Darker Water (13 page)

“I had no idea you were such a romantic.”

When he laughed, I felt his breath move my
hair. “I believe in love. I just don’t
do
it.”

“Why not?”

“You know as well as I do that some people
just aren’t good at it. Or maybe they know they’ll never be able to
do it right.”

We were those people, both of us. So why
couldn’t I stop wondering if we would always be those people? It’s
hard to let go of things you’ve believed for your entire life. If
you’re attracted to someone and like who they are, you date. When
you date someone you’re attracted to and like, you have sex. When
you have sex with someone you’re attracted to and like, you fall
for each other. Isn’t that the way everyone did it? Everyone other
than Carson?

And me. Why was I always forgetting about
me?

“I can’t go with you tonight,” I said
quietly.

“Thought you might say that.”

“I know I told you that I would, but—”

“Not a big deal, Lane. I’ll make it without
you. Promise.” There was humor in his voice, so I believed him. I
always believed him. Before he stood, he kissed my forehead.
“Thanks for the birthday present. I loved it.”

“Me too.”

Right before he shut the door, I heard him
say, “Can’t wait to find out what you’re getting me next year.”

It had been days since we’d spoken, which
seemed odd even though we hadn’t known each other that long. Carson
had become part of my everyday. A habit I didn’t want to shake. But
the night of the auction and dealing with Hillary had ended so
strangely, I was a little afraid of what would happen the next time
we were together. Of course,
not
being together didn’t
really solve the problem.

As soon as I found an excuse to call him, I
did. “Hey! Hillary’s doing the Bennett Foundation’s Walk for a Cure
on Sunday.”

“Tell her she can’t come unless she’s stopped
crying.”

“She invited me to go with her. So…um…I was
thinking about it.”

“Great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” There was a slight question in his
tone. “What am I supposed to say now, Lane?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to be there
because you didn’t tell me about it and we haven’t talked in a
couple days.”

“I’ve been busy with last minute Walk
stuff—advertising and media crap.” He paused. “And I didn’t mention
it to you because my mother is going to be there. Whenever I’m
within three miles of my mother, I get grumpy. I’m not fun to be
around when I’m grumpy, and my mother is
never
fun to be
around. But I have nothing against you going.”

“Okay, then I’ll go. Can I say hello if I see
you? I don’t want to make things awkward for you. I know how you
like to divide the personal and professional things.”

“As long as you don’t finally take me up on
my offer in the middle of the crowd, I think it’ll be okay. We’re
friends, right?”

My lip ached from gnawing on it. “Right.”

“Then I’ll see you there. It’ll be loud, so
carry your phone in your hand or you’ll miss my call.” Why did it
make me smile to know he was going to call? “Say thanks to Hillary
for me.” He hung up, leaving me lots of time to wonder what he
wanted to thank Hillary for.

“You’re thinking way too much.” And my mild
obsession with remembering everything Hillary had told me about the
guy she’d slept with four months ago wasn’t helping.

I didn’t need to read between the lines with
Carson. I knew exactly what he wanted and didn’t want because he
told me. So either he was happy we were going to be there to
support the cause or he was happy because of that and because
Hillary had invited me to come along. I didn’t need to worry that I
was missing something or should react in a certain way. As the idea
settled into my brain, I felt an enormous amount of peace. I’d try
to hold onto it whether the sex happened or not.

Who was I kidding? I’d try to hold onto it
even after the sex happened. Because it was the only thing that
would keep me from doing exactly what Hillary had done for most of
Saturday night. Which was the same thing she’d done four months
ago, after one night with Carson.

The Walk was utter chaos and since Hillary
and Eric had given each other the flu and were both sick in bed, I
was alone. The group I was supposed to walk with wasn’t where I
thought we were all supposed to meet. So I started wandering
through the crowd, looking for faces I recognized, not finding a
single one.

When my phone rang, I didn’t hear it, but I
felt the vibration because I’d taken Carson’s advice to hold
it.

