A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) (36 page)

Never in my wildest dreams did I think a girl would come along that would make me feel unworthy in the bedroom. But she does. There’s no one like her and if she ever leaves me- which I’m going to work my ass off every day to make sure never happens- I know for a fact I’ll never find anyone like her. She’s my perfect partner and I’m not whole without her.

And when I’m literally inside of her is when I fell most complete.

Which I am now.

Which means I’m in a completely different atmosphere.

And I can’t think.

I can only feel.

And all I can feel is us. All I can feel is her connected to me. All I can see is her beautiful eyes and her satisfied mouth. All I see is Presley.

I come and it almost kills me. My release is long and intense and there are about a hundred different layers of emotion involved in it now. But I can still see her. I can still feel her. And she’s all that matters. And, thank god, she’s just as lost in her euphoria as I am.

I stare at her eyes as they fight to stay connected to mine. I feel her fingers as they dig into my skin, keeping her here with me. Everything’s better with her in sight.

Euphoria.

It’s all I can think.

Her. Me. Us…. Euphoria.

“I love you, Nash Carter,” she whispers as I feel the last ripples of her orgasm leave her body.

“Uh... god… umm… gah… yeah…Presley,” I mumble stupidly. Which is drunk-off-Presley speak for
I love you too
.

It’s the last day of second semester and I can’t help but think back to the first day of it. My Lord how things have changed. Most of it good.

I’m in love with Nash. Which still sounds strange when I think it.
I’m in love with Nash Carter.
But I totally am. And he’s totally in love with me. He’s my boyfriend and… I can’t imagine life without him.
Weird.
So weird. But so true. 

Jolee is pretty much out of my life since I’m still staying with the Carters and ever since winter formal, everyone’s on the Nashley train (yes, we have a couple name) and without anyone to back her up she’s no longer trying to make my life hell.

My relationships with Tatum and Summer are better than ever.

Angel and I still haven’t resolved our issues and he no longer sits with us at lunch but Summer, the peace maker that she is, is working behind the scenes to fix that even though she won’t admit it’s the reason why the two of them have been spending so much time together. 

Even the divorce was good… I think. It brought my mom and I closer, gave both of us some closure as far as things with my dad go, and brought my mom closer to Nick. I still can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. So far they’re just friends who like to flirt and I don’t know if I would mind if they took the next step or not.

I laugh to myself.

“What?” Nash asks from his stool beside me.

I stare at him, shaking my head. “Just trying to figure out if having sex with my stepbrother would be exciting or gross,” I whisper.

He rolls his eyes, a trait he’s picked up from me. “Exciting. What the hell’s wrong with you, woman? Sex with us will always be exciting,” he says loud enough for everyone in class to hear.

I slap his chest. “Can you use your inside voice? Jesus.”

“Please. Today’s the presentation on Presley’s personal refuge. What the hell do you think I took pictures of?”

My eyes pop out at him and my mouth hangs open. “Nash…” I warn.

“What? My bed with my naked body in it is your refuge now, right?”

“Oh my god,” I mutter, horrified.

He laughs and wraps me up in his arms. “Relax, Kitty. You’re the only one who gets to see me naked.”

On cue, Mr. Conroy says, “Nash and Presley, you’re up.”

I exhale a long breath and grab my folder with my photos in it. “You want to go first?” I ask Nash.

“Nope. Best for last,” he tells me with a wink. “You’re up.”

I don’t even fight with him. He’s probably right. I didn’t even worry about the technical side of my photos this week, I thought the subject matter alone was pretty perfect. But Mr. Conroy and Harley probably won’t agree. And Nash is getting pretty good at the photography thing.

I hang up my four photos because I now have so many refuges I can’t fit them into three photos. I look at them and smile before turning to my teacher.

“Okay,” Mr. Conroy says like he does at the beginning of all the critiques. “What can you tell us about your photos, Presley?”

“These are my places of refuge. On the first day of class when you gave us the syllabus, that word caused me all kinds of anxiety. I used to live in California and it was the only home I knew. There, I had a lot of refuges – my car, my room, the painting studio at school, my favorite table at my favorite coffee shop, the river in the woods behind my old house... But here, in Carver, I couldn’t find a place where I felt safe and could decompress. It bothered me. A lot.”

I turn and look at my photos now. “This is Nate, Nash’s older brother. When I’m angry or in a bad mood I seek him out because he’s fun to argue with and when we’re done arguing and all of my frustrations have been unleased, he puts me in my place and tells me what he
thinks
I need to do to fix my problems, and he’s usually right…and a pretty great older brother type like that.”

I smile at the picture of Nate before moving on. “This is Nick, Nash’s dad. He’s where I go when I’m feeling scared or weak. He gives the best hugs and talks to me until I know that everything will be okay. He’s not bossy like Nate, but he’s a really good listener and tends to make me feel safe.”

I can feel Nash staring at me but I’m already getting emotional so I know I can’t look at him. I move on with my presentation. “This is my mom. The friends I have are awesome, but she’s the best. And she’s my rock. When I just need to chill out and be myself, or if I want to have fun and forget about all things serious for a while, she’s where I go.” There’s so much more I could say about my mom; how she’s the strongest person I know, the one I admire most, the person who knows everything about me and loves me unconditionally… but my emotions are welling up inside of me and I still have to get through my last photo, so I keep it brief.

