“You’re such a liar,” I scoff, shaking my head. I fall back against the window, letting out a little, disappointed breath.
Silence stretches between us. We fly down the road in the darkness, the streetlights illuminating our glares every few seconds. I’m mortified. I trusted this guy to honour his word, something I truly expected him to do.
“Her name is Irina.”
“Carter,” I warn.
“Irina Coasta.”
I know her name. I know her face. I would be able to identify her voice in a room full of people. One video, one moment in my life, and look at the impact it had. Do men realize that when they do the things that they do? How kissing another pair of lips will have us clammering up every time we see someone in public with the same cupid’s bow? How running their fingers through another head of hair will have us staring in the mirror for hours, criticizing every strand of our own? Do they understand the fallout? How it messes with our heads? How it changes us?
“I didn’t sleep with her,” he continues calmly. I stiffen a bit, listening, but continue to glare out the window. “I haveneverslept with her. Reno has. Even before that idiot took the craziest woman in the world to bed, she’s been around. She’s a lurker, Arden. She hangs around the team. Ask any of the guys and they’ll have an Irina Coasta story.”
I wonder if that’s true. He’s had enough time to create a pretty fluffy story with his teammates, if I were to ask. I make a mental note to bring this woman up to Penny. Penny would neverlie for Carter. She’d never fabricate something like this just because he’s Declan’s friend.
“When the whole thing came out about me having a girlfriend, Boss and Lowesy worried that she might take it and run with it. That if you hadn’t agreed, she would have painted herself as my other half in the press. She’s not well, Arden. I’ve never slept with her, okay? Not before you, and after you? Do you really think I’d do that to you?”
I swallow, slowly turning to look at him. He’s still glaring at the road, but I study his profile anyway. He looks genuine. He always does, though. I don't want to believe he’s a liar, but come on. What kind of woman would make up a whole fake life on a world-famous podcast?
Yet still, I give him a damn chance to convince me otherwise. I like him far too much for him to wind up being a cliche.
“Why would she make this up when it can be disproven?”
“Can it be?” Carter asks, glancing at me. “She’s in a lot of pictures. She’s always around the team. Almost every single time we’re atIcebox,she’s there. It is going to be my word against hers. The only thing I have on my side is that the team is more than aware that she’s nuts, and they can back me up on it.”
I sigh, running my hand over my face.
“And I have a Lemmy.”
“A Lemmy?” I ask, dropping my hand.
“Eleanor Lemon,” he explains, like that should make any sense to me.
“Another woman in this equation? Great. I’m fairly certain the calculator is going to combust with the amount of us in bed with you.”
“She’s my lawyer,” Carter clarifies, ignoring the jab. “She’s damn good, too. That’s where I went this morning. To talk to her. I wanted to be able to come back to you with the truth, and to be able to tell you how I’m going to fix this.”
He turns his head to look at me, sparkly eyes flooded with worry. Damn. He’s being honest, isn’t he? I blew up on him because he has a stalker, and he let me.
“You promise?” I ask.
Carter dips his chin. “I’d never do that to you, Red. Cross my heart.”
A long pause seeps into the space between us. I spend that time staring at the face that I’ve grown to trust, hoping to god that he’s being sincere. I want to believe him. Not only because I’m certain if he was caught in this lie, he would have owned it by now, but because it seems so out of character for the man Iknow. He doesn’t behave this way. He isn’t a man who goes back on his word.
I’ll concede for now. Trust him until given information that forces me not to. I’ll know if I’m a fool after one conversation with Penelope Sweeten.
“I can fight.”
He frowns. “What?”
“If you want her to get the message, I can fight. I know you might not expect that from me because I don’t have a rap sheet as long as yours, but give me a glass of whiskey and set me loose, and Irina won’t know what hit her.”
Carter’s frown slowly pulls into a smile. “You believe me?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say, nodding. I reach over the seat to place my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have let you explain before I ripped you to shreds.”
“No, I get it,” Carter says. He takes one hand off the steering wheel, guiding my hand down his arm until he can wind his fingers with mine. “I’m not letting anyone ruin this, Red. Not even crazier women than you.”
