Page 86 of Between Now and Forever

Not an acquired taste.

Not unique.

I know that this isn’t the real me. But, as men trip over their feet to get a second look, I think the old me and my refusal to conform might have been misguided.

This isn’t the night I wore that pink dress and concealed my stain. Everyone there knew me. They knew what was underneath the polish I put on. I can see now the difference between their smiles and the ones I’m getting today.

These men don’t know who my father is. They only see the woman I’m dressed as.

And despite all of their attention, all I wish is that Carter could see me now. My heart does a little jump. I’ve done everything they’ve wanted. Surely they’ll let me have a phone soon and I can call him and explain everything.

17

YOU GOT A HIT

CARTER

“You wantme to call you a car?”

The girl lying naked next to me raises one of her prone hands and lifts the curtain of hair off her face and peers up at me in groggy confusion.

“I thought I’d crash. It’s late.”

“Nope. You can’t stay.”

I pull the pillow she’s laying on out from under her.

“Hey!” She scrambles up to sitting.

“If you want, there’s some cash in the drawer by my door you can take it on your way out.”

I lay back down and drop the pillow on my face.

“You asshole.” The pillow is jerked off my head, and I growl, but give up on sleep and sit up.

I grope on my bedside table for the sunglasses I’ve taken to keeping there and slip them on before I open my eyes again.

I sit up and prop myself against my headboard and pick up the half smoked joint in my ashtray and light it before I look at the woman who’s now rushing around my room picking up her scattered clothes and putting them on hurriedly. I admire the sweet curve of her ass before it disappears under the dress she throws on over her head.

“It’s not you,” I drawl lazily.

She turns to look at me, her expression making it clear that the next words out of her moutharen’tgoing to be, “Oh, thanks for explaining, I feel better now.”

“What’s my name?” She crosses her arms over her chest and pins with me a death glare.

Shit.

I look closely at her. She’s one of the sound techs from last night, but for the life of me I can’t even begin to remember her name.

So, I guess.

“Marissa.” I say it like I’m insulted she asked.

“Fuck you, Carter. My name is Chloe.” She fastens her bra and puts her hands on her hips in frustration.

I look away. I feel weird seeing her undressed, even though less than twenty minutes ago, she was ass up in my bed.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Chloe. I’m really sorry. I should have explain—”

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