Declaration (6 page)

For crying out loud, where were my damn cigarettes?

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking me to do, exactly,” I said.

“I just want to keep an eye on her. Emma’s always been very level headed. She doesn’t get into trouble—like, at all. Karaoke and drinks at Pete’s are the extent of her wild ways, and she’s always taken school, work, and life so seriously. She’s ambitious and hard working. So, to see her this way…I just worry. What she’s going through is about so much more than Jackson. It’s about Jen, her sister. After she died, Emma didn’t grieve fully. I mean, she did go through some of the normal stages of grief, but there were things about Jen’s death that kept her from finding that closure she needed. I think it’s all hitting her now. I think she’s finally processing it, and that Jackson set the whole thing off.”

“Damn. Well, I meant what I said to you on the phone. I’ll help however I can.”

“When I can’t be with her, can you stay with her? Like, while I’m at work, would you mind hanging out and just making sure she has some company? Maybe we can take turns, like shifts, or something? I know she’s just a stranger to you. And I am, too. It’s a lot to ask, but—”

“I’ll do it,” I cut her off. The decision was easy. “You’re not strangers. Jackson is my friend and Emma’s important to him, and you’re a friend by association, so I’m happy to do this. Plus, you say that you like me or something like that. How can I deny you?” I winked playfully and she briefly looked down at her shoes. Those green eyes didn’t stray from mine for long, though. She quickly lifted her gaze again and leveled it with mine, her thankful smile piercing me with sincerity.

“I don’t want to interfere with your work schedule or anything. If you could just swing by before you go in or after you get off, that would be great. Shit,” she mumbled, chewing her lip and looking off in the distance, “you’re without a car or something now?”

“It’s fine. I can take the bus. I’ve already looked up the route and bus number I need to catch to get around the island when I need to run errands. And Jackson’s asking around about a car I can buy. We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay, well in the meantime, I can give you rides. How about I pick you up before my work shifts and just drop you off at her place—except for when you have to work, of course?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Her baby greens fixed on me, carefully assessing me as she continued to chew on her bottom lip. “I don’t know what brought you all the way to Sanibel Island, but whatever it was, thank God it did. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help with this, Carter.”

I fought the urge to clear my throat, forcing down the discomfort that so commonly arose whenever my motive for moving to Sanibel came up. I watched Whitney watching me, and something in her smoky green stare told me she knew there was more to my story than I had let on during our introduction. She was right, of course, but I wasn’t about to elaborate.

***

“She’s
still
sleeping?” Whitney asked as she walked in Emma’s apartment door. I was lounging in the living room, scribbling some lyrics on a piece of paper for a new song I was working on. Whitney and I had made it through the weekend babysitting Emma, but it wasn’t really necessary. Since the tequila incident the day Whitney had come to ask me for help, Emma had remained holed up sleeping in her room, with the exception of a few trips to work and school, courtesy of me and Whitney. We’d wheeled her out and stuffed her into the car, encouraging her not to miss any classes or work shifts, but today was different. There was no use trying to force Emma out of bed. She wasn’t budging, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“Yup. And she locked the door a few hours ago, so I couldn’t drag her out of there even if I tried.”

Whitney placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter with a sigh. I stood and joined her in the kitchen, checking out the same pink and white ruffled maid uniform I’d seen her wear before, only this time, the ruffled shirt was paired with pants. The sexy skirt was gone.

Bummer.

“Well, I don’t work at the diner tonight. And you’re off, right? You wanna order a pizza and watch a movie? I grabbed these groceries on the way home, but I’m too damn tired to cook.”

“That sounds great. I can cook, if you want.”

She pulled her bun loose, letting her inky black locks fall around her shoulders, then started tugging at her uniform shirt buttons to undo the collar. The way the white ruffles along the edge of the shirt loosened gave me an eyeful of her perky little breasts. I adjusted my glasses and turned for the refrigerator, not wanting to go overboard ogling her. But damn, it was hard not to stare.

“You cook?” she asked, kicking her shoes off and helping me load the groceries into the fridge.

“A little, here and there. Depends on how you define cooking.” I smiled, pulling a box of pasta from one of the bags. “Or are you in the mood for pizza?”

“Hey, if you wanna cook, I won’t object. I’m just gonna run and grab a shower, okay? If you need anything, just holler.”

“Cool.”

She disappeared down the hall and I heard the bathroom door close. I finished unloading the groceries, set the oven to preheat, and began to cook up some of the pasta, placing a can of sauce on a slow simmer. Next came the garlic bread. I slid the loaf in the oven and started to reach for some dishes from the top cabinet, pausing when I felt my phone buzz from my pocket.

Kate.

My shoulders slumped. My whole body seemed to deflate at those four letters glaring back at me from my cell phone screen. I glanced down the hall toward the bathroom. The shower was running and Whitney was singing. A small smile pulled at my lips, but it was quickly chased away when the phone buzzed in my hand again.

“Damn it,” I mumbled, moving toward the front door. I spotted and snatched my smokes from the kitchen table. Maybe it was time to speak to her and get this over with. I couldn’t avoid her forever. If I waited until I felt like talking to her, waited until I wasn’t livid with Ryan anymore, then I might never talk to her again. Because how would I know if I’d ever get over what happened?

I didn’t.

“Hello?” I answered, stepping out the front door and into the apartment building hallway.

“Carter,” Kate breathed, her voice pregnant with relief. “How…how are you? You have no idea how happy I am you picked up this time.”

“I’m doing okay,” I lied. “Just been busy settling into my new life here, that’s all.”

“Too busy to answer a text? To speak to me for five minutes on the phone? Carter, I’m sorry for how I reacted that night. I wish I would’ve known how to handle it, I just freaked. I love you so much—as just a friend.”

