Reagan

Someone shook my shoulder. I slapped the hand away and curled up on my side. Only I then registered the sound of my alarm blaring. I shot up, only to hit something on the way up, slamming my head against something hard.

“Ouch,” I cried, and pried my eyes open to see Carter standing over me holding his chin. His mouth moved to shape words, but I couldn’t hear any of it. “What?” I yelled. Reaching over, I then pressed the button to stop my alarm. My ears rang in the silence.

Rubbing my eyes, then my forehead, I blinked a few times before my eyes sprang wide.

Carter was standing beside my bed.

Carter was standing beside my bed in nothing but running shorts.

Had my wet dream come true?

I rubbed at my eyes again.

He was still there.

I popped my mouth closed in case I started drooling over his body. It was like he’d been carved out of stone. A rock-hard chest and stomach of muscles galore.

“You okay?” he asked.

I blinked slowly as I watched his stomach muscles work.

“Reagan?”

“So pretty,” I mumbled to myself, and started to reach out for just one touch.

Just one.

His chuckle was what brought me back. I quickly slapped my hands on the bed, and under my thighs so I wouldn’t be tempted to grope him.

“Is your head okay?” he asked.

I nodded, my gaze not wavering from his body.

“Is your alarm usually that loud?”

I nodded.

“You’re sweaty,” I commented, watching a droplet slide down his pec to his stomach and disappear beneath his shorts. I wanted to pull his shorts out so I could see where that droplet stopped.

“Yeah, I’ve just come back from a run when I heard your alarm. Was worried when it didn’t switch off. Had to check.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Jesus, you’re cute.”

That had my head snapping up to meet his amused gaze. “What?”

He smiled, small crinkles appearing next to his eyes; then he shook his head. “Nothing. So, you’re not a morning person.”

I stretched. “Nope, sorry. I should have warned you about the alarm.”

“It’s all right, now I know. If I hear it still going when I come in from my morning runs, I’ll help wake you.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how he’d wake me—with his hands, his body, his mouth—but I stopped myself. I was learning.

“Um, okay, ah, thanks.”

“Cute.”

“Sorry?” I asked again, because I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right. Had he really called me cute?

“Nothing.” He smirked. “I’ll get coffee on. You want the first shower?”

“Yes?”

His smirk morphed into a full-blown grin, teeth showing and all.

Wow. What a nice way to wake up.

“All right, I’ll leave you to it.” He started for the door before I called him. He turned.

“Is your chin okay?”

His eyes warmed. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to move faster next time.” He tapped the doorway twice before leaving.

I could so get used to waking up to sweaty Carter each morning. At least I wouldn’t have to fake deep sleeping. Though, even if I didn’t have to, I probably still would so I could see that body again and again.

As I walked into the kitchen after my shower and getting ready for study group, I paused in the doorway. I should have looked through the window from the kitchen into the living room to prepare myself. But I didn’t. And seeing Carter’s half-naked body again did things to my belly and below.

“Shower. You can have one and get dressed. You’ve got your game to get to.” Not that I wanted him to, but I hoped my brain would work more without the distraction.

He lifted his coffee cup to his lips, but I caught his lips twitching before he took a sip.

“Thanks.” He picked up another mug and walked my way. My nipples hardened with every step he took. “White with one, right?” He handed me the mug.

“Yes,” I whispered. When I grabbed the mug, my eyes had the chance to glance down his body. I locked my legs tight when I noticed some hardness going on in his shorts.

Whoa. He was packing a big… package.

My cheeks heated. I shifted my gaze to my drink. My hands shook as I lifted the mug to my lips and drank.

“You okay?” he asked, and his voice was light, amused.

“Fine,” I chirped. “Good.” I nodded, and took another gulp. “Ah, morning.”

He laughed, and it was both deep and amazing. “Morning. I’m going to hit the shower.”

“Good—I mean, okay, enjoy.”

Another chuckle followed. “I will.” He moved around me. “Oh, I nearly forgot, I might not see you before you go. Needed to let you know we’re going to my parents’ house for dinner tonight.”

I froze.

Carter started whistling as he walked off.

“Carter!” I yelled, ready to tell him I had mono.

“See you later,” he called back, and then I heard the bathroom door close.

Oh God.

I was going to die.

After my day at the library, I walked home planning my fake illness. I put my hate for lying aside. Like I usually did when I knew nothing good could come of situations I was forced into. Besides, it was a little one to get me out of something that could save Carter and myself from embarrassment. Carter wouldn’t be back yet, which would give me time to press a heat pack against my face and mix up a concoction to pour into the toilet—once he got home—so I could pretend I was vomiting. My acting skills were passable, and I was confident I could belt out a few loud heaves and groans.

Unfortunately, as I grew closer to home, I spotted Carter’s truck parked in the driveway.

“Shit,” I bit out. Think, Reagan, think.

