“This week’s challenge is to set goals for ourselves. I think we should own who we are now and set a goal for who we want to be at the end of this program.”
“I’m sure Carter wants to be a manlier version of Cher, don’t you?” Hollyn asks jokingly, lightening the mood.
Glancing up, he replies sarcastically, “I really do want to believe in life after love.”
“Yeah, that will be the day. I’ve worked with you for a few years now, you’re not the love kind of guy.”
“Love doesn’t exist.” Carter picks up his pen off the ground and starts twirling it again in between his fingers.
“You don’t believe in love?” Daisy asks, looking like someone just stole her puppy. This sweet girl.
He spares her a glance and shakes his head. “Hard to believe in love when you’ve never really known what it is.”
The fun banter quickly dies off, and we’re left with feeling awkward once again. “Uh, we kind of got off topic here.”
“Because this group stuff is bullshit.” Carter shifts in his seat, pushing down on his jeans. “Do you really think this is going to help you? Talking about your feelings?”
“It’s better than bottling it up,” Daisy says.
“She’s right. I don’t think this program is meant to cure you week by week like Marleen said. It’s supposed to present you with different challenges to break free of the monotony you’re living in. It challenges you to try new things, to actually talk when you don’t want to.”
“Which is all the time,” Carter says under his breath.
“Then just leave,” Hollyn counters. “If you don’t like it, leave. You’re bringing down the group, Carter.”
An icy stare meets Hollyn, and I watch as she doesn’t back down. “You know I can’t fucking do that, Hollyn. You out of everyone should know I can’t just leave.”
“Pay the fee, then, if you’re that miserable.”
“Yeah? With what money?” Carter shoots back, looking more alive than ever. And it clicks. Hollyn is pushing his buttons to get him to talk more. Smart, ballsy woman. “It’s hard to pay for anything when your ex-girlfriend stole all your money.”
The second his words leave his mouth you can tell he regrets saying anything. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he blows out a long breath. “Fuck it. Give me a piece of paper so I can write my damn letter and get the hell out of here.”
“Is that what you meant about life emasculating you?” Daisy asks out of pure curiosity.
“I didn’t ask you to psycho-analyze me, Snowflake, so don’t fucking try.”
“I wasn’t . . .” She pauses, her eyes forming tears, a slight shake to her head. I’m about to speak up when Daisy flees her chair and walks briskly over to the hall where the bathrooms are.
“Wow, great job, Carter. You made the innocent one cry.” Hollyn stands up and starts walking toward the bathroom.
Regret fills Carter’s face and when I think he’s going to leave, he stands and chases down Hollyn, sending her back in my direction.
Furious, she sits down and crosses her arms over her chest. “He’s such an asshole.”
“He’s hurting too,” I say, trying to see it from both sides.
“You’re not seriously defending him, are you?”
“I’m looking at the situation from all angles.” I hold up my hands in defense.
“Creative listening, I know.” She smiles, a smile that eases the tension in my shoulders.
“Ah, so you do remember how to smile. I was thinking for a second you forgot.”
“What does that mean?” she asks.
“It means you’ve been weird all meeting. Are you regretting our little pussy-petting rendezvous? Because I sure as hell don’t regret it.”
Scanning the room for listeners, Hollyn leans forward. “Say that a little louder, why don’t you?”
A chuckle rumbles from my chest. “Hey, I have nothing to hide. It was a good time. I felt comfortable talking to you.” The admission feels a little awkward, a little clumsy, but it needed to be said. I feel a connection with Hollyn, and I want it to continue to grow. For some reason, I can see a key to happiness within her. I can see her pain helping my pain.
Looking me up and down, a smirk caressing her beautiful lips, she says, “I had a nice time as well.”
For a moment, we sit there, smiling at each other, soaking in the atmosphere. What is she thinking? Does she feel the same connection I feel between us? I sure as hell hope so.
“This is my last meeting for a bit, at least in person,” I say, breaking the silence.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Spring training. I have to report soon to Arizona.”
“Oh, that’s right. I guess I forget you’re a professional baseball player.” Her cheeks redden. “Uh, so what are you going to do about the meetings?”
“FaceTime in. You guys can sit me in the chair, my face on an iPad. I’ve already talked to Marleen about it.”
“So we’ll only have iPad Jace.” Her negative response makes me happy for some reason. I want her to be disappointed to not see me in person.
“Not for long. And I’ve worked it out that I can come back a few times as well. Believe me, the front office is being very flexible with me right now.”
“I can imagine they are, they want their star player healthy and happy.”
A laugh pops out of me. “I wouldn’t say star player.”
“Rookie of the Year with a batting average that rated second in the National League, pretty sure you’re their star player.” Her hair falls to the side, vibrant red strands caressing her cheek, emphasizing the light spattering of freckles on her cheeks.
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Reading up on me?”
She shrugs, a light blush still staining her cheeks. “I used to be a huge sports fan, and I can’t help but read about my teams on occasion.”
“Used to be?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
All she has to say is one word for me to understand. “Eric.”
“Fair enough.” I lean forward, clasp my hands together, and look at her from under my bill. “But we’re going to have to fix that.” With a wicked smile, I meet her eyes, and fuck me, they’re sparkling right back at me.
CARTER
You know that feeling you get when anger eclipses you and you can’t think of anything else to do besides slamming your fist through a wall? That’s where I am.
Daisy, fucking Snowflake. She gets under my skin, buries herself deep within, and shows no plans on leaving.
At first, when I was texting her, I was trying to be nice. It seemed like she wanted someone to talk to, and hell, I kind of wanted someone to talk to as well. She fascinates me. But then I took it a step further and baked with her.
All innocent, right? Wrong.
I’m not an idiot, I saw the way she was looking at me, I caught her staring every once in a while, caught the way her eyes would roam my body.