Page 88 of No More Secrets
“Niko? No! Never,” she laughed. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m the longest relationship with a woman he’s ever had besides his mother.”
His hands stilled on her feet. “Can I ask you something without you getting upset?”
“Maybe?”
“Why do you do this kind of work?”
“What do you mean?” Summer asked, resting her head on the back of the couch.
“You’re smart, you’re talented. But you’re real. You don’t fit here with the rest of them. They’re all about advertisers and power plays and kiss-kiss, hate-hate and here you are seeing people and stories. And what’s more is I think you know you don’t fit. I don’t get it.”
He got her. Carter saw her for the person she believed herself to be. There was no underestimating here. No thinly veiled disappointment. She wanted to hug him until he couldn’t breathe, wanted to twirl around her living room with the thrill. How could someone she had just met know her better than everyone else in her life?
Summer bit her lip. “Can I tell you a secret that I’ve never told anyone?”
“Of course. Is it that you’re really into dudes with beards?”
“That, and it’s all part of the plan. I’m going to make senior editor and work there for two more years — three tops — learning everything I can, saving everything I can, and building my contacts. Then I’m going to start my own digital magazine.”
“You sneaky, little —” Carter tickled her feet. “So you’re not into any of this at all?”
“Well, I do love beautiful shoes and clothes. But do I care what anorexic, chain-smoking model is dating what heroin addict musician? Am I disappointed that I’ll never have to drop everything that I’m doing to rewrite a blurb on our ‘editor’s favorite cover-ups’ when an advertiser comes on board? Hell. No.”
“Tell me about this magazine.” Carter stroked her arm in lazy circles. “What’s the angle?”
“Real life. Not four thousand dollar must-have jackets for fall or sex tips from a former porn star —” She pinched him when he pretended to perk up. “It’s going to be about real women living real lives and having real adventures. What do they care about, what do they do, how do they fuel their bodies, what and who do they love? We need role models showing us how to live, not super models.”
Carter traced her nose with his finger. “You are going to disrupt the magazine industry.”
“I intend to.”
It felt so good to tell someone. Even better to tell Carter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Summer was jolted awake by Carter’s body going rigid next to hers. His breathing was coming in short, sharp gasps that punctuated the night’s silence.
“Carter! Wake up.” On her knees she shook him.
When his eyes opened she could tell he still wasn’t with her.
“Wake up,” she begged, blinking back tears. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”
She saw it then. The recognition. The shame that flickered across his face. It hurt her to see his pain.
Carter sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He brought his head to his hands.
Summer wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek on his back. She could hear how his heart thundered in his chest. “Tell me.”
He nodded.
Lights seemed too bright. So she lit candles and poured him a glass of water.
He paced. Naked. His mind still on the dream world he had just left.
Summer waited quietly. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed wearing Carter’s discarded undershirt.
“It was another night and another mission,” he said. His voice a rasp like there was too much pressure in his throat. “My team was a small tactical unit. Our job was to conduct raids on specific targets. There were some weeks during deployment that we were rolling outside the wire every night.”
