Page 55 of Carter

“Isn’t that true, Carter?” Rome then asked him, giving him a pointed look that put him on the spot. “She’s your…?”

Tensed and pissed, Carter ran his teeth over his bottom lip, answering in a hard voice, “She’s my best friend.”

I stared at him in disbelief. That’s it? I was his… best friend?

The world fell away. I swear, it did. The background was all black and empty as I looked to him with hopeless eyes, wondering why he wasn’t calling me something else.

How long was it going to take for him to open his eyes and see what I truly was? I was a fool for expecting more. I suppose I hoped being around him with other girls would make him realize he was technically taken.

Rome’s hand suddenly squeezed mine, and I wanted to smack him just then for putting Carter on the spot like that. What was his problem? It was almost like he’d done it on purpose, knowing exactly what to say and…

I sighed.Melanie.She’d put him up to this, hadn’t she? They’d been spending a lot of time together. I should’ve known, and truthfully, I knew they were coming from a good place. They were forced to witness this odd dance Carter and I were playing, and perhaps they were just as caught up in it as I was.

I tried to play it off with a fake smile. I shouldn’t be surprised. Not at all. Carter had never hinted that he would ever call me his girlfriend. It was silly to be here and “insert” myself like she told me to do. I turned away after that, telling them I had to get back to work, when really, I felt like a complete moron.

Minutes later, the band set up on stage. I nursed my broken ego, ignoring Mel’s questionable looks as I resumed giving people their orders. I wouldn’t let it get to me. Carter was kissing me at the end of every night, so who cares what he called me in front of everybody, right?

The twisted feeling in my chest said otherwise.

At the corner of my eye, I watched the guys prepare to perform. Carter wasn’t big about speaking on the mic. That was something Rome did from behind the drums. It should have ruined him somehow, but it gave him the complete oppositereaction. The girls thought he was mysterious, and I tended to roll my eyes when I heard some of the things they’d say.

“He’s just so deep of a guy.”

“He’s serious. Serious men are the most soulful.”

“I bet you he’s the most philosophical guy, like, ever.”

Puhlease.

They didn’t see him the way I did. Up every morning with just his briefs on, singing stupid songs on the spot as I walked around. This morning it was about me standing in the kitchen making toast. He rhymed toast and roast in a line that made no sense, and it was far,farfrom soulful.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I’d told him.

He played some cheap tune on his guitar again and sang, “If it doesn’t makesensethen Leah you’re”—pause— “tense.”

Ugh. That earned him a smack on the arm, but the memory made me smile.

See? I was stressing over nothing. We had something special, so I couldn’t understand exactly why tonight’s incident was getting to me the way it was.

I took a break sometime later, and with my back leaning against the wall beside the bar, I watched him get lost in his words, singing a song about sad memories. Sometimes he’d drop little things here and there, about a woman with curls and sad blue eyes. I had a feeling it was his mother he was singing about, and I wished he would open up to me about his past.

He’d come a long way since the very start. I remembered how nervous he was the first night he was due to go onstage. He’d been pacing the suite for hours while I got ready for my shift. After finding two other guitarists to form the band—Jared and Leo—they’d practiced for weeks in the garage. I thought that would have helped him get over his nerves, but actually being on a stage in front of strangers was different.

I tried to comfort him, only there was really nothing I could do. But then he came to me right before Rome drove us there and said, “If I asked you to stand where I could see you while I’m up there, would you do it?”

“Of course,” I told him. “You don’t even need to ask.”

He seemed extremely relieved by that, resting his forehead against mine. “Good. I need you, that’s all. If you’re there, I can just look at you and pretend it’s just us, you know?”

I’ll never forget how choked up that made me. Finally I could do something to ease him when he was hurting or distraught. I felt special to be the one to aid him when he was in need.

I simply smiled at him in response because I was sure he’d hear the break in my voice if I spoke. And when the time came for him to sing that night, I stood where he could see me, and he stared at me the entire time he sang. It was just us, at the creek, him unloading his soul to me, and me listening with bated breath.

Now it was natural for him to be up there. He didn’t look at me anymore unless I stopped in an obvious spot. He was all charm and confidence, no longer the man rocked with nerves at the sight of strangers.

He scanned the crowd in front of him, and whether he liked to admit it or not, he shined those fuck-me eyes at every girl, and they lost themselves in his allure. The screams were sometimes deafening. My jaw dropped when a pair of girls took out their cell phones and began recording him. What did they intend on doing with the footage? I wanted to ask, but Melanie had banned me from speaking to the “groupies” as she called them. Something about me causing bodily harm, which was absurd. I wouldn’t hurt anyone… too much.

Carter was slowly becoming somewhat of a legend around here, and the second he started on the girls, that legend status was going to explode.

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