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She opens it. “Oh my God.” Her eyes race across the results.
She covers her mouth with her bandaged hand and looks up at me. Her eyes search mine, hopeful and dazed.
She looks back to the paper. “Not even one marker? What does this mean?” she asks, still reading.
“That …we can be whatever we want.”
Her sea-blue eyes fly up to mine, full of challenge and blazing with joy.
“And what do you want?” she asks.
I had imagined our reunion much differently. She was going to turn around, see me and rush into my arms. ”I’m sorry I walked in like that. I know you didn’t want to see me.”
“I didn’t mean that, Carter. I’m just mad at you,” she says softly and she looks at me full on, the unflinching honesty in her eyes slays me.
“I’m sorry about Porsha,”
“That’s not what I’m upset about.” She snaps.
“It’s not?” I blink.
She shakes her head.
“No, I was upset about Thanksgiving. When things get hard, or you don’t get your way, you can’t just throw your hands up and walk away or say things that you can’t take back.”
Her aim is true and her words carry the echo of a sentiment my father used to express and I wish I’d started with that part of my apology.
Satisfied that her burn is properly bandaged, I sit down next to her.
“I’m…impulsive. I know that. But, I swear to you that I will never open my mouth to say anything like what I said the other night.
“Don’t swear, don’t promise, just do it,” she says.
“So, you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes.
“I’ll need more groveling, but I guess coming here when you should be getting ready for your show tonight is a good start,” she smiles and links her fingers with mine.
I fall deeper, harder, irrevocably.
“Thank God,” I say with an exaggerated sigh.
She laughs, but it’s not my imagination, when her eyes dart to, and linger on, my lips.
I’m so tempted, but not yet…I clear my throat and back away a little.
I skim my lips across the top of her head and she leans into me. I press my lips to the sweet curve of her ear and she trembles.
“Then, what are you waiting for?”
64
Beth
Coming apart
As soon as the words leave my lips, the jaunty grin on his face disappears. His hands close like vices around my upper arms and he drags me to him. My breath catches in my parched throat at the blaze of raw hunger in his eyes.
