And then I caved.
“Just call him for me.”
“Nellie, no.”
“Jamie. Mom isn’t home for another hour at least. It’sfine.”
“Yeah, but Dadishome. You seriously want to get in trouble with him again?”
Right. Dad was lurking somewhere upstairs, either in his study or his bedroom. “I’ll take the phone outside. I’ll be five minutes. If we get caught, just say you left it on the couch and I took it. Jamie. Please.”
Jamie finally lifted his head from his book, expression flat. He was curled up in a chair in the living room, and I hovered over him, hand out, breaking the law. He’d caveeventually, especially because he could see on my face how serious I was. I needed to call him. I needed to know where everything stood between us.
Jamie’s fingers loosened on his book, in tandem with his shoulders. That was it. He was about to say—“No.”
I kicked his chair. “Are you seriously going to hold a grudge about Sunday? I said I was sorry for making you worry.”
“Our party is on Saturday,” he grumbled, resuming his attempt to pointedly ignore me. “Talk to Carter then.”
I kicked his chair again, falling onto the couch with a huff. Why was my brother choosingnowto be a goody-two-shoes? What would a phone call hurt? It’d be quick. I just had to ask Carter one question—are you secretly dating Lydia?
While I’d cleaned these last few days, I’d been obsessing over two things, and one of them had been Carter’s intentions. He claimed he liked me, but showed up to Ms. Jennings’s birthday party with Lydia. He said he wanted me to meet his parents, but would take a call from Lydia in the middle of our date. Something was going on. I needed to find out what. And honestly, I kind of hoped hewasinto Lydia. I still wanted to meet Dr. Pembleton, but there was no longer that crushingneedto. I’d never win Dad’s approval back now, even if I’d gotten under Dr. Pembleton’s wing.
And the other thing I’d been obsessing over? Beck. I thought about the way we’d parted, and all the things I wished I’d told him. Like how I thought about him all the time. That I’d kept his number in case I ever got tooselfish and allowed myself to call him. That was when I had run into him Senior Night, I’d hoped he’d been Mr. ASMR, because that would’ve meant he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. But those words wouldn’t touch him now, I knew. Not when we’d been in this same situation before, and the words I’d promised—I really, really like you—were contradicted not even a minute later.
No, I needed a different strategy to reach him. I just hadn’t figured outhowyet.
I shoved to my feet. “Thanks for being helpful, Jamie,” I muttered, closing the conversation in my head.
He called after me, “Ever and always.”
I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him.
When I got to the front door, pivoting to pace the house again, the sound of a car door shutting had me stopping. Nosey, I peeked out the window, and my heart jumped into my throat.
Carter, walking across the street from where he parked his car, was clearly coming toward my house.
I flipped the deadbolt and pried the door open far enough that I could squeeze my head out. “Stop,” I whispered to him, shaking my hand.
Carter stopped in his tracks on the path that led to the front door, eyebrows raising.
If Jamie heard him come to the front porch, I wasn’t sure what he’d do. Call Mom? Tell Dad? I wasn’t going to risk it. “Go wait at the gate,” I told Carter, pointing in the direction where he could round the house.
Carter gave me theOKAYsignal, inching forward as if he were in some spy film. Quietly, Ishut the door, grabbing my shoes in the foyer. I glanced up at the landing of the stairs, half expecting to find Dad peering down. He wasn’t. Good.
“I’m going to get some fresh air,” I told Jamie, heading to the patio door that led into the backyard. “Am I allowed to do that, prison guard?”
“Knock yourself out.” He flipped a page, clearly not about to follow me.
Good. After slipping on my sandals—and double checking that Jamie wouldn’t be able to see out the window from his chair—I slid open the patio door and stepped out.
The only windows that looked out into the backyard were mine and Jamie’s, so I didn’t have to worry about Dad peeking out, either. I hurried down the wooden steps to where the gate was set into the six-foot fence. Unlatching it, I pried it open just enough to see Carter. “Hi.”
Carter was wearing a cream-colored linen shirt, tucked into a pair of khaki-colored chinos, with his brown hair styled back effortlessly. I’d almost forgotten how handsome he was after a week of not seeing him. “Hi,” he whispered back, and then smiled. “You smell like cleaner.”
Iknewmy skin still reeked of it. “I’m grounded,” I told him, taking a step back so he could enter the backyard. “They’ve turned me into Cinderella. Send me the mice to do it for me.”
Carter laughed. “Does that make me Prince Charming?”
