Page 29 of Sinful as They Come
“God, Holly.” Carter rolled his eyes. “What, you came over here to rub the game in my face or something?”
I quickly shook my head. God, I was already making mistakes. “No! Of course not. I just meant… Look, you were still so good that night. And you’re so important to the team. You’re the captain, Carter. You’re the leader. You’re the guy the team looks to when they need help. And you’re always there for them.”
Carter huffed, sitting up in bed. “None of that means shit.”
“What do you want me to do?” I was practically pleading with him at that point.
“Apologize,” he said the word fast, his crystal blue eyes narrowed.
I blinked at him, gripping on to the plastic bag in my hands that little bit harder. “You… You want me to say sorry?”
“Well, isn’t that why you’re here?”
“But…” I shut my eyes, trying to make sure my voice wasn’t shaky or anything. “But you were the one who…” My voice trailed off when I opened my eyes back up again. I looked straight at Carter and he was staring right back at me, defiant as ever.
Sometimes I thought that Carter was too confident for his own good. That confidence was what attracted me to him in the first place. But sometimes it could be too much, and at that point, as I stood there still in the doorway of his bedroom, I had no idea how to handle all of thatbravado.
“I’m sorry,” I said the words. They were barely a whisper. It was almost as if I was trying to convince myself to mean them.
“You should be.” Carter stood up from the bed. “But I forgive you. Now get over here.”
I almost jumped into his arms. Despite how bad he had been making me feel, I still just wanted to fall into him and have him hold me. And I did just that. I let the bag of food hit the floor as I pressed myself into Carter’s hard chest. He held me nice and close, his big arms wrapped around me so tight. It was how things were meant to be. Nice and calm. God, I loved it when Carter was calm. When he wasn’t obsessed with football and points and impressing the guys.
“But… If you’re really sorry, I need you to do something for me.” Carter broke the silence, but his grip stayed tight on me.
“Anything.” I stared up at him, so thankful to be close to him again. His scent was so present, the masculine cologne so familiar to me. I had been missing it and him. And how sweet he used to be to me.
“You said you had that little freak writing sports, right?” Carter moved a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I ignored the little insult and nodded. “Brodie? Yeah. He sent it to me yesterday, actually…” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Because Carter certainly wouldn’t have liked the contents. It didn’t put Carter down or anything. Not directly. But it was filled with so much praise for Lucas that it was easy to miss Carter’s presence in that game.
“And? What did it say?”
“It… It was just…” How did I explain it to him? Carter liked being praised. I knew that. And I didn’t blame him. He had so much on his plate. It wasn’t fair when people didn’t acknowledge how hard he worked.
“Did it talk about me?” he asked sharply. “Did it mention how good I was? How good of a captain I am, and how that shitty team would be nothing without me?”
“It honestly mostly talked about Lucas,” I said sheepishly. “And how he—”
Carter sucked in an angry breath, shaking his head. “Cut it. Cut hisstory.”
“But… I can’t do that, Carter.” I stared at him. “Brodie wrote a piece and as the editor, it’s my job to include it.”
“It’s also your job to cut shit that you don’t want in the paper.”
“But… If I cut it, I’ll have no time to get Brodie to write something else. I’m going to get everything printed tonight so it’s ready for tomorrow,” I tried to explain.
“So?”
“So… Brodie’s piece will be totally removed. It would be so unfair to cut his story just because…”
“Just because what?” Carter asked. “Just because you wanna make him happy? What about me? What about howIfeel? You know, sometimes I feel like you don’t even think about what you do to me. It’s like you think about everyone elseexceptme.” Letting go of me, he took quick steps back to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. “What’s with that, Holly?”
“Carter…” I sighed. “I can’t do what you’re asking.”
“Why?”
“I told you. It’d be unfair. Brodie worked hard on that article.”
