His gaze burns into the side of my cheek as I take a sip. “Come to dinner with me next Friday.”
The last word catches me off guard, causing me to almost choke on the mouthful of wine. Friday is the unofficial-official Lawrence Family Dinner Night. Every Friday, the Lawrence siblings descend upon their childhood home for a family dinner. I learnt about the unspoken tradition not long after I moved here, but Teddy and Carter were simply nameless older brothers then.?
“Friday?”
“Yes, Friday. As in the day between Thursday and Saturday.”
If he wasn’t so pretty, I’d want to punch him right now. I turn to face him, feeling the growing frown mar my forehead. “Is Lawrence Family Dinner cancelled?”
Carter looks at me blankly. “What?”?
“What?” I parrot back to him, aware I probably sound as though somewhere a village is missing their idiot. I think he’s caused something to short-circuit in my brain.
“No, I’d like you to accompany me. In fact, I’d love for you to accompany me if you’re free.”
“To your family dinner?”
“Are you hard of hearing all of a sudden?” There’s a teasing tone to his words, yet the insult is all but lost on me. I’m too consumed by rage and bewilderment. Sure, half an hour from now there’s every chance I’ll realise the rage is possibly a bit of an overreaction, but right now, it feels justified.?
“Are you losing your mind? Why would you invite me to your family dinner?” Blood is pumping through my veins at a rapid rate, the sound almost deafening. I stand quickly, feeling like there’s not enough air on the couch for the both of us. Carter’s aftershave hangs between us, a commanding scent threatening my willpower and overloading my senses.
Carter remains seated, looking up at me curiously. If there’s one thing men have, it’s theaudacity. Who does he think he is, looking at me like I’m the crazy one when it’s him who’s inviting his sex friend to family dinner? What thefuckis that about?
“Because I thought it was about time you met the rest of my family, and for them to know therealyou, rather than the nonsense Emmy and Dad have no doubt told them.”
“Carter, are you hearing yourself? Have you even thought this through? What sort of crazy person invites a friend with benefits—who also happens to work for them, need I remind you—to something like that? Why not take one of the many women you’ve dated? There are always pictures splashed around of you and some bombshell woman. I’m sure any of them would jump at the chance to have dinner with a family like yours.”
I’m rambling alot, but there’s little I can do to stop. If I asked a Magic 8 Ball, never in a million years would it have predictedthisresponse, and that’s saying something because those things manage to predict almost anything.?
“Lara,” Carter murmurs as he rises from the couch, standing almost a full head taller than me. Despite myheartstrings being pulled taut at the sound of my name falling from his lips, I can’t meet his gaze. Instead, I choose to keep my eyes trained on the beige-flecked carpet beneath us. His arms move slowly toward my sides, taking hold of my hands. My heart skips a beat at the connection. It doesn’t matter that he’s touched me countless times, the reaction is always the same.?
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I want no part of it,”?I say, still unable to meet his gaze.
Carter gives my hands a small squeeze before he responds. “Nothing is a game to me where you’re concerned.”
The words are unexpected, drenched in a vulnerability I haven’t heard from Carter before. He’s usually so sure of himself—like annoyingly sure—so this unshielded display catches me off guard. But it does nothing in the way of making me look up at him. Call me cowardly, but I can’t bring myself to see the softness written across his features. It’s overwhelming and confusing and too much for my overthinking brain to process right now. It’s also completely at odds with the Carter Lawrence portrayed in the papers, something akin to whiplash.?
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me.”
My gaze snaps up from our interlocked fingers to meet his eyes. Those emerald pools hold so much emotion. There’s a fire somewhere within them, smouldering away until the timing is right. I let out a sigh, trying to find the words to make him understand.
“That’s irrelevant. This isn’t about my feelings; it’s about you trying to make this into something it isn’t, and for the life of me, I can’t understand why.” I try to pull my hands from his, the contact feeling too intimate. My attempt is futile, but Carter relinquishes his grip in response, and my arms fall limply to my sides.?
“Stop deflecting, Lara.” His tone is both authoritative and soft as he holds my gaze. “Tell me you feel nothing for me.”
It’s a command and a plea, and I have no idea how to respond.?
There’s a dull ache in my chest as I stare into the deep green of his eyes, wishing he could understand my inner turmoil. There’s so much I feel for him, but what does that matter when it’s going to end? There are a million reasons for this—whateverthisis—not to work out: I’m from half a world away, he’s got a reputation preceding him, I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, his whole future is laid out ahead of him. And it’s not like they’re small reasons with quick fixes; it’s never that simple.
Some things aren’t meant to work.
Despite this, I can’t help the single tiny butterfly flapping to life deep within me at the thought of this working.
“Carter . . .” I say softly, begging for him to understand. My eyes drift across his body, a body I’ve come to know as well as my own, as I take in every inch of him.
I can practicallyfeelthe scratch of stubble lining his sharp jaw, regularly making his presence known on the skin of my inner thighs. His throat works as my eyes coast over it, and I wonder what he’s thinking right now. My knees weaken when I look at his broad shoulders, memories of my legs thrown over them threatening to erase all rational thought.
Before I can continue the agonising visual tour of his body, Carter cradles my chin, tilting it up with his forefinger and thumb until my gaze is gently pulled to meet his. His hand flattens against my cheek as he looks at me, heat radiating right beneath the surface where his skin meets mine. Instinctively, I raise my own hand up to meet his, my palm fitting perfectly over the back of his hand. I lean into his touch, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
