Shit, really?
“And Carter was gone for just as long. She came back to the table first and appeared perfectly normal, if a bit buzzed, but she left the table in that state, so that wasn’t unusual. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but at the time, I blamed that on the alcohol,” Sarah says.
How does she remember all of this with such vivid detail?
“Then Carter reappeared, and as he walked past Stella, he—touched her. It was very subtle. If I hadn’t been so suspicious, I would’ve never noticed.”
“How did he touch her?” Eleanor asks, ever the romantic. She’s completely enthralled with this story, by the way.
“As he moved past her to sit on the other side of the table, he slid his index finger across her bare shoulder, toying with the thin strap of her dress for the briefest second. It happened so fast, I almost believed I didn’t see it.”
I wish she still believed that.
“But then I noticed his shirt was buttoned up wrong, and I know for a fact when he first showed up at the restaurant, that shirt he was wearing was buttoned perfectly so…I put two and two together. And figured Stella and Carter hooked up in the bathroom at Tuscany.” The triumphant look on Sarah’s face while I gape at her shows she is firm in her belief.
All of our friends are losing their shit, demanding to know if it’s true. They’re causing such a ruckus, people at the other tables are looking over at us with concern in their eyes, and I tell my friends to shush it.
“That didn’t happen,” I say once they all go silent.
“Bullshit.” Sarah’s voice is measured. Calm. But her eyes are glittering, like she’s some sort of villain in a movie. “His shirt was buttoned wrong, and he was adorably mussed up. Plus, he touched you in the most intimate way, like he already knew your body and couldn’t wait to touch it again.”
“My heart can hardly take this,” Eleanor says, clutching her hands together in front of her chest like she’s some sort of Disney princess.
“Nothing. Happened.” My voice is just as quiet as Sarah’s, and just as firm. I can’t back down. Not now.
“So you didn’t button Carter’s shirt back up wrong after you mauled his chest?” Sarah asks.
I shake my head. Nope, that was on him, the idiot. I didn’t even notice.
Maybe that makes me an idiot too.
“And he didn’t touch you on the shoulder?”
“Yes? No? I don’t know.” I shrug. “It was nothing. I don’t even remember him doing it.”
That last part is the truth. I don’t remember.
“You didn’t kiss him in the bathroom. Let him slip his hand beneath your dress?” Sarah’s brows are so high they’re practically in her hairline, and it’s the phrase slip his hand beneath your dress that floods me with memories.
Carter picking me up as if I weighed nothing and setting me on the edge of the counter. Me being aroused by his easy strength. His mouth on mine, his searching tongue tangling with mine. His equally searching hands. The way he whispered in my ear that I made him fucking crazy. How I trembled when he said that, because no one had ever said such words to me before. Those long fingers of his sliding beneath my skirt, touching the inside of my thigh, knuckles brushing against the front of my panties—
“Your face looks like it’s on fire,” Kelsey calls out, the brat.
They all start making a bunch of noise again—my friends have become completely obnoxious—and when I fold my arms on top of the table and hide my face with them, they all start losing their minds.
We haven’t even had two pitchers of beer yet, so I don’t know why they’re acting this way.
“Come on, guys, stop yelling. We’re embarrassing her,” Amelia says, and I’m grateful that she’s come to my rescue. They are definitely humiliating me, and I sort of want to die. I definitely don’t want to admit that Carter and I hooked up, but it’s too late.
They caught me.
Once they’ve all settled down and I can show my face among my friends once again without total shame, I decide to tell my own story.
“Fine. We hooked up in the bathroom at Tuscany,” I admit.
They all gape at me, their eyes wide, and I even hear a few gasps. Like they can’t believe I held this in for that long.
“And then when everyone left the restaurant, he followed me back to my place and we…” My voice drifts and I press my lips together. Truth be told, it’s been kind of exciting, having this little secret all to myself for the past year.
But it’s also exciting right now, sharing this huge secret with my friends. Letting them know that yep, I slept with my best friend’s brother and it was the best sex of my life. And now I’m living with my best friend’s brother and I’m still attracted to him, yet I can’t go there. Not again. Once was enough.
No it wasn’t.
I tell that stupid voice inside my head to shut the hell up.
“You two had sex?” Eleanor asks, her voice squeaking on the last word. Sometimes I wonder if she’s a virgin, but then she will tell a story about a terrible date and how he couldn’t find most of her female parts and it reminds me that she’s just had bad experiences. The poor thing. “You and Carter?”
I nod, my face going hot all over again.
“Does Caroline know?” Sarah asks.
I shake my head furiously.
Their mouths hang open and it’s almost comical, seeing them all looking at me in the same way. Like they can’t believe it.
Well, girlies, I can’t believe it either.
Eight
“Tell us, Stella. What are you going to do?” Eleanor asks.
The pub is mostly empty, and the only ones who remain from my friend group are Sarah and Eleanor. The evil one and the good one is how I’ve labeled them in my head tonight. I’ve had too much to drink, but I can stagger back home relatively safely, since I live so close. Eleanor and Sarah have already discussed Lyft or Uber arrangements, so they’re fine. They’re also a little drunk, like me.
Though I might be winning in the who drank too much tonight race.
Right before our friends left, I moved on from beer to a couple of tequila shots, which was a huge, massive mistake. Tequila is nasty. It isn’t your friend; its only goal is ultimately to make you feel bad.
“What am I going to do about what? The hangover I’m going to have tomorrow when I have to get up so early for work?” I grab hold of my head with both hands and groan. “It’ll be a rough morning, I’m sure of it.”
“No, not about that.” Eleanor pushes a full glass of water toward me. “Drink more water, that should help.”
“She’s asking about Carter. Specifically you living with Carter,” Sarah says, sending Eleanor a look. The good one nods and the evil one smiles, as if they’re on the same mental plane.
Ughhh, they’re so smug.
“I’m avoiding him.” I love my friends and I love spending time with them, but half the reason I’m here tonight is so I’m not at home. Alone.
With Carter.
Look, I’m a total homebody. I like my little apartment, and I really liked sharing it with Caroline, but that ship has sailed.