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“It was dark, I wore a mask. I just... I don’t know what to do. I feel like shit. I want to tell her, but I’m afraid she’ll hate me for keeping it from her.”
“Why did you even go there? You could have called her instead.”
“I have no reason except that I’m stupid and just wanted to take my aggressions out on someone—not her. Also, I didn’t think she would want me. Afraid of rejection and all that bullshit.”
Carter sighs. “I told you, man, that she did and does still want you. Jeez. You’re a just a pussy.”
It sounds like he chuckles. “I guess I am. I made a mistake, but it turned out. Sort of. Since she doesn’t know it was me.”
“So, what, she just walked in there and didn’t disguise herself?” Carter whispers.
“No, she had on a party mask, but come on, dude. Those tattoos and honestly, that body. There was no mistaking her. Then, when she opened her mouth and spoke, I knew it was her. I should have told her right then, or at the very least, walked out and left, but I couldn’t. I was weak. What do I do?”
Carter literally chuckles. “You’re so fucking immature, Eric. Just go out there and tell her. Y’all are ridiculous. I swear to God.” I hear the door open and I bolt down the hall toward the front.
So I do the only logical thing I can think of: I snatch my purse from the entryway table, bolt out the front door, and get into my car, zooming off in the early evening Colorado sunset.
Twenty-Three
Eric
The conversation withCarter helped me. He was right. I was being immature and ridiculous. I’m going to tell Christa it was me last Saturday night in the Mile High Rooms and if she hates me, well, then that’s that. But at least I’ll have been honest.
With a resolved attitude and smile, I exit the bedroom where I’d been talking to Carter and scan the main room for Christa. But she’s nowhere.
I approach my sister, who’s talking to Declan. “Hey, where’s Christa?”
She peers around the room. “Uh, I don’t know. We were just chatting on the couch, but she’s obviously not there.”
“Why?” Declan asks. “Do youlikeChrista?”
I bite back a smile. “Yes, dude, IlikeChrista. I need to find her.”
“I think she left,” she says.
“What?”
