Friend Is a Four Letter Word (2 page)

“Alright then,” he says in a tight voice. Carter pulls away from the house just as we see Quinn slip inside the door next to Ben’s towering frame.

My heart feels this funny, strained pressure, and I can’t check my smile before Carter catches it from the corner of his eye.

“Stupid puppy love,” I snarl. Or try to. Hard to be snarly when you’re wearing the biggest shit-eating grin.

“Seriously.” Carter drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I never thought my sister would fall for anyone, but especially not someone like that guy.”

“What’s wrong with Ben?” I demand. I’ve personally always found him pretty damn hot, though I have a feeling Carter wouldn’t be all that happy to know that.

The thought of Carter being jealous about me is pretty damn sexy.

“Ben seems great. He’s just…
nice
.”

“All girls want nice,” I say, thinking about why I was ever interested in Ben in the first place. “I mean, badass sounds exciting. But, trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Really?” Carter pulls his mouth to the side. “I would’ve pegged you as a sucker for a bad boy.”

“Maybe a couple of years ago.” I stop because I don’t want to draw attention to the difference in our ages.

“What are you looking for now?” I can tell that he’s trying hard to keep his voice even.

I shrug. “Maybe I’m not looking anymore. Maybe I’m finally trying to open my eyes to what’s right in front of my face.”

My own bold words make my hands clammy. I watch Carter’s throat work as he swallows hard. I crack the window as we wind through the subdivision and onto the interstate, letting the cool air shock me back to reality.

Carter touches my bare leg, and I don’t flinch away from him. I want more. A chill runs up and down my spine—it has nothing to do with the freezing rain spattering on my overheated skin and everything to do with the way his voice cuts through my thoughts.

“You’re going to freeze, doll.”

It’s cold out, but the cognac I sipped earlier, mixed with the nerves of being this close to Carter, has left me warmer than normal. I watch the water droplets slip in through the crack of the window and try to come up with something to say. Something polished and witty. Carter is, after all, almost out of college. While I may be eighteen, I’m still a senior in high school for a few more months. That’s got to be an automatic strike against me, right?

“What do you normally do on the weekends?” Carter asks before I’m able to come up with anything that will wow him.

Drink heavily. Hook up with random guys.

“Not much,” I say, swallowing the ugly truth. “Shop. Movies. How about you?”

“Study,” he says, shrugging. He looks at me from the corner of his eye and gives me an adorable grin. “Surf.”

I want to ask if there’s a girl who he takes surfing with him, but, to be honest, it doesn’t really matter to me one way or another. He’s here with me now, and I doubt either one of us is looking for anything more than whatever sexy fun tonight may bring.

I feel like we’re both using this small talk to hold back any real answers. I hardly know Carter—I’d only run into him a few times before he moved away for college.

He and I definitely aren’t close enough to share our real selves, even if it is Christmas Eve and there’s magic in the air and all of that other bullshit. There will be no unwrapping of pretty layers to reveal what’s under the surface—unless he’s game for stripping layers of clothing.

Otherwise, we’ll stay tied up in our neat little bows tonight.

Because
that
is the type of girl I am.

To drive that point home, I reach across the seat and trace a line up his arm, across his collarbone, and flash a playful grin when he sucks in a quick breath through his teeth.

He clears his throat, and I watch the way his mouth works from side to side before he gets the next words out. “So, there’s this place over off of Tenth. We could just pull in there and hang if you want?”

“Sure,” I say, dragging my fingertip along the rough stubble on his jaw.

We drive a bit more and then pull off to a small lookout point. It’s nothing but dirt and rocks—it’s pretty much bare—but it’s a quiet, private place, so the lack of ambiance is okay.

Besides, its bareness means I don’t have to pretend to be anything that I’m not in order to fit in, and that’s all I’m looking for right now.

“Is this alright?” he asks, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to face me. The scenery may not be very inspiring, but that’s not exactly a problem when I have Carter’s serious, sexy eyes to focus on. Especially when they’re dark with a want I’ve been hoping to see all night.

“This is perfect.” I flash him a quick smile before I reach inside the glove box and pull out the small silver flask I always keep with me.

“Aren’t you a little young for that?” Carter jokes as I take a fiery hot sip and let that first buzz work through my veins.

“Maybe,” I say with a shrug.

“I could turn the car back on if you’re cold,” he offers.

“I’m not exactly drinking to stay warm.” That’s not entirely true. Now that he mentions it, it is pretty frosty in here. “Anyway, I probably only had a quarter tank when we started this whole adventure.”

“I could’ve stopped for gas.” His eyes are trained on my flask, and I take another swig, just to be defiant. Just to annoy him.

He doesn’t look annoyed. His lips tug down and his eyes shift to the side, like he’s remembering something sad. “It’s no big deal,” I say, and, of course, he thinks I mean about the gas when it’s really my shitty way of saying that whatever he’s going through is going to be okay.

Like I have room to talk. I’m the queen of fucking up and making things not okay. Even okay things. I’m really good at making a mess of shit. I wish I had the guts to ask him what the hell made him go into depressed mode so quick.

“You don’t have to drink. If you’re feeling shitty—”

“Who said I’m feeling shitty?” I demand. “It’s Christmas Eve. I’m young, I’m free. I’m just celebrating a little. Jesus.”

“I was just saying—we could talk. I could listen. If you need.” He stares out the windshield, and I shake a little because I realize he would listen. I could talk to him. And I could ask him what he was so worried about. “If that’s why you’re drinking. I mean, I know what it’s like to not have anyone who gets it, to feel like you just want to check out for a little while. But I also know that doesn’t wind up fixing shit. I’d be happy to listen.”

