No matter how many layers I wear, I can’t seem to get warm enough,” she says through chattering teeth.
She turns around to hang her coat on the small hook behind my door and I notice that she’s trembling.
I walk to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
“What happened?”
She stiffens and slides out from under my touch, and turns to face me. Her expression is unreadable.
“You smell like a brewery,” she remarks in an even voice, as inscrutable as her expression.
“We went to a bar after practice, someone spilled beer on me. I was just about to shower when the bell rang.”
“I’m sorry I showed up like this, so late. But you weren’t answering your phone. And this can’t wait.”
She pulls her phone out of the small purse she’s carrying and hands it to me to an open email.
“My mother came to see me. She claims Drew isn’t my father. So, we need to take DNA tests, you and me.”
I sit, stunned by the sudden turn in the tide with my ears ringing so loudly that it drowns out the silence that stretches between us for a few minutes.
“Is your heart racing, too?” I ask, finally.
She bites her lip and her eyes don’t meet mine. But she nods. “It has been since I found out.”
Her quiet, hesitant tone doesn’t dampen my reaction to her admission.
I feel triumphant, vindicated. “I’ve always known… there’s no way we could be related.” I stand, wrap an arm around her waist and lift her off her feet into a hug.
“Put me down, now,” she says and the anger in her voice is like a slap.
I put her down and take a step back.
Her expression is glacial. “Last time we had a real conversation, you said you didn’t want to see me again,” she says and winces at the memory.
“I didn’t mean that, come on,” I cajole.
She looks even more upset. “But you said it. You invited me to join your family and then you left. Do you know how humiliating that was?” she demands.
“I’m sorry. I know it was shitty. But this changes everything, we can be together,” I plead.
“That, Carter is the problem. It’s not that easy. What’ll you do if the test doesn’t say what we want?”
I let out a long sigh, desperate to fix what I’ve broken.
“I love my career. But I love you more. No matter what those results say, let’s just fuck off and go live there. Let’s agree to be happy together, no matter what.”
She blanches, her eyes wide and impossibly blue against the backdrop of her suddenly very pale face.
“No… we couldn’t. We have families. Careers.”
“You wouldn’t give all of that up to be with me?”
“It’s true. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just being honest,” she says in a frank voice.
“And Carter, even if I was willing to walk away now, there’s not a place in this world we could live in peace if what we hope isn’t true. But, we could live right here and figure out how to be friends.”
The way she says that, as if it’s a suitable substitute for everything else we could be, pisses me off.
“Fuck your friendship. I want to be your lover. I want to be your husband. I want to plant my fucking seed in you and get the chance to watch it grow.”
My bedroom door opens. “I’ve been done with the shower forever, what are you doing out here?” Porsha says.
I freeze and my stomach plummets. Beth straightens and scoots away from me, her eyes widening in pained surprise before she closes them. When she opens them half a second later, the disappointment in them cuts me in half.
Porsha, steps into the living room wrapped in a towel and when she sees Beth she squeals and scurries back into my bedroom
“I forgot she was here-”
“Call Dean. He can tell you where to go for the test.” “She presses the letter into my still outstretched palm, and then stuffs her hands in her pockets as if to make sure I’m not even tempted to try again.
She casts a glance over my shoulder at my open apartment door.
“Have fun.” She says with a cold grimace and then she’s gone.
61
Carter
At Last
“What are you doing here?” my mother asks from behind the chained door of Joe’s studio. I lean back, check the number on the door before I peer at her again.
“What are you doing here?” I raise my eyebrows.
“I’m helping Joe with a project,” she says cagily.