“How do you know he’s confused?”
Carter smiled with the right corner of his mouth. A knowing look shimmered across his high cheekbones. “A hunch.” He looked at the text. He scratched at his jaw. “He’s … ‘hollow.’ He’s empty without her.”
His blue gaze lifted from Hemingway’s words. What Kat saw there made her heart almost stop.
Usually, when Carter’s eyes were on her, Kat saw raw sex and desire. It always tinged his irises, making them a cloudless blue. That was still there, but more prevalent than that was a remorseful haze surrounding every inch of his pupils. It was so clear, Kat knew without his saying a word how he was feeling. He was sorry. And she felt the exact same way.
She had no idea how long they sat—looking at each other, lost in each other—and only returned to where she was when Carter touched her. His palm was warm and comfortable on the back of her hand, and the hot fizz of energy that was always present between them breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed like forever since he’d touched her.
Carter edged forward. “Peaches,” he said, allowing his thumb to smooth its way across her skin. He kept his eyes on the table where their hands joined. His hands felt so good. Fleetingly, her mind began to imagine how they would feel on other parts of her.
Her attraction to Carter was slowly turning into something more, something scary and irrevocable. She was tired of denying it, of course, but she still had to tread a careful path.
Carter’s hand squeezed hers. “About Saturday—”
“It’s fine.”
“No,” he retorted firmly. “It’s not. It was— I mean, yeah, the kiss was …” He raised his eyebrows. “Look, whatever you think of me, I didn’t kiss you to be a dick. Honestly.”
“I know, I—”
“The thing is.” He paused, his brows almost meeting in the middle. “The thing is, I might not have flowery fucking words or anything, but I’m … I’m serious about you.”
Dizziness accosted Kat, making her grip on Carter’s hand tighten.
“I know it’s not the perfect situation.” He pointed to himself. “I’m just a … and you’re … but, fuck, I’m happy to have anything you’re willing to give me at this point. Just sitting here with you would be enough.”
The sincerity of his words made Kat want to fall into his arms and never leave them. Unable to articulate how hard her heart was beating, she simply uttered, “Okay.”
Carter appeared satisfied with her answer. “Okay?”
She smiled.
“Are we good?” he asked quietly, watching her carefully.
Kat cleared her throat. “We’re good.”
Carter exhaled, seemingly torn. “I’m glad, but I need you to understand something, Peaches.” He licked his lips. “I’m not sorry, and I’d do it again in a fucking heartbeat.”
Oh God.
Realizing she was staring and barely breathing, Kat dragged her eyes from Carter and quickly pulled a folder full of papers from her bag. Change the subject. Change the subject …
“Do you want these now?” She placed them on the table.
Carter scowled. “And what are ‘these’?” He slid the folder toward himself.
“Your resources for next week.”
Carter blinked, confused.
“I’m going away,” Kat clarified. “With my family, to Washington, DC.” She let her fingertips dance along the edging of the table. “It’s the anniversary of my father’s … We do it every year. I’ll be out of town from Sunday to Sunday.”
Carter’s face changed imperceptibly. He didn’t look happy. After scratching the back of his neck, he slid his hands into his pockets. “Um, yeah, okay.” The frown was tight above the bridge of his nose.
“Just do what you can,” Kat encouraged. “I’ve assigned you some more reading and questions, and we need to talk about an assessment paper …”
She trailed off when Carter’s dark, somber gaze met hers.
“Text me,” she said without thinking. “Or call me if you need any help. Don’t hesitate. I— Yeah, just, just call me.”
“I will.”
Kat tried to smile but it was harder work than she expected. Leaving to be with her family at this time of the year was one thing; leaving Carter for a whole week was another. She was suddenly very hollow indeed.
*
Carter was edgy: edgy and fucking miserable, to be quite honest, despite it being Saturday night.
He took a huge gulp from the fifth bottle of Corona placed in his hand by Max and rubbed a finger along his eyebrow. Seriously, seven days. How hard could it be? He only saw his Peaches three times a week anyway, so technically it was only six hours he’d be missing.
Big. Deal.
He sighed. Yeah, it was a big deal. They’d had their last session a day ago and already he could feel an uncomfortable sensation of wanting and emptiness curl within his stomach at the thought of not seeing her.
Dammit.
Paul, Max’s head mechanic from the body shop, knocked Carter’s elbow, which was resting on the bar.
“What’s up?” he asked above the music. “You look like someone pissed on Kala.”