“What are you wearing?”

I laughed. “Nothing too exciting,
promise.”

“Let me guess—a red bra and a matching
thong.” His voice was deep and heated, and I had to press the phone
to my head because there was so much noise around me.

“Wrong.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not done. Tight
black—what are they called?—yoga pants? That are a true gift to
mankind because you have a fantastic ass.”

I looked down at my pants—a good guess, or
was he nearby?

“A white and blue shirt that should be
tighter because you have fantastic breasts, too. And I’m guessing
you’re blushing like crazy right now. Am I warm?”

Yes. And so was I.

“Turn to your three o’clock, beautiful.”

I did, seeing him about twenty feet away,
standing near a large group of people who were all wearing bright
yellow team shirts. “They can’t hear what you said, I hope.”

He shook his head.

I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But I was
going to anyway. Turning my back to him, I cocked out one hip. “So
you like my pants?”

He laughed. “If you
have
to wear
pants, then yeah, those are a good choice.”

“My bra and panties are black, not red. But
you were right—they match and it’s a thong. I probably should’ve
worn something more practical though, because it’s a long walk and
this pair rubs my—”

“Okay, joke’s over.” Suddenly his entire tone
changed to irritation. “Hanging up now.”

“Wait! What’s wrong?” I turned towards him.
His jaw was tight and his eyes were searing.

“You’re making me hard.” When he adjusted his
pants, I had to laugh. Served him right. “Get those pants over here
and say hi, Lane. Now.” He tucked his phone into the pocket of his
jeans and waited for me to come over.

I scoured the group for someone fitting the
image I had in my mind of what Carson’s mom would look like. Tall,
thin, pretty, mid-fifties probably.

“If you’re looking for someone better looking
than me, you’re not gonna find anyone. I had all of them thrown out
about a half hour ago.”

“As if.”

“Anna hasn’t woken up this early since she
was in high school, if then, so she’s not here. My brother is out
of town. My dad’s dead. And if it’s my mother you’re so anxious to
see, she’s mingling with the important people—the donors who come
to have their pictures taken.” He shrugged. “Which I’m more than
fine with, considering how much they’re paying for the privilege.
Where’s the team you’re walking with?”

“I’m not sure. Hillary’s sick and I don’t
know where they’re meeting but I’ll probably—”

“Walk with me.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have to.”

“I need someone to carry me for the last few
miles. Think you can handle it?”

“I don’t want to make things awkward between
you and your mom.”

“She never walks. You might have to meet her
at the end, though. I’ll try to shove you out of the way before
that happens. Come on. Amuse me for a few miles before I have to
deal with her.”

He went over to the registration table,
slipping a bill into one of the donation envelopes and exchanging
it for a t-shirt. “Put this on. You’ll be less distracting because
it’s specially designed to hide every curve of your body.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Shut up. We’ve known each other long enough
for you to know how often I do something I don’t want to do. I try
to limit it to one thing per week, and having lunch with my mother
is taking up three or four months’ worth of things I don’t want to
do.”

He introduced me to the people we’d be
walking with—women from the foundation’s office and the families of
some children they were helping. Eventually he gave up because
there were just too many of them. His team made up half the
event.

During the walk itself, he stayed close but
left space in between us, never touching me, joking with me
whenever he wasn’t talking to a parent or someone else. My respect
for him quadrupled because he treated everyone the same way—as if
every single one of them was special.

He was nice, really nice. And he was
attractive, really attractive. But no matter how long I stared at
him or how many times I saw him pick up a child or do something
extraordinarily sweet that normally would’ve had me rolling over
and begging for his attention, the gooey feelings weren’t showing
up. Lots of holy-crap-that’s-sweet but no gooey-ness.

Hopefully, that meant my brain had completely
accepted that love wasn’t an option, especially with Carson, so it
had chucked out all the parts that sent those deluded messages. Oh
my god, I might be cured. Of course, it didn’t cure me of being
terrified to try. Because I could also be completely wrong and the
second we crossed the line, I could start feeling more than just
the physical, and everything would be over. Then the only time I
would see him would be if he happened to be at the café at the same
time I was.

