“Did you want him to, though?”
She frowned.
“Leah, do youlikehim?”
“I just broke up with Jason.”
“Months ago. Are you missing him?”
“I’m…it’s complicated.” By the end, by the time Jason rolled out the dreadedself-explorationexcuse, they’d already drifted apart. The heat and the spark had gone, and even companionship had frayed into something tattered and insubstantial. Sometimes, she dreamed they were still together. Sometimes, she turned away from the fridge, his name on her tongue, ready to ask him what they should have for dinner, only to be confronted with her new apartment: outdated and empty. The hollow ache in the pit of her stomach then wasn’t grief or loss. But she’d grown used to be part of a pair, and now it was just her again. It could get lonely, sometimes.
Marie smiled with sympathy. “I know, baby. You two were together for a long time. It makes sense that it’s hard to move on.”
“It isn’thard,” she protested. “But…I guess I’ve not even been thinking about that. I just wanted to come home, and get back on my feet, and focus on work. On catching up with you guys, and Ava. Dating wasn’t even on my radar.”
“It probably wasn’t on Carter’s, either.”
“Do you think he meant it? That he actually wants to go out with me, and this isn’t some kind of – I don’t know – experiment?”
“I don’t know, sweetie, not for sure. But I’ve watched you two sit in here together. The way he looks at you: that’s not fake. But I can’t say if it’s the sort of thing that’ll last.”
“Gee, thanks,” she muttered, but smiled to soften it.
“You need to talk to him. Start with ‘I’m sorry,’ and then see where it goes.”
Leah nodded, ad slumped back in her chair. “What if I did date him? You don’t have a problem with me dating a Lean Dog?”
“Well, you’re a grown woman, I can’t tell you what to do.”
“When has that ever stopped a Southern mama from trying anyway,” Leah teased.
Marie chuckled, and then grew serious again. “I haven’t ever looked at them as Lean Dogs. They’re people, some wilder than others, who just happen to all wear the same cut. Carter’s a sweet boy. I’ve always liked him.”
“What about Dad?”
“Well. We’ll have to work on Dad.”
Leah smiled. Whatever happened, it was good to know she had her mom’s support.
Even if Carter never spoke to her again.
Twenty-Five
There was an uncertain moment, after Carter straddled his bike and snapped on his helmet, when he considered going to Jazz’s place. She would pet his hair, and call him baby boy. Would get out some wine, or beer, and tequila, and then undo her shirt, and he could pretend he hadn’t just been shot down spectacularly in the middle of a crowded coffeeshop.
But that wouldn’t be fair to Jazz. He couldn’t go crawling back to her, now, after he’d gone to such pains to redraw the parameters of their relationship.
He headed to the clubhouse, because he had nowhere else to go, and he told himself that there were probably girls there…but the idea didn’t interest him at all. The urge to prove his manhood after rejection struck him as a hollow and stupid one at the moment. He felt shriveled, and cold, and sex was the last thing he wanted.
So was company, but when he walked in the clubhouse, he found Boomer, Deacon, and Evan at one of the tables in the common room, drinking beer and playing cards.
Ugh, was his first thought. He shouldered his backpack higher and planned to walk right past them.
But Boomer called out, “Hey, Carter.”
He almost kept going. Paused, and turned.
Boomer, for all his muscled bulk, could look downright boyish at times, his face too-expressive and sweet when he was uncertain. He looked like that now, biting his lip in obvious apprehension, fidgeting with the cards in his hands.