There was a punch to my gut. As if she had to clarify that?

“I couldn’t lose you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I felt like I had to choose between you and Ryan, and I couldn’t do that.”

“I never asked you to choose, Kate. It wasn’t like that.” I pulled a cigarette from my pack and lit up, savoring the smoke as it rolled from my lungs. Sweet baby Jesus, that was good nicotine.

“But you won’t accept him. You won’t accept that he made a mistake. You know he loves me, you’ve seen it, Carter. You’ve seen he’s genuine. Will you ever be able to accept that I chose to take him back? That the wedding’s back on? That I love him? Because I need you. I’ll always need you.”

Her words wrapped around me and cut into my skin, pricking at me with razor sharpness. The words came out in a rush, before I could whip them into submission. “I need you, too.”

“Does it help any if I tell you that we’re taking our time with the wedding? We’re not rushing into it. We set a date for May next year. We’re going to try and take things slow. He knows I need time to process everything and that we need time alone, time to move past all that’s happened. He’s so sorry for what he’s done. I didn’t make things easy on him, either, being away in St. Lucia and all that. We both played a big role in everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “Okay, sure.” She played a role in him showing up at that sex haven he used to frequent? She played a role in him winding up in a room with that vicious, vindictive blonde?

Right. And I was the Prince of England.

Kate began to sob, and the sound sliced through me. I hated that damn sound. Always have, always will. “Please don’t push me away,” she said.

I blew out a stream of smoke and leaned back against the hallway wall, tipping my head back and taking another drag. “I’d never push you away, Kate. I mean, I won’t anymore. Okay?”

“Can I come see you?”

“What?” I almost choked. “No, no you can’t do that.”

“What? Why not?”

“Why not?” I laughed, shaking my head. Was she serious? I might’ve been ready to talk to her again, but there were still thousands of miles separating us. I needed those miles. “Because, I’m not…I’m not ready for that.”

“Please don’t be angry at me anymore, Carter. I don’t think I can take it.”

“I’m not angry.”

Silence passed between us.

“Okay, I’m angry at
him
,” I clarified. “But you…with you, I’m just…God, I don’t know.” I did know. I was mortified that I kissed her. Mortified by the rejection. But I couldn’t tell her that. Not yet. She had to know already, anyway.

I finished off my smoke and turned for the door. “Look, I have to go,” I said. “Some friends are waiting on me. I’ll call you back later tonight, okay?”

“Wait, I want to know how you’re doing out there. I want to hear all about your new life, please.”

“You will. I promise I’ll call you back.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. Bye.” Hallelujah, I’d done it. I’d finally spoken to her. My mind signaled that I should feel relief, but the unease in my gut wasn’t having any of that. Because it knew what my mind didn’t want to face just yet.

There would be no relief—no real relief, anyway—until I told Kate the truth.

Told her everything. Spilled every single little detail, from the way she rendered me a complete lovesick mess from the second I met and spilled coffee on her, to the night I found her rolling around in the sheets with Ryan, to the night I kissed her and she decided to kiss me back. I needed to get it all out, even though she already knew most of it by now. I needed to speak my mind so I could move on.

But what good was it speaking my mind, when it wouldn’t make any difference, anyway? The words would be spoken, the raw truth would be out, but that wouldn’t change reality. She’d listen, and look me straight in the eyes. Maybe even hug me and tell me how much she loves me—again, as just a friend.

But I’d still be invisible.

4
COMPETITION

Hanging up, I slipped my phone in my pocket and walked back into Emma’s apartment, careful to close the door quietly behind me. As much as I wanted Emma to finally emerge from her bedroom, I didn’t want to wake her if she really did need the sleep.

I stilled when my gaze landed on Whitney. She was in the kitchen, wrapped only in a small white towel, her back to me as she reached for a glass from the cabinet. Her toned , tan legs begged me to drink them in, and her long, wet dark hair only added to the mouth-watering sight.

Well, fuck me.

There was so much smooth, beautiful skin exposed, my eyes weren’t sure which part to focus on.

“Oh!” she squeaked, turning when she felt my presence. She tucked the towel tighter around herself and pointed to the glass. “Emma actually unlocked her bedroom door! She asked for some water. I’m just bringing her a glass. I’ll be right back.” Her cheeks went rosy and she darted off, leaving me standing there a gaping mess. I was instantly hard. So not ideal when I was here, trying to help her out, trying to be her friend.

Just a friend.

Kate’s words from earlier pierced me. I dropped my cigarette pack on the counter and checked on the boiling pasta, ready to drain the noodles. Now was a good time to forget that a hot chick wearing nothing but a towel was just a room away.

I’d taken advantage of Kate when she needed me. I wouldn’t do that to Whitney, someone I’d just met, when she needed my help.

Whitney returned looking cozy in blue striped pajama pants and a baby blue tank top. I spooned some sauce into a bowl and tasted some before dishing out the noodles next. “A little early for PJs, isn’t it?”

She grinned and poured herself a glass of iced tea. “Who cares? I’m not going back out tonight. If I ruled the world, I’d demand everyone wear PJs all day long.”

“You would, would you?”

“Yup.” She inhaled the sauce’s aroma with deep appreciation, sticking a finger in the pot to swipe up a taste. “Mmmm that smells
so
good.” She popped her finger into her mouth. “Tastes good, too.”

“Chef Montgomery, at your service.”

“Is that your last name?” She hoisted herself up onto the counter, taking the whole bowl of steaming pasta and setting it on her lap. She picked carefully at the noodles, avoiding billows of steam, blowing on one after the other before tossing them in her mouth. Watching her eat like that turned me on just about as much as the barely-there pajama top she was wearing. The light blue material was sheer and super thin, showing off her pert nipples as they strained against the cloth.