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“Sam and Sophia Bennett. Agnes’s sister is Eileen Bennett.”
“Oh, I know Eileen,” Angela says, and I’m not surprised. She knows most people in town from working at the hospital, or from her moms, who are friendly with just about everyone.
“And I know Sam,” I say. “He’s a good friend of Hunter’s and works on the construction crew with him.”
“That settles it. You’re coming to visit us.” My heart soars at hearing Angela say “us” like that—like we’re together, and like we might still be in the future.
Archie agrees begrudgingly, and gives us his cell phone number, as well as his landline because service on Isle North can be spotty. The landline makes me miss Harborview even more—my house there is in the woods with horrible cell reception. I have Jamie and Hunter’s landline number memorized and have since we were kids.
We finish our dinner happily chatting away. Even though I might miss Harborview, part of me wishes Angela and I could stay here, in this alternate reality where she doesn’t avoid me at all costs and actually seems to like me, forever. As I look at her, laughing across the table at something Archie said, blue eyes blazing and blonde hair like a halo around her head, I promise myself that this isn’t the end.
I won’t let it be.
24
ANGELA
When Carterand I get back to the apartment, we spend the rest of the night watching TV and relaxing in our pajamas. I take a long, scorching shower to decompress, and we’re both pretty wiped from the day on the water. But I’m absolutely positive that won’t matter when my head hits the pillow. Even though I only slept for four hours last night, and am exhausted emotionally and physically from the last few days, I know that I’m going to be kept up.
By thoughts ofhim.
We brush our teeth, again while standing next to one another in the bathroom, and then we climb into bed. Me, on the kingsize bed surrounded by pillows, and Carter on the couch. I feel a twinge of guilt over the fact that he’s taking the couch again, but I’m too tired to really care. The meager hours of sleep I’ll manage to get will dwindle to nothing if I’m on the couch. I need a bed, lots of blankets, and multiple pillows. My moms always joke that I’m basically goldilocks when it comes to sleep—everything needs to be just right. My hair also helps with that image.
I lay down and switch the light off.
“Night,” I tell Carter.
“Goodnight,” he responds, his voice rough and tired, and my breath hitches a bit.
It’s so strange. Being here with him—alone in an apartment together, no one else around us. It’s not like being around him in Harborview at all. At home, we’re always surrounded by our friends and family, and the town and its prying eyes. That’s part of why I never even told Cat about our history. Word spreads in small towns and since moving home I’ve managed to avoid the gossip mill. I’d like to keep it that way.
I roll over onto my back and try to get comfortable.
I also try to ignore the ache that has sprung to life in my core.
It must be due to the fact that I haven’t spent this much time alone with a man in a while. Carter is the only man I’ve ever been serious with, despite all my other failed relationships. I wanted some of the other guys I dated to be serious, and I put my whole heart into making things work, but at the end of the day, none of the men I ever chose wanted me back. Not in any meaningful way, anyway.
So I’ve built up walls, partially because of them, and partially to keep Carter out. But those walls are all crumbling now, brick by brick, surely and swiftly as the waves meet the shore.
Instead of falling asleep, I think about Carter’s hands. How strong they looked hauling the lobster pots earlier. How gently they held my face in the moment before his lips found mine when he kissed me. The brush of his fingers as he passed me in the apartment.
I resist groaning out loud and flip over in bed again to try and get comfy.
“Restless?” Carter asks from the couch.
“A bit. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
“I hadn’t drifted off yet. I want to make sure you can sleep first.”
Fuck.
What thefuckwas I supposed to say to that? How was I supposed to reactnormallyto Carter being so damn considerate?
Apparently my clit knows exactly how to react, though, because it pulses and aches at his words, and a wave of desire washes through me.
“Oh,” I say. Wow, so brilliant Angela. “That’s nice.”
“Do you want to talk until you fall asleep again? Like last night?” He sounds so kind when he says this, like he doesn’t even care that he’s offering to sacrifice his sleep for me.
