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“Got a pen?”
I pat my pockets and groan when I realize they’re empty. “Can you just text it to me.
“I don’t have him as a contact, I just have his number memorized.”
“Shit, okay. One second.” I put her speaker phone and open my notes app. “I’m ready.”
She rattles off the number. “Thank you. Porsha I owe you dinner.”
“Forget dinner. You owe me a fucking orgasm, you shit.”
She hangs up. Next time I see her, she’s going to let me have it. I copy and paste Dean’s information into my phone.
“Who’s that?” Beth asks from behind and I jump.
She’s standing in the doorway watching me. “She’s my AA sponsor.”
“Oh, I didn’t know they took orgasm as payment these days.”
I narrow my eyes, surprised by her tone.“She’s a friend, and yeah, we hooked up a few times.”
She stiffens. “Oh, I see.” The accusation in her voice and the hurt in her expression prick my nerves. “You see, what?” I challenge.
“Nothing.” She blinks and turns for the studio. I wait a beat and collect myself before I follow her. She’s standing by the piano, her arms crossed in front of her eying me like I’ve wronged her.
I see red,“Don’t play this game with me, Beth. You said we should be friends. Now, you’re acting like I’ve betrayed you. All these mixed signals you give, it’s not cool.
She lifts her head to look at me. “So, you wouldn’t get to be pissed if you heard me talking about orgasms with a guy?”
Anger surges through me so fast, for a second, I’m afraid my head is going to explode. “Do you hear yourself? You’ve held me at arm’s length all summer. Asked me to live with just being your friend. You have a fucking fiancé, Beth. I have a friend I have not fucked. In fact, I haven’t been with anyone in the last five years but you. While you…” I run a hand through my hair. “You. Don’t. Get. To. Be. Pissed. At. Me.”
“I’m not. I didn’t know. I just—” She licks her lower lip and even now, in the middle of an argument, I want to lick it, too. “Oh, Carter. What do I do?”
Seeing her conflict so nakedly makes everything inside me of ache. I should walk away. But, I’d miss her. She’s clever, curious, and just beneath the surface of the self possession she wears like armor is a caprice and cavalierness that makes me wish I could bottle it and take it with me everywhere. And when she laughs, her the whole room lights up. She’s my favorite person and I’m crazy about her. And I know she feels this same way.
But, she has to make a choice. I blow out a harsh breath and put my cards on the table. “You know what I want. What happens next will be what you want.”
She looks down, away from the demand my eyes are making. I tip her chin up and force her to meet my eyes.
She’s smiling. But her eyes are sad.
“Don’t smile at me when you don’t mean it,” I say and brush a light kiss across her forehead before I let her go.
Tears cling to her lashes before she brushes them away with the back of her hand and then closes her eyes for the longest three seconds of my life.
When she opens her eyes, her tears are gone and blue pinwheels of regret swirl in front of me. My stomach falls, disbelief howls in my head, but I can see the truth plain as day.
This girl is about to break my fucking heart.
And like it knows what’s coming, it beats frantically in my ribcage, and I brace myself for the blow.
Her lips part, but whatever she’s about to say is forgotten. Her eyes dart to something over my shoulder and grow wide, her face drains of color and she lets out a blood-curdling scream.
28
Beth
Mercy
