide and full with a sensual bow in the center of the top one. His clean-shaven jaw is strong and is bisected by a small cleft.

He’s handsome all the time. But outrageously so when he smiles and the perfect, nearly austere symmetry of his face is disrupted by the lopsided lift of his lips.

I look around the table. At the head of it is an older man who must be his father. His blond hair is cut short, with a deep part and is completely free of the gray that the age on his face says should be there.

He’s dressed like Hugh Hefner, a cravat in the chest pocket of his dark red silk robe and all. He gazes adoringly at his family as they talk. He and Penn are holding hands and his thumb is sweeping back and forth over her palm, in the absently intimate way that I imagine comes with a lot of time and plenty of luck.

Penn is a beautiful woman.

If Carter hadn’t called her mom, I would never have guessed it. Not just because she’s so fair – she’s even blonder than her husband – where he’s so dark.

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