the attic.
"I'm grabbing a bite with friends if you're cool."
Dad harrumphs. "I'm cool, sweetie, go be a kid."
If only. I scrutinize him. He's wearing clean clothes from the pile I left in his room the other day, and his hair is combed and less greasy than usual. I hate how my mind becomes suspicious when seeing him this way. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"
His jaw clenches, and he ignores the game. "I'm not drinking, Jessica. I showered, I changed." Shifting on the couch, he leans his forearms on his thighs. "I'm working on a bit of that faith my little girl has in me."
My nose stings with the threat of tears. "Maybe I should stay home?" If he's serious, if he's genuinely making an effort, shouldn't I be here for him? Keep him in line?
He hangs his head. "You should go out, Jessica. I'm good tonight. I feel strong for a change." Clearing his throat, he looks up. "Enjoy your friends while you can."
"I won't be late." I press a kiss to his head. "You'll call me if you need anything?"
I force his reassurance three times before I lock the door behind me and hurry toward Carter and his sexy little Chevelle. He's looking out the driver's side window on his cell and doesn't catch sight of me until I reach for the passenger door. I lift a brow, checking I’m all right to interrupt, and he waves me in.
"I need to go, Mom. I'll see." Carter flashes an exasperated wide-eyed grin as I open the door. "I promise. Bye." I can't stop my smile at the way he sings his farewell. His tone is a little exasperation and a whole lot of heart. He drops his phone in the console and stares.
"Have I told you how much I love this car?" I ask, slipping into the seat and running my fingers over the leather interior. Smooth as butter.
His hand hooks the side of my neck as he leans over the middle console, and his insistent lips swallow my thoughts of leather and shiny cars and, and … everything disappears at the gentle swiftness in which he lays claim to my mouth.
I don't have time to figure out what to do with my hands before Carter's breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead against mine. "You showered," he says, his thumb massaging the curve where my neck, jaw, and ear meet. "You smell so damn sweet. And you look"—he sinks back into his seat, his gaze roving over my body— "you look fucking amazing."
My head spins with giddiness. "I felt like something—" Pretty, demure, sweet? He's seen me in workout clothes and a Bleachers' uniform. "Different. This is my summer concert dress," I say of the eyelet, ruffle-edged, wraparound dress I'm wearing. "Throw on my cowboy boots, and I'm ready to go."
Hunger flashes in Carter's eyes. "I'm gonna need to see that sometime."
I left my boots at the apartment I share with Jules and Katie, but his suggestion has merit. The lewd image of me riding Carter Cooper with my prim white dress and cowboy boots is the perfect motivation for buying a new pair.
Carter smirks. Can he read my racy thoughts? Catching my lip in my teeth, I adjust my dress and pull the seat belt over my chest. Carter's smirk grows wider.
"You keep eyeing me like that, and I'm gonna forget what I'm supposed to ask you and whisk you back to my place instead."
And that's bad, why? My thighs squeeze. Going to his place is a stellar idea, but I bite at his cryptic statement. "I'll take Carter's mysterious questions for two hundred, Alex."
He cracks his neck and faces the windshield. "So, that was my mom on the phone." Yes, I caught that. "She was worried because I ran out on them without a word, and while I asked Chase to cover for me, my mother isn't a fool."
My fingertips pluck at the dress's trim as I wait.
"She's the mothering type. Took in our friends growing up, worries needlessly."
Fantastic. "What are you supposed to ask me, Carter?"
"I told her a friend had an emergency. She doesn't know who you are. I mean, to me … or you know. Well, shit." He mutters.
I hold a sigh. "Your question?"
"She cooked a large meal because I was supposed to be there. She begged me to invite you. To invite my friend." He adds air quotes, his nose twitching.
"Dinner with your parents?"
"And Chase." His fingers clutch his steering wheel.
I plan