“And this is Nash,” I take a breath and try to compose myself. “All of the reasons why our families are my personal refuges… I can go to him for all of those reasons too. He sets me straight when I’ve lost my way, he lets me run my mouth and doesn’t mind arguing with me if that’s what I need. He’s the best listener I know and makes me realize things about myself and life in general that I couldn’t have ever seen without him. He holds me when I feel like I might break. He’s the place I can go when I need to be myself and don’t need anyone judging me. He’s the person I have the most fun with. So yeah, all of that…”

I pause to take a much needed breather before continuing. “He gives me a kind of constant support that I’ve never known. He sees things in me that I don’t see and keeps showing them to me until I can see too. He puts my happiness before his own, always. He’s there whenever I need him and even when I don’t think I need anyone… he knows that I do, and he’s there for me. In his arms is the place where I feel the happiest and the most secure. It’s where I feel completely loved. Nash is my refuge.”

I look at him now because I can feel his eyes burning into mine and he’s holding my hand. “Before I came to Carver I didn’t realize that your safe
place
didn’t have to be a place at all but could be a person. Or a lot of people.”

Nash’s eyes are shining with what I think are probably unshed tears. The smile he’s giving me is painful. “You’re gonna hate my photos,” he tells me.

“Very good, Presley,” Mr. Conroy says, reminding me that Nash and I are in a classroom with other people. “Go ahead and present, Nash.”

He lets go of my hand and clears his throat. “Can I just say that I should have gone first. Presley’s way deeper than I am and I thought I did a damn good job of capturing her personal refuges, but this is just gonna seem stupid now.”

“Thank you for the disclaimer,” Mr. Conroy says sounding irritated. “Get your photos clipped to the board.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, turning from me and clipping his photos up.

I laugh. Not because it’s funny but because he does know me and his photos are sweet. And so Nash.

“Okay,” he says, looking at his photos. “This couch is where we were sitting the first time Presley really talked to me. I was giving her advice on dating this total douche bag which irritated the hell out of me but I did it anyways. And it was fine because during that conversation she looked at me, for the first time, with something besides hate or irritation. I think that night, on that couch, was the first night of our friendship. Since that night she’s had a lot of conversations there, with me, and with the other people that are her refuges. I think it’s one of the places where she feels safe.”

I’m crying now and I don’t even care. How could anyone expect me to hold it together right now?

“It’s also where she kissed me for the first time and you know…that’s another one of her refuges – my mouth.”

“Oh my god, Nash,” I mutter, going from sappy to pissed off in one second flat.

He smirks at me before moving on to his next photo.

“This trail is where she let her guard down with me for the first time. Nothing huge happened there but I think it’s where we were when things really started to change between us. I knew there was something about her that I couldn’t stay away from before then, but that day, on that trail, is when I realized how much I cared about her and that I needed her in my life. I think it was the day she started to realize it too.”

He looks at me tentatively and I smile at him. He’s right. That was another life changing day in my world. Although I don’t know if I realized it then. It was the day he became my safe place.

“And, we still go there at least once a week when we need a quick break from school and you know… we take refuge in each other.”

“I swear to god, I’m gonna kill you, Nash Carter,” I mutter over the snickering in the room.

He laughs before moving on.

“The first time I brought Presley to one of my races she told me that it was the best night she’d had since coming to Carver. That she felt like she wasn’t even in Georgia at all. This is her, cheering her ass off, as she watches my dad race. Since then, in my garage watching me work on my car, or there with our family friends, or on the road watching her family race, have all become her happy places.”

When he looks at me this time I don’t want him to see the happiness on my face because I can just imagine what’s coming next. We’ve made out countless times in his car, in the pole barn, on the street after a race.
Oh, god.

He’s looking at me when he says, “That truck in the background is where we were when she told me that it was the best night she’d had in Georgia. It’s also the first night I really got to hold her and be physically close to her and like she said – in my arms is her favorite refuge.”

I let out a breath of relief and allow myself to smile at the memory. I think it was probably the first night I started falling in love with Nash. And, yes, the best part of the night was the ride to and from the race when I got to be in his arms.

He moves on to his last photo since he, apparently, couldn’t edit my refuges down to three places either. This one terrifies me because he wasn’t completely bullshitting me before – it’s a picture of his bedroom… of his bed.

“Don’t worry, Presley. It’s not what you think,” he says loud enough for the entire class to hear. “I mean, it’s that too, but it’s not why I took the photo.”

“Try to stay focused, Mr. Carter,” Mr. Conroy says sternly.

“Thank you,” I bark at him. It’s about time he started acting like a responsible teacher.

“So… this is my room.” He pauses and I hear some of the girls giggle. Which, they can shut the hell up because they will never see the real thing. “And, for now at least, it’s Presley’s room too. Those are her books on the bedside table. My desk is all cluttered with her music and stereo because apparently some people still listen to music on CD’s. Those are my clothes all over the floor because she actually puts hers away in the dresser and closet. This is where she goes when she wants to be alone. It’s where she listens to her music and reads her books. It’s where she rests. It’s where she sleeps. Not to be arrogant, but I think it’s her favorite refuge of all.”

Innuendo aside, that was pretty damn sweet and I can’t help but reach out for his hand, restraining myself from climbing all over him and telling him how much I love him.

But then he opens his mouth. “When you’re there, it’s my favorite refuge too.”

Fuck it.
I latch onto him and kiss him and tell him, and our entire class, how much I love him because
I can
.

He’s still Nash Carter - hottest guy at our school, too confident for his own good, cocky as all hell, number one panty dropper in Carver. But  I can kiss the hell out of him and tell him I love him without any fear because he’s also Nash Carter- totally in love, lives to make one girl happy, best friend anyone’s ever had.

My
place where I know, without a doubt, that I will always be safe. The person that will watch out for me. The body that will shelter me from everything bad. The only place in this world where I can really, truly be myself.

THE END