Page 79 of Carter

My heart couldn’t take it.

I threw off my short heels and meandered to my bedroom, knocking into several walls on the way there. When I finally made it to the bed, I attempted to remove my pants because they were tight as hell and my stomach hurt.

Unfortunately, they only made it halfway down my legs, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to keep trying. I fell over and collapsed into the mattress, my legs hanging off the edge.

Everything went black.

*

The next morning I would awake to find myself completely in bed, jeans off, covers over top of me, with the heater blasting from the corner of the room.

That just made me cry.

Twenty-Eight

“Leah.”

He shook me awake, and I barely opened my eyes.

“You’ve been in here the entire day. You need to get up now.”

My head was pounding too much to move. I just shook my head. I needed sleep. Reality could wait a little while longer.

The covers went off me, and I instantly shook from the chill. His strong arms wrapped around me, and I shook my head in protest, but he didn’t care. He lifted me off the bed, and I curled into him, resting my forehead against his warm chest. He held me tightly on the way out of the bedroom, moving into the bathroom.

I didn’t understand why he was being so gentle. I’d hurt him last night.

Why was he acting like nothing happened?

I opened my eyes and watched him lean into the shower stall. He turned on the water and slowly set me down. I stood, flushed against him, staring down at our feet. I felt embarrassed and uncertain. I was disgusted by my behaviour and unsure how I should apologize. No words seemed fitting enough.

“You smell,” he then told me, light-heartedly. “You need to clean yourself up, Angel.”

Angel.

That was the last thing I was.

I nodded weakly but made no intention of moving. His hands grabbed at my shirt. “Lift your arms up,” he directed. When I did, he removed it and tossed it on the floor. I continued staring at the floor as he unclasped my bra and let that too drop. When his fingers snaked around the hem of my underwear, I looked up at him. He met my gaze, and he looked tired. So damn tired. And defeated.

It was my doing.

“Carter—”

“No talking. Let’s just shower and not say a word for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because I think it’ll help.”

I didn’t see how it could. I’d been horrible, and he was being sweet.

He helped me into the shower, and I stood under the spray. The fog slowly cleared, especially when he quickly threw his own clothes off and joined me. My eyes wandered every inch of his skin. It felt like an eternity since I’d seen him naked. I swallowed, but the rock in my throat bounced back up. I turned away from him so that my back faced him and ran my fingers through my hair.

His hands grabbed at my shoulders and he brought me to him. His arms went around me. He dipped his face to me and whispered, “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean what you said, alright? You were trying to hurt me. I get it.”

I covered my face and breathed deeply. He just held me like that for a long while, and then he pulled away and helped wash me.

I didn’t deserve this.

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