They shared a moment ofoh-it’s-youeye contact before Carter turned to shut the door.
“I forgot you live here,” Aidan said. “How ‘bout doing your laundry some of the damn time.” He toed at an overflowing basket of clothes behind the recliner. “Or cutting a damn rent check for once.”
When Carter turned back, he was wearing that perma-scowl he had on these days. “Something you wanna say to me?”
“I just said it. Get the hell over yourself, you damn girl. I apologized for what happened to Jazz.To her. I don’t owe you shit.”
Carter folded his arms, bowed up his spine, all big-man-ready-for-a-throwdown.
Aidan rolled his eyes. “Jesus. What, are you in love with her or something?”
No answer, just a silent grinding of the guy’s jaw.
Aidan released a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Shit.” He dropped down into the recliner, tense all over and tired of keeping his feet. “You are, aren’t you? Bro, are you that easy? A few times bumping uglies and you’re ready to fight people over her?”
“You hurt–” Carter started.
Aidan cut him off. “I can promise you, I’m not the first one to hurt Jasmine, I’m just the first one to do it on accident.” He gave him a meaningful look and watched some of the angry color drain from the boy’s face. That’s what he was, after all: a boy. It was easy to forget that he was the same age as Ava, because Ava had always been fifty-years-old at heart and currently played the role of wife and mother and smarty-pants author. But Carter was still so young on the inside, and it was showing now.
Aidan sighed and softened his tone. “I really didn’t mean to hurt Jazz. You’ve gotta believe me. I’ve been…a little out of my head lately.”
Carter sank down slowly on their sofa.
“It was wrong what I did. No excuses, and Ididapologize to her. I’m sorry if it still bothers her. Does it?”
Looking reluctant, like he was holding onto this stubborn grudge, Carter finally nodded. “Yeah. At the party, I walked up on Candyman talking to her, and she was…she’s not right.”
“Lemme guess. Jockstrap to the rescue?”
“Dude…”
Aidan held up his hands.I’ll back off. “Fair warning, though. Jazz ain’t exactly Cinderella waiting on her prince. Don’t get your hopes up too high, kid. The fall back down always hurts harder than you think it will.”
Carter’s brows lifted. “Speaking from experience?”
He thought of Sam and his gut clenched; his throat tightened.Jesus, Sam…“Probably.”
~*~
Sam always graded papers with a cup of tea at the kitchen table. Not tonight. She didn’t have the heart for routine. She was achy all over, physically pained every time she remembered asking Aidan to leave – and that memory came once every two seconds. So she folded herself beneath a fleece blanket on her bed with a glass of wine to read through the latest batch of student journal entries.
A soft knock sounded at her door. “Come in,” she said, thinking it was Mom.
It was Erin. The girl’s face was scrubbed clean of makeup, beautiful and youthful in a way she hadn’t been in so long. Her expression was unexpected, almost careful, as she peeked around the door.
“Sam?”
“Hi.” Sam set the papers down in her lap. “What’s up?”
“You weren’t downstairs when I got home.”
It was a surprise to know that Erin had noticed or cared. “Yeah, um…I’m up here instead.”
Erin eased the door open wider and came in, sat down cross-legged on the floor beside the bed. Clearly, the disruption in routine had shaken her.
With a jolt, Sam realized she was the stern parental figure in the house. And like with any child, a parent out of whack threw the wholehouseholdout of whack.
Sam sat up straighter and set her wine aside on the nightstand. “What’s wrong?”
