Page 37 of Carte

It didn’t help when I ventured out on a walk because in a matter of seconds, he would be out there with me, walking silently behind.

After we had our little talk last week, a talk where I was sure he was tearing down walls and letting me see him, nothing happened. I honestly didn’t know what I expected to happen.

I was positive he felt the same way I did, was sure I saw the desire swimming in his eyes, and one few occasions it looked like he was restraining himself from moving towards me.

However, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Last night, I felt him come up behind me and stand in the shadows, watching me. I almost missed a chord. I was being wrung so tight waiting for him to make a move.

But when nothing happened, I did miss the damned note, and I had to laugh at myself with how ridiculous I was.

Waiting for a man to make a move.

I haven’t done that in years. Haven’t been so insecure for a long time.

These days, when I wanted something, I went for it. It was rare that I indulged, but I did. It usually ended the next morning, something that lasted the whole weekend, but I didn’t put myself in that vulnerable position of trusting someone so completely anymore.

But this, with Carter, was different. I already trusted him. With my body and my songs.

As the days went by, I realized he was the only person I actually did trust completely in all my life.

That should have freaked me out, but the only thing it did was make me want him more deeply. More acutely.

My need for him ran deeper than a handful of nights could provide. And it wasn’t just his body that I yearned for. I wanted all of him. His looks, smiles, and soft, carefully spoken words.

Most of all, I wanted his pain. I wanted those shadows in his eyes, so I could banish them, and only light would remain.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t be farther from the mark.

All those looks and glances were nothing more than my imagination playing tricks on me.

It was more than clear he wasn’t interested. And I was living in hell.

There was one positive in all of that.

All that pent-up desire, and longing for a man who didn’t want me, made up for some damn good lyrics.

If I kept it up at the rate I was going, I would end up with three albums full of songs I wrote for Carter.

I rubbed at my forehead as I entered the kitchen. I didn’t sleep well last night, thanks to the man currently scowling at the mug held up in his hand like it broke his favorite toy.

“Morning,” I muttered.

All I got in response was a grunt.

A damned grunt.

I went to the coffee pot, picked up a mug, and poured the black liquid hoping the smell of it would dull my senses to anything else but its goodness.

When I turned around, I could see he was still standing in the same position as he was when I came in. “Do you glare at your eggs too?”

“Only if there’s no one else to glare at. I have to train on something after all.” Carter quipped as he gave up on his morning task and set the mug down.

All I could do was stare at him with my mouth hanging open.

Did he just… made a joke?

His whole face was changed. He was still glaring, kind of, but I could see him peaking at me out of the corners of his eyes, his mouth twitching, and a boyish charm played peek-a-boo on his handsome face.