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“Tell me what you want, Zoe.” I leaned in close, keeping my voice low, my lips hovering right over her ear. “Tell me and it’s yours.”
She pulled back, her eyelids heavy, her breath coming in short pants. She bit her puffy bottom lip and I clenched my fists to keep my cool.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
Fourteen
Zoe
“On the right,” Carter answered.
This time, he led me. He opened the door and flipped on the light, adjusting it with a dimmer switch so it was light enough to see, but not too bright. I looked around at his room, expecting to be horrified. But his bed was made. His flannel comforter looked clean. His clothes were put away.
“What are you looking at?” he asked, eyebrow raised.
“Nothing.”
“You were definitely looking for something. Nothing’s going to jump out at you.”
“I know, it’s just… the way you describe yourself sometimes,” I started. “You act like you’re this irresponsible guy, so I was expecting…”
“A mattress on the floor?”
“Kind of. Especially after seeing that sofa in your living room.”
“Fuck, everybody hates that sofa,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, majority rules, the sofa goes.”
Carter reached behind his neck and yanked off his shirt in one swift, wholly masculine, totally effortless gesture. My breath caught as I took in the sight of his broad shoulders. He didn’t have the body of a guy who spent hours in the gym. He had the body of someone who worked with his hands. Probably outside.
Tanned skin. Hard muscle. Strong forearms. Rough hands.
I swallowed hard. I struggled to meet his eyes. Carter was easily the hottest man I’d ever been with.
“Good,” I added with a nervous laugh. “That sofa is…” I struggled for something witty but came up short. “Really ugly.”
Fuck, I wished I could channel Party Zoe. She’d have no problem grabbing the hottest guy she could find and pulling him into the nearest bedroom. But standing here with Carter, I felt every one of my thirty-four years. Every one of my stretch marks was twice as big and ugly. The misspelled tattoo on my hip wasright therefor him to see, a reminder of how stupid I could be sometimes.
He narrowed his eyes at me, concerned. “Zoe, are you okay? Did you change your mind or something?”
“No, of course not. I want to do this, Carter.”
“Good. Me too.”
“Like,reallywant to do this.”
He smirked. “Me too.”
I wrung my hands. He narrowed his eyes, concerned.
“But maybe tonight isn’t the night?” he asked. He went to get dressed again, but I grabbed his shirt and chucked it to the floor.
“Crepe diem,” I blurted out.
“I think it’scarpediem.”
“No, no, no.” I lifted the hem of my dress, revealing the lacy underwear I had on beneath it. I saw the heated look in Carter’s eyes. “My tattoo. That’s what it says.Crepe diem.”
“I don’t understand.”
