Carson sends me a knowing wink. Nodding my head toward the TV, I ask, “What game were you playing?”
“COD.”
When I stare back at him blankly, he says, “Call of Duty.”
“Haven’t heard of that one,” I tell him.
“Are you telling me Brody Meyer never played COD growing up?”
“We weren’t too big into video games as kids. Our mama raised us on her own after my daddy passed when I was twelve. The only video games I’ve ever played areThe SimsandMadden, but that wasn’t really until Brody went to college, and I visited him there.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad. How far apart are you in age from Brody?”
“He’s three years older than me.”
“Oh, I bet he loved having his jailbait sister come visit him at college.”
I smack Carson’s chest at that. “You’re one to talk. I could probably go to jail just from living with you. I’m old enough to have been your babysitter.”
“Age is just a number, Austin. You’re barely older than me. Though, if you would’ve been my babysitter growing up, I would’ve begged my parents to go on date nights. Think of all the late nights we could’ve shared staying up late making our pretend family onThe Sims. Whenever I used to play, I’d max out the number of kids you could have per family. My fake wife and I were ‘woo-hooing’ like rabbits.”
Shaking my head at him, I try and fail to hold back my laughter. “You’re something else, Golden Boy. I think your concussion is making you talk crazy.”
Carson just shrugs in response as he reaches for a blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over my legs and his lap, leaving my bare feet exposed. Before I can ask him to cover them up, he begins massaging the arch of my left foot, and the moan I let out has us both freezing.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
I clear my throat before I respond. “It’s perfect. I’m sorry, it’s just I couldn’t tell you the last time I got a foot rub. It feels really good.”
That makes a smile spread across Carson’s face. “How about this—I’ll give you a foot rub each time we sit down to watchBridgertontogether.”
“But there’s only eight episodes in season two,” I pout.
Carson throws his head back, laughing at me. “Doesn’t season three come out next month?”
I roll my eyes at that. “Yes, but it’s in two parts. So there’s only a few episodes coming out in May, and then we have to wait like a whole month before part two comes out.”
“Greedy girl,” he rasps.
Holy. Hell. That sounded far too attractive coming from his lips.
“Why are they trying to do us dirty like that? Fine, I’ll amend my proposal to be a foot rub for each time we sit down to watch a movie or a show together.”
“Deal,” I practically squeak out as I struggle to press play on the remote.
The first scene of season two plays, and I can’t help the overwhelming sense of comfort and security that floods me. I’m sitting on the comfiest couch with a man who has quickly become a person I lean on, and he’s rubbing my feet as he goes on about how badass Eloise Bridgerton is.
Carson catches me smiling to myself and returns it with one of his own dazzling smiles before squeezing my foot three times.
13
April
Swiping right, I accept an incoming FaceTime call from Griff. Assuming he couldn’t wait to propose and they’re calling to tell me the good news, I start to say congratulations but stop when I see the stressed-out look on his face. “Oh, shit. Did she say no?” I cover my mouth with my fist to hold back my laughter.
“What? No. Why would you ask that? Do you think she’s going to say no?” The panic laced in his voice would be hilarious if he didn’t look like he was on the verge of a breakdown.
I lower my fist and take a deep breath to get my shit together. “No way, G. Mack has wanted to marry you since the day you moved in next door. If you haven’t asked yet, then why the hell are you calling? You better not tell me you got cold feet.”
