“Don’t be,” he says, his sad eyes meeting mine. “I let you go, and now I have to live with it.”
“Carter,” I whisper, walking towards the bed and sitting beside him. “I’ll always treasure the time we spent together as kids. Always. But, that was in the past. We’re not kids anymore.”
“I guess,” he replies. “Although, you were the kid back then, remember? Not me.”
“Whatever,” I say bumping my shoulder with his. I see the corners of his lips turn up. I knew that would have to come up eventually. Some things will never change. “Surely you have someone special back home?” He’s gorgeous. I don’t doubt that the girls fall all over him, just like they used to when he lived here. I’m not sure I want to hear his answer, but I’m in a relationship. It would be selfish of me not to want the same for him.
“No. You know me, I was never one for commitment.” Don’t I know it? It saddens me that he still hasn’t changed after all this time. He’s a good guy deep down. He deserves someone special in his life.
“That’s sad, Carter.”
“That’s my life, I guess,” he says with a shrug. My hand comes up and rubs his back. I’m not sure how much of this is the alcohol talking.
“Tell me about your life. What have you been up to? Where are you living?” It’s something I’ve always wondered, but I also want to change the subject. This conversation is too depressing.
“I live up north, in Newcastle.”
“Really? It’s beautiful up there,” I say. Meg and I went up there for a weekend away a few years back. I can’t believe I was so close to him.
“It is. I have my own business. I’m a tattoo artist.”
“Wow. I’m glad you put your talent to use. You were always so good with your hands.”
“You better believe it, sweetheart,” he says wiggling his eyebrows, making me laugh.
“You’re still full of yourself I see.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t miss my hands on you? I bet lover boy doesn’t make you feel the way I used to.”
“I’m not going there with you, just drop it,” I snap, standing. His words sting because they’re true.
“Because I’m right,” he replies in a cocky tone. He is, but I’d never admit it. Never. My sex life with Mark is pretty bland. It’s rarely spontaneous, and always in a bed. He’s not as adventurous as Carter, but he still satisfies me, so that’s the main thing. Sometimes I wish for more, but great sex isn’t everything, I suppose.
“Can we change the subject, please?” I’m happy to talk about our current lives, but not sex. Mark wouldn’t approve of that, and I’d have to agree. It’s totally inappropriate. Especially given our past.
“Sure,” he says with a sigh. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to since I left?”
“Not much. College, work, that sort of thing.”
“I had a feeling you’d go to college. What did you study?” he asks.
“Veterinary Science. I’m a Veterinarian.”
“Really? Wow. I never knew you wanted to be a Vet.”
“I didn’t, but after Lassie …” I hear my voice crack as I speak.
“Fuck,” he says rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. Poor fucking Larry.” When I look at him, I see tears glisten his eyes. I can’t go over this again. Earlier today was hard enough.
“You hungry?” I ask trying to change the subject. I need to get him out of my room. I can’t seem to function properly with him sitting on my bed.
“I guess. But, not just for food.” His hands reach out for me, but I slap them away.
“Well food is all I’ve got,” I tell him as I turn to leave. When he doesn’t get up, I look at him over my shoulder. “Are you coming or what?”
“Sure,” he says half-heartedly. His disappointment is evident. That’s too bad. It pisses me off that he thinks it’s okay to make advances at me. No matter how much he’s had to drink, he should know better. He needs some food to sober up, and I need distance. Thankfully, he follows me into the kitchen.
“Do you want a toasted cheese sandwich?” I ask.
“Okay, thanks.” When he starts to walk towards me, I point at the table. Distance. I need distance. Having him close is just too much.
“Sit,” I command. A boyish smile appears on his face before he turns and does what I asked. He’s a little unsteady on his feet. It makes me wonder just how much he’s had to drink. “Do you get drunk like this often?”