Declaration (20 page)

“Yes!” she panted, her husky voice escalating with each frantic roll of her hips. “Yes…yes…God, yes.” She came on a broken wail. I lifted her waist and bounced her up and down to give her every last ounce, letting myself come on a long, torturous groan. She convulsed, jerking and sliding back and forth, before slumping over and landing on my chest, her sweaty tits sticking to me as she inhaled against my neck. “You make me fly,” she panted, her breathing harsh beneath my ear. “I’m free with you.” Pushing herself off of me, she fell onto her back, her panting still rough but voice suddenly meek. “Do you ever feel that way with me?”

I worked to steady my own breathing, lying there and staring up at the ceiling. Now was the time. I had to tell her everything. How I felt about Kate, what I was doing in Florida, and how what I felt for her was far from casual. I didn’t want to freak her out, but she had to know. My chest was exploding with the need to let it all out. “I’m alive when I’m with you,” I said. “It’s like all the windows are open. I don’t want casual with you, Whitney. I want everything. No space between us. No secrets.”

“You…you do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Wh—what does that mean?”

“I want you. I don’t care about your baggage; I don’t care about any of that shit, as long as I get to have every part of you.” I forced out a breath and rolled onto my side to face her. “But there are some things I want you to know about me first. Things I should’ve said to you right away. I shouldn’t have held back. I wanted you to get to know me, but I kept some things at a distance. I don’t want to do that, going forward. We’ve both been burned one way or another, right? We need transparency.”

“Okay…”

“I heard you talking to Ruben tonight.”

“Oh.”

“You need to know that I did love Kate. I loved her when I moved onto the island.”

A blanket of quiet settled over us. I looked down and played with the edge of the sheet.

“And now?” she asked, as if the answer would deliver her a fatal blow.

“I…I’m not…I’m not sure.” I cut her a glance, knowing exactly what I would find.

Disappointment.

“I don’t think so, but it’s...” There was that damn word again. “…Complicated.”

“Why is it complicated? She didn’t return the feelings, right? She’s marrying someone else.”

“Yeah, it was never mutual. I’ve been trying to figure it out, I guess I’m just still coming to terms with it all. I knew she was never mine. She never wanted me in that way and we were never together, I swear.”

“You never…”

“No. Never. I kissed her once. That was it.”

“What happened?”

“She turned me down. I was stupid. She’d just broken up with Ryan…it was a huge mistake.” I studied her carefully, watched as she kept her gaze trained on the ceiling. “I’m falling for you, Whitney. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.” Going quiet for a moment, I asked myself if what I was about to say next was true before I went ahead and said it.

It was.

“Not even Kate. You need to know that. But I owe it to you to be honest about the fact that I’m still conflicted…about whatever’s going on in my head. I came to Florida to sort some things out, to start over. There was so much going on with me back home—a lot more than just my drama with Kate. I’d lost my way, didn’t know who I was or what the hell I was supposed to do with my life. Everything just lost its luster, went dull. I was stranded. Have you ever felt like everyone is moving forward but you? Like life is just flying by and you’re standing still, watching it sail past you? You feel…powerless. Completely helpless. If I didn’t change something, right then and there, I’d end up buried. It became so clear to me then. That’s when I knew I had to leave Seattle.”

Whitney still hadn’t looked at me. “Do you think you made the right choice?”

“I know I did,” I answered, not missing a beat. “You’re living proof of that. I’d never take back what I have with you now. My feelings about her don’t matter anymore. I have no future whatsoever with her. She’s engaged. I have a new life here, and I’m loving it. I love being with you.”

“But it does matter,” she said softly, keeping her eyes glued to the ceiling fan. “You can’t move forward with someone else if you don’t have yourself to give. If…if your heart belongs to someone else.”

“Whitney…”

“I think Ruben’s right, Carter. I think I’m in love with you.” She swallowed hard. “No. I know that I am. How’s that for transparency?” She laughed dryly, moving to get up. “I better get going.”

“What? No. Wait.” I moved with her, my adrenaline pumping hard at her confession. Everything went blurry, my ears fuzzy with heavy pounding. My palms began to sweat and my mouth went dry.

I had to stop her.

“It’s fine,” she said, slipping into her black party dress. She zipped it halfway and reached for her purse. “It’s late and I’m exhausted. I appreciate you being honest with me, really. We’ll chat later, okay?”

I stumbled out of the bed, stark naked and unsure of what to do with my hands. I placed them on my hips, my eyes scanning the floor in hopes that my mouth would find the words—not just any words, but the right words.

What were the right words?

“Whitney, we can talk about this. Please stay.”

“Carter,” she looked at me good-naturedly, placing her palm gently on my cheek, “let a girl hold on to a little bit of her dignity, will ya?” With a wry smile, she turned for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

The right words still evaded me, and before I could find them, she was gone.

11
SPIDER WEBS

When Whitney left in the middle of the night, despite my bone-deep tiredness, I still couldn’t manage to fall asleep. My mind wrestled with the same thoughts it had contemplated out on the beach the night before. Each thought spun with the ceiling fan. I lay there on my bed, just watching the blades turn and turn.

She’d told me she loved me. Whitney fucking
loved
me.

That was some intense stuff. And what had I done? Stuttered and let her run away, all because I still hadn’t gotten a grip on my own baggage. All because I still couldn’t let go of the fact that I fell in love with my best friend and it never worked out. How stupid was that? How stupid was I for being so unable to get past something so simple?

Because in reality, it was simple.

I loved Kate, she didn’t love me. That’s all there was to it.

Only, that really wasn’t the issue. The past didn’t matter. Only the present did. What did I feel for Whitney?

That was the real question.