There wasn’t a chance I was going to his parents’ place tonight. Throughout the day, I’d broken out in sweats at random times when I thought about going and making a fool of myself. His family would think I was a mental case and in turn, would warn Carter to run as far away from me as he could. I was getting used to having Carter in my life. In fact, I liked having him in my life and my house. I didn’t want to give him up.

Hopping on one foot, I slipped my shoe off the other and started to limp toward the house, up the pathway, and to the front door.

A sprained ankle was all I could think of in my time of panic. I just prayed it would be enough to get me out of dinner.

The door was already unlocked, so I opened it and limped in. “Oh, ow, that hurt,” I said loudly.

“Reagan, are you okay?” Carter called from the kitchen. I limped my way in there, to find him leaning his butt against the kitchen counter. At least he was dressed in jeans and a tee so I wouldn’t be distracted.

“Hey, I think I sprained my ankle.”

“Really?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, on the walk home. Hey, um, what are you doing home? I thought you had meetings after your game? How did you go anyway?”

“We won.” He grinned, and added, “And I got out of the interviews early. Do you want me to look at your ankle?”

“No! Ah, thanks though, I think I just have to rest it. But I don’t think I can go tonight. Should stay off it and all that.”

“Hmm.”

“So, pass on my apologies.” Turning, I moaned and limped my way into the living room and sat on the couch, placing my shoe on the floor.

Carter followed.

“Reagan?” he said, stopping at the end of the couch.

I winced and lifted my foot up onto the coffee table. “Yes?”

His lips twitched. “You’re going to dinner.”

“But… my foot.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“You can’t. I’m too heavy.”

His eyes narrowed. “Never say that again,” he growled out from the back of his throat.

Oh, wow.

“O-okay.”

“Good.”

“Still, you can’t carry me into your parents’ place. It would be just weird.”

He huffed out a breath. “Do you know I had an enlightening call just before?”

“Really? From who?”

His fingers played with the arm on the couch as he stared down at me. “Your dad.”

Damn.

“So my dad’s calling you now.”

“Yep.” He grinned.

I scowled at him. “And what did he have to say that was so enlightening?”

“I mentioned about dinner, and my concerns about you being too scared to go.”

How did he know me so well already?

The ass.

“And?”

“School debate team? School dance? Your cousin’s wedding? Dinner with the Morrisons? When work has their swimming carnivals? Any of them ring any bells?”

That asshole father of mine sold me out.

I stood abruptly, with my hands on my hips and leaned toward Carter. “The debate team did so much better when I wasn’t there fumbling through things. I couldn’t dance to save my life, so there was no way I was going to that school one. My cousin, who’s a second cousin really, is a pecker head. He tried to shove his hand down my bra one day. I would have drunk too much to get through the night and then probably would have told his wife exactly what I thought of him. Dinner with the Morrisons, our old neighbors who were nudists… no, just no. And the swimming carnivals, well, it’s in the heart of summer, and the teachers don’t get to take a dip, only the students, so why would I want to go?”

“And my parents?”

“I’ll make a fool out of you and me by saying or doing something.” I thinned my lips. The bastard caught me on a roll, and I just blurted that out. “Damn it.” I stomped my foot.

He gazed down, and then back up with a smug smile on his face. “Your foot seems to be better. Fancy that.”

“You… I….” I threw my hands up in the air and growled under my breath. I picked up my shoe, put it on, and stomped my way to the front door. “Fine, you want me to go, I’ll go, but don’t blame me when your mom thinks you’ve lost the plot for having me in your life.”

Still wearing a smile that I wanted to smack off his face, he came toward me. Picking up his phone, wallet, and keys from the stand near the door, he swiftly touched his lips to my cheek and said, “You have nothing to worry about. She’ll love you.”

I didn’t know what to say. Actually, I couldn’t say anything because I was still focusing on how his lips felt against my skin. How his kiss sent my belly dipping, my skin tingling, and my panties melting.

He walked out the door and started down the path, only to look back and see I was still in the same spot inside the front door. Rolling his eyes, he made his way back, took my hand in his and tugged me out the door, locking it before he led me to the side where his truck was parked.

If the age-old “don’t get in cars with strangers” would have worked, I’d have tried it, but I had the feeling nothing I did or said would matter. Carter wanted me to go to his parents’ for dinner, so I was. Though, I supposed it was fair. They should meet the person he was living with.

Gasping, I turned to him as he climbed into the driver’s side. “Tell me you’ve told them you’re living at my home.”

He paused.

And that was all I needed.

Unclicking my seat belt, I nearly made it out of the car when the back of my shirt was snatched.

Laughing, he said, “Relax. They won’t care. Actually, they’ll like the idea I’m no longer living in a hotel.”

With a sigh, I wiggled back in the seat and said, “They’d better or you’ll pay.”