Page 33 of Replay

I know mentioning the den would be a sore subject for him, but fuck that. He was acting like a spoiled child last night, so he deserves to suffer a little.

Carter

Ah, I see how it is. Yup, we’ll talk later.

I watch as the three dots appear and disappear multiple times before giving up on the conversation and focusing back on my friends. Frustration bubbles just below the surface, though.

Bellamy leans in, noticing the change in my demeanor. “You good?”

“Yeah, Carter finally texted… He seems pissed I'm here,” I answer truthfully. I keep my voice down, so the rest of the group doesn’t hear.

“Whatever. He deserves to be brought down a peg or two. Especially after last night. He was being a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. Let’s just drop it for now. I don’t want him to ruin my day,” I say, and she does without questioning me further.

That’s another thing I love about this girl. She’ll always have my back, no matter how reckless my decisions may be. She’s there for me. Darby would be in my corner too, but she had a team bonding thing tonight and had to skip out on dinner.

We all chip in to clear the table; Bell and I are on kitchen duty this week, so I'm stationed at the sink, loading the dishwasher while she puts away the leftovers.

I feel his presence behind me before he even speaks. “I’ll meet you all outside.”

Peeking over my shoulder at him, his nearness catching me a little off guard.

“I have to call Willow back; she’s called twice already today,” Nate replies to my wordless question.

I turn to him. “Is everything alright?” I ask, unsure if something might be wrong.

“She’s fine… Save me a spot?” he says with his mouth mere inches from my ear while his fingers make contact with my hip, and sensation floods my core yet again. Just like it did early today at the pool. Between his hands on me during the game and his whispered filthy words, I was a slut for his attention. Clenching my thighs together more than several times. I fight with all that I have not to lean back into him. I can’t give in so easily after all this time.

But how easy it would be…

I clear my throat and those thoughts. “Ugh, yeah, sure. Prob won’t be here too late; Bell has an early Monday class.”

I swear I feel his body shift just a smidge closer before he’s gone, and I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Fuck, did I want him to kiss me? To touch me more?

“Ladies, hurry up, we have the firepit going for some s’mores,” Mav yells from the back door. That helps us pick up our speed, and we finish in no time, then head out to the back deck.

I’ve always loved hanging out back here. The view they have of the mountains from the fire pit area is breathtaking, especially with the late summer sunset painting the sky.

Bell and I share a bench, while Mav, Cash, Graham, and Nola sit in their Adirondack chairs. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not disappointed Nate went upstairs instead of joining us out here.But what does that say about me? Am I weak for thinking that?

I'm lost in the flames of the fire when I smell the smoke from the joint Bell just lit up. She passes it my way, and I gladly accept the reprieve the high will give my racing mind.

I'm about to pass it back when Mav reaches for it. As I go to pull it away, a handsome grin spreads across his face.

“Chill, B, it’s no longer tested for. I'm allowed,” he chuckles.

I look to Bellamy for confirmation, like she’s their keeper. She just nods with a go-ahead look on her face.

Nola and Graham both decline since they’re in season, swearing they’ll participate when it’s over, but Cash, Mav, Bell, and I all take turns passing it along.

Once we’re done, we turn our attention to the s’mores construction. This is quite the comic relief… It seems the higher the individual, the crazier their concoctions. I think Mav had the winning combination with his Oreo peanut butter cup. My favorite out of the bunch, for sure, was using a Rolo instead of a Hersey’s bar.

I make an extra s’more, deciding I’ll bring it up to Nate and make sure everything is okay with Willow. I know this isn’t a good idea, especially since I’m trying to keep my distance, but I ignore that voice as I get up and walk inside, deliberately avoiding Bellamy’s gaze as I go. Letting the weed make the decisions for me, light and easygoing, nothing to be concerned about.

My knuckles wrap gently on his bedroom door, and I wait patiently for him to answer. I knock again after my first attempt goes unanswered. No answer.

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