I could open up to him. He’s not hinting or playing games, and he’s the first guy who hasn’t done those things with me. I could try to see if he would understand all the crap that’s been eating at me lately.

If I had the guts. If I didn’t mind letting him see beneath the facade I keep up around everyone in my life. If I wasn’t so damn scared.

Instead, I take another long, numbing swig.

“You know what? I
do
feel a little cold.” I fumble around on the floor for a sweater. Even though the rain has let up, it’s still misty and the air has a bite to it. Of course, getting busy with Carter would also edge out the chill, but I’m not sure if this is going where I think it’s going. “Wait, is this going to be one of those,
‘when you’re in college you’ll understand how the world is’
lectures?”

Carter holds his hands up surrender style, and his voice goes cool. “No lectures from me.”

I’m not a dumb girl by any means, and I know that flames of lust can cool quickly. Which is, I guess, what’s happening with Carter and me.

It’s fine. Disappointing, but, I’m used to that. And it’s safer. He might actually get me to share stuff with him that I’m not really ready to share, and that would be asking for heartache later on. If this isn’t going to be a simple hook-up, it’s better to know that now.

“Good,” I say, taking another generous swig from my flask and throwing my shoulder against the door to open it. I definitely need some fresh air to clear my mind. “Let’s walk around a bit.”

Carter gets out of the car, but doesn’t follow me as I pace back and forth. It’s a nervous habit, one I haven’t yet been able to break. Standing still—feeling stagnant—it’s my worst fear.

“Where’s the race?” Carter asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the trunk. His dark eyes are trained on me as I walk the same line over and over.

“Ha,” I say. I change the subject as fast as I possibly can. “Aren’t you almost finished with school? What are you doing after?” I ask in between sips from the flask. The warm liquid bubbles down my throat, heating my blood in a way the walk just couldn’t.

“I’ve got a job lined up, thanks to my dad,” he says, the words grinding out. He tips his head back to look at the sky and pulls his mouth into a tight line.

I pause to watch him, his long body so damn tense. I should offer him my flask because, even though he seemed so damn sure that talking would solve things, I happen to know something harder can take the edge right off. Even if it is a Band-Aid fix.

“That’s a good thing, right?” I ask, watching the way his eyes narrow at my question.

“It is… and it isn’t. My dad’s connections already got me my internship, they’re basically handing me the job because of him, too. Who wants to get their first job because someone handed it to them, you know?” Carter rubs his palm along his stubbly cheek. Something I find myself wanting to do for him. To feel that roughness on my skin. “I want to prove to everyone who doubted me that I can do this. That I’m not just some screw-up with connections.”

“Right,” I agree. Though I have no idea how that feels. I’ve never really done anything on my own. My parents do everything for me, they’re good to me and provide for all my needs. Any problems I have in my life are byproducts of my own little stereotypical acts of rebellion.

Sadly, I’m a cliché and I know it. I don’t love thinking about that, so I keep walking a trench into the gravel-pitted dirt.

If Carter would just kiss me, I wouldn’t have to fill my need to move with pacing.

“How long have you and Quinn been friends?” Carter asks, subject hopping again. “I haven’t heard her talk about you before.”

I take a sip from the flask, then offer it to Carter before I answer. “Are you sure you don’t want some? We can talk
and
drink. And you were right. It really does help with the cold.”

“No thanks.” He sticks his hands deep in his pockets. I might be edgy, but I get the vibe he seriously disapproves of me and my liquor guzzling habits. I take an exaggerated sip and he raises an eyebrow before saying, “I’m driving.”

I feel a little blush on my face. Of course. Designated driver and all that. I try to jump back into our stilted conversation. “Friends? Quinn and I… I guess we’re
new
friends,” I say, unable to articulate the weirdness of our relationship.

“Really? That’s surprising. You guys were pretty rough on each other back there in the car. I usually only get away with talking crap like that with my oldest friends.” The way he looks at me shifts suddenly, like he’s waiting impatiently on my answer, like he actually gives a crap about what I’m going to say.

I remind myself it’s just more of the protective brother vibe on his part. Of course he wants to know more about his sister’s bad influence ‘friend.’

“I wasn’t serious about anything I said to her… I mean, the mean stuff—that was just a joke. It’s what we do.” I stop pacing and lean on the trunk of my car, a few inches away from him. I’m so close to him, I can smell the clean, sharp scent of his aftershave. “The truth is—”

I stop and stare up at the sky. The rain clouds have moved on, revealing a sprinkling of stars. It’s got to officially be Christmas by now. And the fact that we’re both here—relative strangers together on what is supposed to be a night shared with the people closest to you—makes my throat pinch tight and my eyes water.

“The truth is what?” Carter asks, but his voice is different. I can’t pretend this has to do with his obligation to Quinn as her brother, because the way he asks, the way he looks at me, lets me know I’m the one he’s thinking about right now. He reaches over and brushes the hair from my face. “Hey, what is it?” He tips my chin so that I’m looking at him.

I swallow hard and close my eyes, not wanting to untie the neat bow I have tied tight around my life and show any ounce of vulnerability. But, even though I know it’s a bad idea, I tell him anyway.

“The truth is that I wish I were more like Quinn.”

His lips curl into a slow smile that builds as I hold my breath, waiting on his next words. When he finally says them, my heart stops along with my lungs.

“I don’t.”

I shake my off the fluttery, warm feeling that floods me. I’m obviously in a weird place, reading too much into everything tonight. I’m totally blaming this on watching Quinn follow her heart and all that crap.

I stumble over words trying to explain myself and ignore the way his simple statement undid me.

“I mean how unapologetic she is about who she is. What she stands for. There’s no gray area with Quinn. There’s no pretense,” I say, breathing normally and even managing a nonchalant eyeroll.