He glanced back over his shoulder with an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”
“Not like I didn’t expect it.”
But the mood had shifted, she could tell. Had slid into a tense space that had the potential to toss them one way or the other. All it would take was telling a dirty joke – or pulling her hand from his grasp.
She did neither. Followed him into a dorm room that, after he’d closed the door softly behind them, finally letting go of her hand, she realized was his. She’d seen the dorms before, unremarkable, but private, each with their own bathroom, and small, covered windows. Each with the same ugly orange carpet, but always with scrubbed surfaces and clean linen. Ghost didn’t tolerate slovenliness.
This room had signs of a longer-term habitation. A stack of folded t-shirts on top of the dresser. Personal effects on the nightstand: an empty glass, an alarm clock, a magazine. Several pair of sneakers sat lined up against the wall by the door, and a gym bag hung off the closet doorknob.
“Do you live here fulltime?” she asked, turning to him.
He’d been turning, too, to face her, and he froze a moment. She realized too late that she’d said something that struck a nerve, and rushed to say, “No, it’s great. It is. Why wouldn’t you live here?”
His gaze landed somewhere to the left of her, and he nodded, face too blank. “Yeah. I know.”
Shit, things had tipped, and she hadn’t even meant them to. This felt like letting go, rather than stepping closer. “Plenty of the guys live here,” she said.
“Some. Not plenty.”
“The single ones. All the ones who have their own places are married.”
He let out a breath, and she thought some of the tension across his shoulders eased.
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad about it.”
“I know.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, heedless of the way it stuck up afterward. “I know, it’s just – kinda answered my own question.” A quick, grim smile.
She stepped closer. “What question?”
“Just that…” He blew out a breath. “Things are good. They’re good, right?”
“Yes.”
“They feel good. And I like what we’re doing. And this – bringing you here with me tonight feels like another step. And I want it. It’s a good step,” he added in a rush. “I want – a lot of things. Things I’d given up on, really. And maybe that’s why – look, I keep thinking that you’re going to change your mind, I guess.” He scrubbed at his hair some more, expression going miserable. “And I feel stupid saying it, ‘cause maybe that’ll make you realize youshouldchange your mind. But I wouldn’t blame you.”
She closed the last distance between them, and rested her fingertips lightly against his stomach, pushing past the light barrier of his shirt so she could feel the warmth of skin and muscle through the fabric. “What are you saying?” she asked, frowning.
He flapped his arms, looking helpless. “You’ve got all your shit together. A job, your own place. You had a real relationship in Chicago. You’re an adult. And I’m…I live in a dorm. And I’ve never had a serious girlfriend, and, yeah, the sex is hot, but what if you wake up one morning and realize that’s not enough? That the risk of being around the club isn’t the life you want, and–”
She reached with her other hand and shushed him with a finger against his lips.Life, he’d said. It sent a terrifying thrill through her. She’d thought she would live her life with Jason, but that had fallen apart, because he’d only ever thought in increments of months, and now here Carter was talking aboutlife, and he was so earnest, but it was so soon, and it made it a little hard to breathe.
“Hey,” she said, softly, trying to keep the sudden tremor of nerves from her voice. “The club doesn’t scare me, remember? I’m not going anywhere. We have lots of time to figure things out.”
He swallowed, and sucked in a breath against her finger. When he spoke, she felt his lips tremble. “But I want…things,” he said, even more softly.
She let her hand drop to his chest, over the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat. “What sorts of things?”
He hesitated, gaze tracking back and forth across her face. He said, “I brought you here tonight as – my old lady.” The phrase wasn’t unexpected, but it still landed like a jolt of electricity; she could see that it did for him, too. “I always wanted, even when I told myself I didn’t, and that I wasn’t…but that’s why I brought you tonight.”
“I know that.” But shivers crawled across her skin. She didn’t understand why it was like this with him; why every simple exchange had the potential to become so fraught. The way they sparked like this, so wholly unexpected.
She watched his gaze fix on her mouth, watched his pupils expand. “I don’t want it to be too much for you.”
“It’s not,” she said, “none of it,” and meant the words to encompass a whole bevy of things. Some sweet, some decidedly not.
“I don’t want you to get scared,” he said, voice dropping. His hands landed on her waist, warm and grounding – and thrilling. She remembered the last time they’d been on her, skin to skin, and wanted that again, suddenly, terribly. Her pulse settled hot and erratic between her legs.
“You don’t scare me,” she promised, and he kissed her.
