Page 52 of Carter

19 years old

“Um, excuse me,” said a girl’s voice, patting me on the shoulder. “Can you tell me which one of those guys is Carter Matheson?”

I turned around from the table I’d just served and saw two girls standing in front of me. They were chewing bubble gum, smiles wide as they shamelessly gawked at a table in the far distance. I sighed for thetenthtime today only because I’d answered that question for thetenthtime today.

“The one in the black—”

“Leather jacket,” one of the girls interrupted with a squeal. “I fucking knew it, Anne. The hottest one is him. Ohmigosh! Thanks, Melanie.”

Melanie?

I looked down at the name on my uniform. Ugh, I’d taken Mel’s one again. She’d been doing her clothes at my place since her washer broke. By the time I opened my mouth to correct them, the girls were long gone. Probably at Carter’s table already, so they could fawn all over him. I avoided staring in thatvicinity, only because my jealousy levels might have turned me into a homicidal maniac.

Just seven months after Fatal Rebellion was formed—and man I hated that name—they were somewhat of a household name in Abbotsford. At least for the younger generation anyway. The bar was overrun by college goers, and so,somany girls. Like flies to shit, Carter was a popular piece of eye candy.

Just like I predicted.

Just like I hoped.

Rome’s parents were loving it. Business was booming, the band was getting a nice slice of the pie per night, and I guess I was the only one having a little bit of a problem about it. The problem involved scantily clad girls around a man that refused to call me more than a friend, yet fucked me hard most nights until I was crying into the pillow, riding out the most earth shattering orgasm.

Yeah, pretty blunt shit like that was going on inside that head of mine.

No big deal.

It was fine.

“You’re looking all depressed again,” came Mel’s voice in my ear.

I plastered on a fake smile and turned to her. “No, I’m not depressed. I’m just… spectacular.” If spectacular meant bitter and pissy.

She raised a dark brow. “Spectacular?”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s Carter again, isn’t it?”

I didn’t respond.

I looked around the bar, hoping to God someone would raise their hand to me and demand my attention. The last thing I needed was Melanie talking my ear off about Carter. From not wanting to tell her anything to realizing she was like my otherhalf, she knew a little too much, had become my best friend since I’d started working here, and I guess I got carried away finding a confidante in another female.

But she was great. An absolute life saver in a world of testosterone. It was good to be away from Carter and Rome every now and again, especially in the beginning when they argued non-stop. At least now things had cooled off tremendously, and they got along around the time Rome started jumping girls. I always suspected Carter finally let the resentment go when he didn’t view Rome as a threat anymore, but that was completely wishful thinking.

Because with Carter, who the fuck really knew? His shell was impenetrable; if it were a metal, it’d have been made of chromium.

Turning to Mel, I quietly asked, “Is he flirting?”

She looked over my shoulder and I tried to make out the answer in her face. Her thin lips pursed, and her eyes flickered to mine. I saw sympathy in her expression, and my shoulders sagged.

“I can’t say that he’s flirting per say, but he doesn’t look like he’s discouraging the girl who’s talking to him,” she explained.

“Which girl is it?” I lifelessly asked.

“Some blonde girl with big tits in a red skirt.”

“What’s Big Tits doing exactly?”

“Trying to shove said tits in his face.”

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