Noah knocks on my bedroom door and pushes it open enough to stick his head inside. “Food’s here.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I say, not bothering to glance up from the book I’m reading. “I just need to finish up this section.”
“Don’t take too long or your burger will get cold.” His stern voice has me glancing up with a grin on my face.
“Okay, Dad.”
“No problem, honey. Just, whatever you do, don’t call me daddy.” Noah smirks. “That would be a scarring experience for both of us.”
“Ewww! Gross!” I pick up a pillow from my bed and throw it at him. With a chuckle he slams the door closed.
It takes at least ten more minutes for me to highlight the passage I was reading. Even though I have a test coming up in sociology, it’s not the reason I’m dragging my feet.
Carter.
I’ve been doing my best to avoid him since the incident at my aunt’s house. Everything has changed between us and I don’t have a firm handle on it yet. Before, when I’d see him, the attraction was always there humming under the surface, but it was buried deep beneath the aggravation and annoyance. You take away the animosity and what are you left with?
Yeah…just attraction. The kind that buzzes unwantedly through your system before settling uncomfortably in your belly, doing all sorts of disconcerting things to your senses. Making you long for things you should definitely not be thinking about.
It feels safer to hide out in my room.
“Daisy!” Noah bellows at the top of his voice. “Get your ass out here.”
I huff out a breath and slam my book closed. Apparently, avoidance isn’t going to be a possibility with big mouth out there. I guess we’ll have to go with plan B which is hoovering up my food before escaping to my room again.
I straighten my shoulders like I’m going to war and head out to the small dining area attached to the living room. We have a breakfast bar with three stools, which is where we normally eat our meals. With Ashley joining us, there aren’t enough seats. So, the bags of food have been spread out on the table.
Carter, Ashley, and Noah have already dug into their food. I take my time grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before lowering myself onto the only available chair situated between Noah and Carter.
My eyes dart to Carter before I can stop them. The attraction humming between us has only grown stronger over the last few days. As much as I try to ignore it, that feels like a herculean task.
Normally, I can’t wait to dig into a cheeseburger from Devon’s, the best burger joint in town, but with Carter sitting beside me, I’m a nervous, jittery mess. Even though I’m starving, my appetite has vanished. By this point, I would already have devoured half of my sandwich—that’s how good it is. But right now, I don’t feel like I can choke down a single bite. Which is a shame. I stare glumly at my food wondering if I can feign a stomachache, so I can get out of here.
None of this makes sense. I’ve known Carter for years. I’ve always felt a tug of attraction when I’m around him, but it’s never been like this. This feels like being hit over the head with a sledgehammer.
And then hit again.
Stalling, I check under the bun. It’s loaded with the works, minus the onions. I can’t stand onions.
Noah rolls his eyes. “Your dislike of onions is almost pathological.”
I shrug. “To each their own.”
Again, the heavenly aroma hits me. It’s almost a relief when my appetite perks up and takes notice. This thing—whatever it is with Carter—isn’t a big deal. Given enough time, it’ll go away. I just need to be persistent in ignoring the feelings that are trying to take root. Instead of dwelling on Carter, I force him from my head and take a massive bite of meat and bun. Even though I’m not totally feeling it, I manage to plow my way through half of the sandwich.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Carter. After the other day, we’re back to giving one another a wide berth. There’s a weird expression clouding his face, but I’m not sure what to make of it. I need to stop tormenting myself with this and just ignore him.
I clear my throat and focus my attention on Ashley who has surprise-surprise, ordered a salad.
Minus the croutons.
And dressing.
My God, who wants to choke down leafy greens without either of those things? Croutons and dressing are what make salad edible.
Without them, why bother?
Unless Ashley secretly binges when no one is looking, I have no idea how she sustains herself. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her put anything other than a vegetable in her mouth. I think we’ve just solved the riddle as to why she’s so cranky all the time.
The girl is hangry. Someone needs to force feed her a burger, fries, and milkshake.
