Page 13 of My Sweet Cherry
Isabella nodded excitedly. “Exactly what she said. Now, spill, girlfriend.”
“Nothing happened.” I shook my head, climbing onto my bed and crossing my legs. It wasn’t completely true, but how much did I really want to tell them? When they both cocked their heads to the side and pursed their lips, I knew they didn’t consider my answer to be sufficient. I sighed. “Fine. I thought maybe Ethan and I were going to get along. Turned out he was a total jerk, and Carter burst into the room and—”
“Wait, he what?” Isabella sat up straighter, and Amy’s eyes widened.
I took a deep breath, wishing I was back in his car. “He must’ve heard me. He made Ethan stop and then brought me home. And that was it.” I brushed my hands together like it wasn’t a big deal—like I hadn’t put myself in a dangerous situation and been lucky because Carter was there. “Like I said, nothing happened.”
“Do you realize who he is?” Amy asked. Her voice was nearly a whisper, like she was trying to stop anyone else fromhearing through the thin walls.As if they haven’t already heard everything else.
“Who?”
Isabella kicked her legs off the side of the bed. “Carter.”
Carter? What did they mean? I shook my head. “No. Who is he?”
“He’s, like, the richest guy on campus. Or… one of them.” Amy started to get excited. I thought about the leather interior in his car that still smelled new.
“So?” Did it matter?
“So you’re, like, dating a millionaire!” Isabella shrieked, and I put my hands up in front of me, crossing my arms to form an “X.”
Then I shook my head again. “We’re not dating. He’s just some guy I know.”Apparently a very rich and overly protective one.
Amy and Isabella looked at each other like I was missing a joke, then they climbed back into bed. Even though they’d made it clear the conversation was over, I knew it wouldn’t be the last I was going to hear about it. “If you say so,” Amy said.
Isabella laughed. “That’s how it always starts.”
Chapter 13
Beth
Was I really doing this? The last time I was in this apartment, it started the rumor that put me in this situation in the first place. I took a deep breath, convincing myself that I owed Carter a thank you for getting me home safely—no matter how ridiculous I felt cradling thatthank youin one hand while I knocked with the other.
Carter opened the door, lifting his brow when his eyes landed on the box in my hand. “Beth? What are you doing here?” He leaned against the door frame, kicking one leg over the other. His hair was messy, but perfectly so, like it was the right amount of effort to look like he’d put in no effort. How did he do that?
“I wanted to bring this to you. To say thank you again for the other night.” When I realized I was still holding the pie to me, I thrust my arms out toward him, cringing.Smooth, Beth.“It’s a pie. They had them at the union bake sale.”
“Pie?” Carter took the box, taking my nerves with it. When he smirked, I wished I was still holding the box in front of me like it was some sort of protective shield. “Do you want to come in for a piece?”
Did I? I looked past him, hoping the apartment was empty before I answered. “Yeah, okay.”
Carter stepped aside, letting me in. I scanned the familiar room—it looked different without the cloud of expectation hanging over it. Relief flooded me when he looked over his shoulder. “Nobody’s here.” Then he chuckled, and the sound woke the butterflies in my stomach. “So what kind of pie did you get?” he asked, opening the lid to the box.
“Cherry.” The sweet smell drifted into the room, and my cheeks warmed with embarrassment when my stomach growled. “I hope you like cherry,” I added quickly, realizing that he may have preferred apple or blueberry.
“Who doesn’t?” He winked, cutting into the pie and placing a messy slice on two plates. “You know, you didn’t have to bring me anything. I was happy to help.” Carter handed me one of the plates, still holding onto the edge of it when I grabbed it.
I stared at him, my gaze bouncing from his to where our hands were dangerously close to touching. It was like the air in the room got thicker—heavier—the longer I stared, even though I was sure it was only a couple of seconds. I sucked in a breath of sugar-coated confidence and leaned forward, stretching onto my toes and leaning over the pie between us. Carter’s eyes narrowed just slightly before I met his lips with mine. I breathed in his exhale, realizing what I had done. My lips were touching Carter’s.
I gasped and took a step back, bringing the piece of pie with me and leaving Carter where he was standing with a smirk on his face. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said, setting the plate on the counter and turning. “I should go.”
Carter’s hand closed around my wrist, stopping me mid-step, and my pounding heart crashed into my chest when it kept rushing for the door. “What are you apologizing for?” When he didn’t let go of my arm, I turned back toward him. He didn’t look angry or upset.
“For kissing you.” I looked at the uneaten pie on the counter, reminding myself that I had come here to thank him and not to find out if he was a better kisser than his roommate.He is.
“Don’t apologize.” He took a step toward me, silently taking my breath away when I could smell his cologne.
I shook my head, debating between hiding my face and stuffing it full of pie because having cherry filling all over my lips had to be less embarrassing than kissing a man who could clearly do better. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth and bit down, noticing that Carter’s gaze followed.
