Page 66 of Unhinged Love

But in a good way. Like I’m about to get on a roller coaster.

He even makes it a point to trot beside me as we hurry to class. Like he’s making a point, ensuring everybody knows he’s protecting me now. I’m overwhelmed and, as long as I’m being honest with myself, a little uncomfortable at the attention he brings. Nobody says anything for once, but I feel their curiosity. Their judgmental stares.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned how to deal with, it’s people staring at me.

But usually when they do, I’m all alone. I’m not alone now.

“I’ll see you later,” he says when he drops me off. “Wait here for me, and I’ll meet up with you.” I don’t have time to ask him if he’s for real before he jogs off.

My head is spinning, and my heart is fluttering, and I really hope this isn’t all for show. I mean, even if it is, he’s helping me. Nobody is going to mess with me while he’s around.

But I realize once I slide into the closest seat to the door that I kind of hope he’s for real. More than kind of.

And when I leave the classroom and find him coming my way down the hall, I smile before I can help myself. I wish he didn’t look so much like my savior.

It’s a thought that stays with me the rest of the day as Carter chaperones me from one class to another. He hovers almost protectively once we reach the cafeteria, where we have lunch with the usual group of people. They all seem ready to forget what happened earlier this week—at least, they don’t mention it when we sit down with them and attack our food.

“Thank god,” Carter groans after sinking his teeth into an Italian sub. “We were in too much of a rush to have breakfast this morning.”

“Were we?” Wren arches an eyebrow at me, thanks to his choice of words.

“Yeah, we stayed up late, watching movies,” I explain. I shudder to think of the reaction we would get if everybody knew we slept together in the literal sense. After everything that went down this week? I would basically lose all credibility with the girls, who must still expect me to hate him. At least he doesn’t add anything to the story. He’s too busy scarfing down his sandwich, thank god.

To change the subject, I ask, “Have you girls ever watched theIron Manmovies? I really like them.”

“Oh, you’ve got her watching them with you?” Tucker almost looks jealous. “I can’t get Maya into any of the Marvel movies.”

“Next thing you know, you’ll be telling us you like watching football,” Maya jokes.

I can only shrug, wincing. “I actually do.”

For once, when everybody laughs, they’re not laughing at me. They’re laughing with me. I can laugh, too, and it feels amazing. I could get used to it.

I’m still thinking about it later in the day, after my last class. It’s completely foreign and probably dangerous as hell, but I almost feel hopeful when I spot Carter coming my way. “Ready to go home?” I ask. For once, I don’t dread it. Yet another miracle.

“Actually, no,” he replies with a frown.

There goes my heart, sinking as usual. “Oh.” He always has to keep me on my toes, doesn’t he? “I guess I could get an Uber, unless you think you could drop me off.”

His laughter is gentle. Not the snide, nasty laughter I’m so used to hearing from him and everybody else in my life. “I was thinking maybe we could get an early dinner. I know it’s not even five o’clock, but I don’t think I feel like eating macaroni and cheese again tonight, and it’s all I know how to cook.”

Something about his simple earnestness makes me laugh along with him. “Yeah, that would be nice. Even though I loved that mac and cheese.” It was surprisingly good.

Walking next to me out of the building, he jokes, “Yeah, you loved it so much you went into a carb coma. I guess I wouldn’t make a very good chef. All of my customers would fall asleep at the table.”

Why can’t he always be like this? He’s in a good mood, he’s charming, he’s just a normal person. There’s no anger or resentment, no acting like a big, bad man, so I’ll be afraid of him or intimidated by him.

He’s just… Carter. And I like Carter.

Maybe I need to have my head examined or something.

“What’s so funny?” he asks once he joins me in the truck.

I didn’t even realize I was grinning. “Nothing. I guess I’m just in a good mood.”

The way he smiles at that makes my mood even better. Jesus, what is happening here? How did things change so quickly?

All I know is, it’s not long before I’m sitting across from him at a table in the middle of the same Mexican restaurant where we had lunch with Mom and Paul before they left on their weekend trip. Before the fateful party. The night everything changed.

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