The image of pinning Ashley to the ground and stuffing food in her piehole probably shouldn’t give me so much pleasure, but it does.
As penance for my nasty thoughts, I try to draw her out. I may not like her, but she’s Noah’s girlfriend and they’ve been going strong now for six months. My hopes of them breaking up have dwindled. “How’s your salad, Ashley?”
She’s barely made a dent in it.
Girls who don’t eat…I’ll never understand them.
When I’m hungry, I eat. Most of the time, I try to make healthy choices. The whole reason I haul my butt out of bed at seven in the morning a couple times a week to go for a three-mile run is because I enjoy mowing a burger every so often, and that is one pleasure I’m unwilling to deny myself.
Noah’s girlfriend eyes my half-demolished burger with an odd mixture of revulsion and desire as I bring it to my lips again. “It’s amazing.”
That answer seems like something of an oversell, but whatever.
She takes her time spearing a cucumber with her fork. “You’re lucky that you don’t have to watch your weight.”
Huh? What does she mean by that?
I frown. “I watch what I eat.” Mostly.
“Sure,” Noah pipes up. “You watch it right before it goes into your mouth.”
I give him a quelling look. “You’re hilarious.” Ignoring my cousin, I turn back to his girlfriend. “Life is about striking a balance and that’s what I try to do.”
Ashley chews the slice of cucumber methodically before swallowing. It’s a laborious process. “I really love that about you.”
My eyes widen.
Holy crap, did I hear her correctly? It almost sounded like she gave me a compliment. I would have never believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own two ears. I’m tempted to ask her to repeat what she just said for the sole purpose of watching the words fall from her lips one more time.
It feels like my entire world is shifting.
First Carter and now Ashley?
Is it possible that I’ve misjudged Noah’s girlfriend?
“Wow, thanks!” It’s teasingly that I quip, “Maybe I should consider a career in modeling.” I’m joking, of course. I’m no skinny-minny. And I’m fine with that. Feeling more at ease, I take another bite of my burger.
She nods enthusiastically. “Plus-sized modeling has become increasingly more popular. If you’re interested, I could pass along my agent’s information.” She eyes me critically. “I think you would do really well with that demographic.”
What the hell did she just say?
I make the mistake of inhaling a sharp breath which lodges the chewed burger in my throat. And then I can’t breathe. I’m choking. Eyes widening, I go into full-fledged panic mode.
I’m going to die.
Death by masticated meat.
My life flashes before my eyes.
I pound my fist on the table and then against my chest, but it does no good. Three sets of eyes stare in horror before Carter comes to life, jumping up from his chair. The motion sends it flying backward. All of a sudden, I’m hauled from the seat. He wraps his arms around my chest and makes a fist, pressing it sharply between my rib cage. He repeats the motion before the food trapped in my throat pops free and onto the table.
My legs give out and I slump in Carter’s arms. They band around me as emotion hits me all at once. I know it’s stupid to say, but Carter just saved my life. I could have choked to death on a Devon’s burger minus the onions and Ashley would have sat there and picked at her salad. Tears well in my eyes before streaking down my face.
Carter presses his mouth against my ear. “Are you okay?”
Unable to speak, I nod.
His voice dips, becoming more of an urgent whisper. One that arrows right to the heart of me. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, Daisy. Not ever.”
I suck in a shaky breath. The guy I tried to poison with laxatives just saved my life. It’s not funny, but it kind of is.
I turn my face until my lips brush the side of his cheek. “Thank you.”
Instead of finding his proximity disconcerting, I want to close my eyes and lean more fully into him.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Why aren’t I fighting this attraction?
“You don’t have to thank me,” his voice turns gruff as his arms tighten around me until their warmth seeps through the cottony material of my shirt. I realize that I don’t want him to let me go. “I meant what I said, I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”
Unsure how to respond, I nod but stay silent.
And just like that, everything changes between us once again.