And it could only be answered by being honest with myself. Was I really ready to move on, like I thought I was? Was I ready to put myself out there? Whitney was nothing like Kate. My relationship with Whitney was nothing like my friendship with Kate. There were zero similarities, yet here I was, comparing the two like a complete idiot.

Whitney had been right. I couldn’t start something new if I was still hanging onto the old. But it was too late for that. I’d already jumped in waist deep with Whitney, and the girl told me she loved me. She’d been burned ten times worse than I ever had—not once, with her ex, but apparently twice, by Ruben—and yet she’d been able to put herself out there with me.

What the hell was my problem?

My eyes finally closed sometime while pondering that as the sun was coming up, but they flew open when there was a knock at the door. In a restless daze, I sat up and crawled over the bed to peek at the alarm clock. It was 10 a.m., which meant I must have been sleeping for a while, but it felt like I’d just closed my eyes.

Sliding my glasses onto the bridge of my nose and throwing on a pair of jeans, I stumbled over to the door.

Then I almost tripped and fell face first to the ground.

“Kate?” I breathed, my hand stilling on the doorknob.

“Hey,” she said quietly, holding a small duffle bag in front of her. She looked sheepishly at me, then past the doorway and into my place. “I tried to give you some notice last night that I was coming, but the call kept getting dropped. It got late, so I didn’t bother texting you after that.”

The memory of her call on the beach last night hit me, and I stumbled back a bit. “You flew here last night? What…what are you doing here?” Her dark hair was swept back, elegant as usual, and her eyes were just as soulful as always, penetrating the deepest part of me. Goddamn it, she was still breathtaking.

“I took a redeye. We need to talk, Carter. In person.”

The sunlight streaming through the doorway was hurting my eyes. I squinted and waved her in, feeling in my pockets for a pack of smokes.

“Wow,” Kate said when she stepped inside, eyeing my flat, “quite the bachelor pad you have here, Romeo. You said you work at the shop downstairs?”

“Yeah, I do.” I snatched up my shirt from the floor and pulled it on, struggling with the sleeves. Kate giggled under her breath. I could feel her eyes on me. “What are you laughing at?” I knew exactly what she was laughing at.

“Having problems?”

“Always,” I muttered, finally making progress with the sleeves. I adjusted the shirt over my torso and reached for my lighter, desperate to step outside. My body made a move for the balcony door but froze mid stride.

What if Whitney swung by and caught a glimpse of me with Kate? That couldn’t happen.

“So, what is it you want to talk about?” I asked hastily, ditching the balcony idea.

Kate gently set her duffle bag at her feet, folding her arms across her chest. “Don’t sound too happy to see me, or anything.”

“Don’t, Kate.”

“Don’t what?”

“Do that. It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair? I missed you. We’ve been talking on the phone and everything’s been good, right? What’s the problem? Now, will you hug me or do I have to tackle you? Dean gave me permission to initiate a tackle hug if necessary.”

My fingertips itched at my sides. They wanted a cigarette. They wanted to tug at my lip ring. They wanted to rip at my hair. Every part of me was hyperaware of her presence in my apartment. This wasn’t like the phone. I was wrong, thinking things were starting to feel normal again with Kate.

This was so not normal.

I sighed. “Come here.”

She took a hesitant step, eyeing me first to make sure it really was okay to touch me, her gaze lingering on my new piercing for a second. Then she was in my arms, the side of her face pressed against my chest, and the cavern she’d carved there immediately ached.

This was wrong. So, so wrong.

“You smell funny,” she whispered. Dampness breached the thin cotton of my shirt. She sniffled and squeezed me tighter. “I’m so sorry for everything, Carter.”

“Is he with you?”

“His name’s Ryan. You used to call him your friend.”

“That was before.”

She sniffled again, her quiet tears soaking into my chest. “If I can forgive him, can you try and do the same?”

“I am trying.” That wasn’t total bullshit, but it was pretty close.

“I came alone. Would you mind if I stayed for a few days?”

My whole body stiffened, and she must’ve felt the shift, because she pulled back to look up at me, keeping her arms wrapped tight around my back. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Kate.”

“Oh. Okay.” She released me and slowly stepped back. Her chin was turned down while her fingers quickly worked to swipe beneath her eyes.

“Here,” I said, turning to grab her a tissue from the kitchen, “you’re a mess.”

She let out a dry laugh and wiped at her runny mascara. “Thanks.”

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

I busied myself with the coffeemaker while she moseyed around the flat in silence. She couldn’t be here. This couldn’t be happening. Not right now, when I was still reeling over the confession Whitney had made at some ungodly hour of the night, and when I’d barely slept. I was edgy, irritated, uncomfortable, and itching for that smoke.

I wasn’t happy to see Kate, but not because of my feelings for her.

It was because of my feelings for Whitney.

Kate admired the view from the balcony and I watched her carefully. She was devastatingly beautiful, as usual. She reminded me of home and warmth and a thousand priceless memories, but I didn’t want her here. Each emotion was conflicting and full of contradiction, creating one tiring combination.

“So,” she finally spoke up, turning to watch me fill the mugs, “what’s new besides your piercing? You have a girl, I see.”

A small splash of coffee hit the counter as I poured. “Huh?”

She smiled knowingly and lowered her eyes from my face to my neck.

I glanced down. “What are you grinning at?”

“Oh, just the nasty bruise you’re sporting, that’s all.”

“Bruise?” I ducked around the corner and swung the bathroom door open. Flicking on the light, I saw the bruise. A lovely hickey stared back at me in the mirror.

Damn.

“I haven’t had one of these in ages,” I mumbled, shutting off the light. I returned to the kitchen about two shades redder. “Yeah, well, it’s messy.”