He bumped into me and slowly pushed me to the
side of the mass of people walking. He kept looking straight ahead
but his hand curled around my hipbone, pulled me to a stop, and
then was gone. Four fingers on a few inches of my body brought back
every hormone that had been released when I gave him his birthday
present.

“Go ahead,” he called to the group. “I need
to tie my shoelace.”

I looked down at his two neatly tied
laces.

“You gonna tattle on me?” he whispered,
bending down and pretending to retie them. He stayed there until
the main mob of walkers had passed us. “Follow me.” Without another
word, he turned into the alcove of a nightclub that wouldn’t be
open for hours. Evidently I was moving too slowly for his liking
because he grabbed my hand and yanked me into a corner not visible
from the sidewalk.

“Hi.” He was really close and his gaze was on
my lips. All of my smart decision-making skills slipped away.

“Hi.”

“This whole just-being-friends thing isn’t
working for me anymore.”

I flinched. “Cars—”

“I want to mess around, get you so hot you
can’t stop yourself from ripping my clothes off, and then fuck you
for the next twenty-four hours straight.”

I was having some trouble breathing. “How is
that different from what you wanted yesterday?”

“It’s not. But I’m less patient today. Not
helped by the fact I’ve been staring at your ass so hard, I think
I’ve developed x-ray vision because I swear I can see a black thong
through the black fabric of your pants. So what’s it gonna be,
Lane? I’m still not going to give up if you say no, because
sleeping with you is a cause I truly believe in. But I need a
status report.”

I wasn’t sure, because I tried not to think
about it. I failed miserably, but I tried. Crap, I wasn’t trying—I
was obsessed. Yes’s and no’s kept spinning in my mind and the wheel
didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. Because the
whole thing was so confusing, awkward, and overwhelming.

What if I went right back to a time I didn’t
want to remember? To when I’d been a person I never wanted to be
again? I didn’t want to go back. If Carson was overestimating my
ability to separate love and sex
or
if he was
underestimating his appeal, I was screwed. Literally and
figuratively.

Before I could decide what to say, someone
called his name.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “We have another mile or
so to go. I don’t want to pressure you…more than I usually do. But
I want you really fucking badly, and I need to know what’s going on
in that beautiful head of yours. Think you can you figure it out by
the time we reach the finish line?”

“I’ll try.”

He nodded. “Try not to walk in front of me,
too. A hard-on at a work event qualifies as an awkward blend of my
personal and professional lives.”

Carson and I walked side by side the rest of
the way, but we barely spoke, each left to our own thoughts. I was
doing the should-I-shouldn’t-I thing while he was probably thinking
of something completely different. Although, I was thinking about
sex and
he
was a man, so actually, we were probably thinking
about exactly the same thing.

We could hear the blare of a live band—a sign
that the end was near. He expected me to have an answer and I
couldn’t come up with one. Only two choices, and I couldn’t pick
one.

You are a sad, sad excuse for a woman,
Laney.

“Oh shit.” He made a quick turn towards a
water station and handed me a bottle. “Time to make a choice,
Lane.”

I swallowed. “Right now? That’s not fair. You
said I had until the end of the walk, and there’s at least another
forty feet to go.”

“You can either stay here for a few minutes
to avoid an awkward conversation with my mother, or you can act as
a human shield for me. If you opt for the human shield, I guarantee
she’ll assume we’re dating. And since I’ve never introduced her to
a girl and I haven’t introduced her to a friend since I was
fourteen, I have no idea what she’ll say to you.”

“Why don’t you just tell her you’re gay so
she won’t think you’re hiding women from her?”

“Ideas like that are exactly why I need to
keep you around. It’s perfect. I’m going to come out of the closet
during lunch. I may need some moral support. Interested?”