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“Um…nothing, I guess.” For once, Sydney sounds unsure of herself. “Have a nice day,” she mutters, her voice trailing off as if she has left.
Even though her visit has piqued my interest, I have no desire to step into the hall and show myself. Jenny has learned over the years how to deal with situations like this one. She’s an expert at getting rid of women. I’m not ready to face Sydney. But I know I can’t avoid her forever.
Chapter 11
Sydney
It takes every bit of nerve I have in my body to drive straight from Manhattan and into New Jersey to confront Carter. After slaving over the sink in the women’s bathroom at my publisher’s office, I managed to get most of the ketchup stain out of my jacket. At least I look somewhat presentable, despite the tiny blemish.
What was I thinking, though? Most of my makeup disappeared along with my tears on the car ride over to New York. My curls are starting to frizz after my hair dryer debacle this morning. The only thing I had going for me was my clothes until that guy had to bump into me at Gray’s Papaya. That was just my luck. Lately, I have had plenty of bad vibes sent my way.
I’m hoping my luck is about to change because I can use some good news. Keeping my fingers crossed that Carter will hear my planned speech, I get out of my car and lock the door behind me. I practiced it several times on the way over here. But I’m nervous, so I hope I don’t choke on my words.
My body shakes as I walk toward Carter’s front door, the uncontrollable urge to run away almost too much to pass up. What if he laughs in my face? What if he never wants to speak to me again? That is my biggest fear and not because of the book. As much as I loved our little game, I want my big guy back. I miss Carter so much I can’t sleep or eat. My mind always wanders back to him.
Carter lives in a giant house, much like the one my parents live in off the Mainline of Philadelphia. Except Carter resides in South Jersey, like most of the professional athletes who play for Philadelphia teams. And he lives in an expensive neighborhood.
Most of the houses on the block are so far apart you couldn’t throw a rock at you neighbor’s window if you tried. Now, that’s what I call privacy. Living in the city, after all those years of growing up in suburban hell, I had eventually begun to love the noise that filled the otherwise silent void I had become accustomed to back home. This neighborhood has that same eerie quiet, with nothing more than birds chirping to keep me from focusing too much on the sound of myself breathing.
My heart pounds out of my chest as if I am on death row and about to face the executioner. Groveling is not something I have ever done before. Everything with Carter is a new experience for me. I hate that he makes me so on edge. If he were someone else, I would march right up to his door and tell him to fuck off after leaving me hanging. But I want him back, regardless of how stupid I feel coming here.
The wood hurts my knuckles when I knock on his larger than life front door. Carter is a big guy, so it’s no surprise the door reaches up so high I couldn’t touch the doorframe even if I jumped. I bet even Carter has a hard time reaching it. Holding my breath, I wait as the door swings open. I expect Carter, but instead, I get…a woman. A gorgeous woman. And she’s holding a baby. His baby?
Oh, my God. This must be why he was so closed off with me. He has a girlfriend or a wife and a baby. This wouldn’t be the first time I dated a guy, only to find out he was married or had a secret life I hadn’t known about.
The blonde woman smiles at me, a smile that travels up to her big, blue eyes as she adjusts the child in her arms. Her baby is adorable, maybe only a few months old, but he looks nothing like Carter. He looks like her with his soft features, pale skin, and bright eyes. Carter is the complete opposite of them—dark hair, borderline long enough to put in a hair tie, deep brown eyes that hold so much sadness they mirror mine, and that perfectly toned and tatted body I want to climb like a mountain.
“Can I help you?” the woman asks, giving me a pointed look. She kisses the top of the baby’s head to sooth him. He still has tears in his eyes, even though he seems happy with the toy in his hand.
Throwing my hands on my hips, I stare her down, wondering who the hell she is and why Carter never told me about her or the child. “I’m looking for Carter. Does he live here?”
“Yes,” she says, offering nothing of use to me. “What can I help you with?”
This conversation is so awkward my body is screaming for me to retreat. If Carter has a secret wife or girlfriend, then who am I to break up their family? I don’t want to be a home wrecker. A few times, I have unintentionally been that girl, and I hate the feeling. I hate not knowing what you have gotten yourself into ahead of time because the man was too much of a pig and a coward to own up to the truth. But this child and woman do not deserve this.
“Um…nothing, I guess.” For once, I sound so unsure of myself that even I don’t recognize my own voice. “Have a nice day,” I mumble under my breath as I spin around.
The few seconds it takes to get back to my car and slip inside are the longest few seconds of my life. I held my breath the entire way, practically running out of air by the time I grip the steering wheel and finally breathe again. After I glance up from the steering wheel and see the front door closed over, the first tear streams down my cheek, followed by the waterworks.
But I can’t sit here and cry in Carter’s driveway. A Carroway holds their head high and keeps their composure even in moments of duress, my mother would say. Nothing ever bothers her. Everything rolls off her back. I wish I could call her and tell her what happened with Carter, but she doesn’t even know he exists. Even if she did, she would say that he’s an idiot and to move on.
Sam was right. I have no friends other than Kennedy. My mother is the equivalent of talking to one of the statues in her garden, and my father is most likely locked away in his office or overseas somewhere, closing another deal for his company. I’m sure Kennedy is with Tyler, off celebrating their new child. I have no one. Nothing. All that is left are my books and my not-so-secret porn stash.
Tonight might be one of those nights where I break out the wine bra and walk along the Delaware River for some clarity. I do that when I need to clear my head and think about my next move. With Carter on the brain, I may need more than one wine bra to get me through the night. I had better stop by the liquor store to buy every bottle of red they have left. Because I sure as hell will need it.
Carter has a child. And a girlfriend. Or whatever the fuck she is to him. I hate him so much my skin tingles from the anger coursing through my veins.
After a few minutes of sobbing in my car, I push the start button and pull off Carter’s property, leaving my pride behind in his driveway. I sucked it up to come here and confront him, only to find out I was the only one invested from the start. He never had any intention to let me into his closed off heart. All the games we played were just that.
So, why would he lead me on and continue to play with me if he had a life waiting for him?
My mother would tell me that men have urges and that talented guys like my father and Carter are no exception. Like my dad, Carter is on the road more than he’s home, and I guess they both will take what they can get wherever they can get it. The difference between my mother and me is that she doesn’t care. Where I want a man to commit to me and only me for the rest of my life. Is that too much to ask? I think not.
As if reading my mind and knowing I need to talk, a call from Kennedy blares through the speakers of my Mercedes.
I press the call button on my steering wheel, relief washing over me. “Hey, K. Perfect timing.”
“Are you okay?” Her voice sounds soft, almost as if she’s whispering. “Carter just called Tyler. You showed up at his house unannounced?”
