Page 27 of Collision
“I’ll be entering medical records at the hospital. It comes with full benefits, Samuel. I’ll finally be able to go to the doctor any time I want!”
My heart aches. “That’s amazing, Mom. I’m so proud of you.”
She continues to tell me about the job and how nice all the people are in the office. “There’s a break room with free coffee and everything,” she gushes.
“You’re a dork. It sounds like it’s going to be a great fit for you.”
Her voice turns soft. “I’m finally making the money I always hoped to one day.” She pauses, and I prepare for the other shoe to drop. “Would you maybe be able to come to the city in a few weeks and help me move to a new place? I don’t want to get too ahead of myself, but I think I can afford a nicer apartment once I save up a little.”
My shoulders release the lingering tension. I hate that I expected her to talk about a new boyfriend. Not about the success of her new job. “I’d be happy to help you move apartments. Send me some links when you find the one you like. And if you need a little help with the deposit to get you out of your current place faster, all you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t deserve you, baby. I truly got so lucky when you came into my life.”
“You deserve every happiness you can find, Mom. I’m so happy for you.”
“I gotta get back to work. My lunch break is about over. Ha! I’m on a lunch break!”
I laugh at her excitement.
“I love you, Samuel.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
I end the call with a smile on my face. For years, I’ve been hoping Mom would be able to get herself out of the vicious cycle of finding a shitty job, dating a shittier man who usually took advantage of her, and ending up flat on her face without a penny to her name. I’m not sure how she managed to get this job, but I’m proud of her for doing it on her own.
Maybe now that Mom seems to be settling down, I can finally focus on settling down myself. An image of Carter holding a squishy baby while he looks at me with love in his eyes pops into my head.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I murmur out loud. We’ve hung out a sum total of three times. I may like him more than I’ve ever liked anyone at this stage, but that does not mean he is the man I’ll be with forever. Even if the little I know about him ticks all the boxes on my perfect guy list.
Ugh. Not helping.
I focus my attention back on my TV. Supernatural comes up as a show I might like, and I select it immediately. This show never gets old, and with hundreds of episodes, it’ll pass the time well enough.
With a press of the button, the doorbell rings, telling Carter I’m here. I squeeze the neck of the wine bottle in my hand to release some of the nervous excitement buzzing through my body. It’s as if I haven’t seen him in a week instead of days.
The door opens, and there he stands, in a pair of teal shorts that are short enough to be teasing and a light grey, short-sleeved Henley to round out the sexy frat boy look he has going. The dish towel hanging on his shoulder softens the look a little and makes me smile.
“Hey, come on in. I’m just putting the final touches on dinner.” Carter steps away from the door to let me in. We walk directly into his living room, and I can see his kitchen from the doorway. Off to the left is a wide hallway that I’m guessing leads to the bedrooms and bathroom.
“It smells fantastic in here,” I say, checking out Carter’s ass as he walks back to the kitchen. Those shorts should be illegal. I would like to do dirty, dirty things to him. Fuck me.
“You going to come in or continue to stare at my ass?”
My head whips up to find him smirking at me. “I’d like to come in something,” I grumble, walking to the breakfast bar to set the wine bottle down.
“That can be arranged.” Carter winks at me, and I grin.
“Duly noted. What are you making?”
“Pizza. It’s just about done. There’s a corkscrew in that drawer there if you want to open your wine.” He points to a drawer near his fridge and then turns back to the stove. “I hope pepperoni is okay?”
“It’s great. You made pizza? Like the dough and everything?”
“Yep. It’s one of my favorites.” Carter’s movements are full of confidence, as if he’s done this a thousand times. He doesn’t seem to be working off a recipe. There’s no paper on the counter, and his phone isn’t anywhere to be seen either. I’m a little in awe of him right now.
“I’m impressed. Where did you learn to do all of this? You look like a pro.”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “When I was in college, I lived by myself off campus. After a few months of takeout and ramen, I realized that my energy and mood were directly correlated to what I was eating. I asked my mom to teach me some of the basics, and then after I started doing it on my own, I found I enjoyed it. It became a stress reliever after a difficult test or whatever, and I began to expand my knowledge. YouTube came in handy often. Still does, if I’m honest.” He laughs.
