Page 99 of Love at First Sighting
—El
Chapter 31
El
I haven’t seen Carter in a suit in six weeks.
Instead, I see him in a lot of sweatpants, cozy hoodies, plaid pajama pants, and worn band T-shirts. I’m learning I like him in shades of blue that bring out his eyes the most, but I’m discovering every new look has its own thrills to it.
In some ways, it feels like falling in love with a completely new person each time.
But I know better…
He’s still the same person, but I like how I can fall for him over and over again.
I learn that in curious ways. The last few weeks have been busier but also quieter than any time in my life. After a few days in the hospital, he was able to leave and start recovering at home. When we arrived at his apartment, Leonard asked zero questions about where we’d been and why we were all bandaged up.
He nodded and shut his door, then the sounds of battling orcs and dragons or whatever echoed from his room again.
We trust and love and respect Leonard for that.
Since we’ve been homebound for a while, we’ve gotten used to cohabitation. At first, it was mostly him sleeping through a haze of pain meds and taking it easy. Then, once he had more energy and was able to start moving around on his own, it looked like cooking together, snuggling on the couch to watch TV (I have gotten him to watch all ofAngel City Noirwith me), and learning that Carter likes to wake up with the sun and spends his mornings practicing his photography.
That time offered us a lot of chances to plan out the rest of our lives together. We decided quickly the best option would be to get an apartment together—move out of Leonard’s second bedroom. We have appointments for apartment tours next weekend and a decent budget between my sponsorship deals and Carter’s astonishing payout from the government for his “troubles.” We all know it’s hush money, but Carter is keen to keep his mouth shut and move on.
Even with all that free time, I didn’t post or plan content or worry about what people thought of my absence. I didn’t even post on Halloween. In prior years, it was a full masquerade of several costumes for different functions. My costume this year was yoga pants (not Spinx) and one of Carter’s cozy Dodgers hoodies. I spent time by his side, taking warm naps and waiting to take care of whatever he needed from me.
It’s how I learn there might not be anything wrong with giving and taking from people. I can give him care and affection when he needs it, because he’ll give it right back. He can ask me for help, and I don’t think of what he needs to do in return. He gets what he wants out of me and gives something back. It doesn’t feel like a favor or a game. It feels like love.
We might not be the strongest at solving mysteries or taking down bad guys, but I don’t think we’re going to be bad at loving each other.
The surprisingly bitter November air bites at my cheeks as I stare at rows and rows of headstones. It was a no-brainer Carter and I would be coming to pay them a visit today, on the anniversary of his dad’s death. We’ll plan to pay another visit in the spring for his mother. I give him a few minutes alone before joining him.
I sit beside him, cross-legged with knees bumping. It’s been more important than ever to remind him he’s not alone. My hand drapes over the inside of his leg, and our fingers weave together.
“You good?” I ask.
He freezes, like he doesn’t know the answer. Grief hits him in small pangs, but he’s been good at reminding himself that for the first time in fifteen years, the only person who can decide his happiness is him. And I can help. He nods slowly. “I will be.”
“You fill them in on the fact that Marcus is a grade-A dick?”
He gives a sad smile. “Yeah, I did.”
“Good.”
My lawyer handled settling our charges out of court—fines for destruction of property, a few moving violations from our car chase. But for the trespassing charges, we had some leverage to play with. There was enough fully spelled out in the backup file that we hardly had to be involved in Marcus’s sentencing—months of John Brody’s diligent snooping and his suspicions that something could happen to him. I don’t know if Carter would have had it in him to look atMarcus again—whether he felt rage or remorse—but neither of us was sad to skip the trial. We slept easy knowing it’s not likely Marcus will ever see anything outside his prison cell again.
Terra’s litigation for their involvement, meanwhile, is being broadcast and roasted on every news station.
“And about you,” Carter continues.
“Me?” I tease. “Oh, do tell.”
He pauses, brows raised, with a small laugh. “I don’t know, maybe I didn’t have anythingthatnice to say. There’s this girl I know who follows me around everywhere, and I think she’s watching me right now—”
“Yeah, okay, says the guy who literally followed me all over LA.”
“It wasonetime.” He looks down at our clasped hands and brushes his thumb along the back of mine.
