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Sam
The second Carter crosses the threshold, I yank him into me. Our lips crash together in a heated kiss that sends my body into overdrive.
“We should probably move out of the doorway.” Carter nibbles on my bottom lip.
“Mm-hmm. Whatever,” I mumble as my tongue chases after his.
Carter pulls away with a laugh. He turns to close the door, flipping the deadbolt with a snap. Then he wraps his arms around my waist in a hug that is decidedly less passionate than the kiss we just shared. I squeeze him tighter, automatically sinking into the embrace.
He presses his nose into my neck, and an alarm sounds in my head. “Is everything okay?”
“I had a shitty day at work, and I just needed to see you.”
“I’m glad you came over, then. You’re in luck, too. Alice dropped off a batch of her peanut butter blossoms, and I haven’t eaten them all yet. She brought them over to gush about the news that I’d found my forever man. Thankfully, she let me get away with telling her how happy you make me without too many other details.”
Carter chuckles, and I feel like I won the grand prize in life. I turn us, keeping my arm around his shoulder in an awkward embrace. We stumble our way into the kitchen, both of us giggling by the time we make it there.
“We made that way harder than it should’ve been.” Carter grins. I finally let go to grab the cookies and a couple of glasses of milk. I grab out some crackers and cheese to add to our snack tray. While delicious, the cookies wouldn’t likely get us very far.
“Yeah, but I got to keep my hands on you, and it ended with you looking at me like that.” I point at him. When he flushes pink, I send him a wink. “Do you want to talk about your day, or is a distraction in order?” I love being able to offer him the same question he asked me yesterday.
“Distraction first, then we can talk about it. I need a little time to decompress first.”
“You got it.” I hand him our drinks while I take the plate of snacks I just whipped up. We snuggle into the couch and I turn on Supernatural. Turning Carter into a fan of the show will be one of my greatest accomplishments. He’s obsessed, and I find it telling that he has a crush on Jensen Ackles while I find Misha Collins more my speed. He’s also taken to yelling, “Sammy!” at me on occasion. He finds it hilarious.
Two episodes and the whole container of cookies later, we’re horizontal on the couch with Carter’s back to my chest.
“I found some discrepancies at work today, and my boss told me to forget about it,” Carter says out of the blue. I snag the remote for the TV to pause the show.
“How big of an impact do these discrepancies have on the research?” I ask.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know. The potential for the data to be wrong is huge. I wanted to take the time to dig into it, but my boss told me to forget about it. I get where he’s coming from. We’ve got other things to worry about, but the implications of this error could be huge.”
“Would you get in trouble if you talked to the leads of any of the teams who use the program?”
“No. I don’t think so, anyway.” He’s quiet for a second as he thinks this through. “I guess I could let them know I found something strange, and then if they don’t do something to ensure their data is accurate, it’s sort of on them.”
“Exactly. All you can do is ensure they know about the mess up. You can’t force them to change anything about the data.”
Carter turns to face me. “True. I just hate knowing there are potential inaccuracies in their research. This shit could mean life or death for people. If those scores aren’t accurate, it could be saying that a medication is working when it isn’t.”
“I’m sorry your boss blew off your concerns. That’s not the best way to have handled the situation. Especially given the potential consequences.”
Carter shrugs as if it’s not a big deal, but I know this means something to him.
“Your concern is admirable, Carter. Not everyone would give a shit about some random anomaly. Even if the result is catastrophic.”
“I’m too paranoid and anal-retentive for my own good. I shouldn’t care this much. Not even my boss seems phased by this.”
I frown at him. “Has someone told you that?” His words didn’t feel like something he’d say about himself. While he’s not always the most confident person, I’ve never heard him say something that negative about himself.
“My ex used to tell me that sometimes. There would be days when he’d stay over a few nights in a row, and his stuff tended to explode everywhere. It was frustrating because the clutter would start to make me anxious. He’d always tell me I was being too obsessive about things that didn’t matter.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What a fucking asshole.”
Carter barks out a laugh. “Yeah, he was.”
“So, it’s settled. Caring about things that matter to you doesn’t make you paranoid, obsessive, or any other negative adjective you can come up with. And I swear to you right now, I will never make you feel bad for doing the things that help ease your mind.”
