Again Page 13

  It was the first time I’d been off campus since I arrived at Hudson. Snow-covered trees lined the highway like vanilla ice cream cones. Kingston, well anywhere, was so much more wooded than the city. So much more open, but not more alive. No place else had the energy of New York, but trying to sustain that energy, trying to stay one step ahead of it, could destroy you.

  I shook my head. I could blame anything on my past, but the choice was always mine. Just like the choice to come with Carter tonight had been.

  For once, I didn’t think I would regret it.

  He sat back in the seat, his hands soft on the wheel. He knew exactly where we were going, had been there so many times it was automatic.

  Where the hell was he taking me?

  If it were anyone else I’d be freaked out, but Carter had proven himself to be the antithesis of creepy, regardless of the nickname Steph and Alex had given him. He could have slept with me and he didn’t. That said something about him.

  Of course, sitting alone in a car with him, I realized I knew very little. Every conversation so far had been about me or about Professor Parker’s class. I knew he didn’t drink because of his freshman year, but that was it.

  Well, and that his father was an asshole and a lawyer. This appeared to be a pattern.

  “So what are you going to do after graduation?” I asked.

  “You sound like my parents.” He smiled, and shook his head.

  I guess I kind of did. At least I sounded like an adult which, compared to him, I was. Crap, I’d actually forgotten all about that.

  “Sorry, I was trying to make conversation,” I mumbled. Ugh, this was the part of dating I hated. Maybe it was why I’d stayed with David for as long as I had, so I didn’t have to dance this awkward dance.

  “No, it’s fine,” he said, waving my apology away, “I’m not sure yet. I just know I’m getting the hell out of Kingston.”

  “You don’t like it here?” I asked. It was something I’d sensed, an uncomfortableness he covered up with a smile, with a laugh, with his RA polo.

  He didn’t turn to me, but there was something coming off of him, a chill colder than the wind outside. “No,” he said, “I haven’t for a while.”

  “How come you didn’t transfer, then?”

  I’d given in to defeat my real freshman year and, from the small piece Carter had given me of his past, he hadn’t. I wanted to know why. Not from Alex and Steph, but from him. I wanted to know what happened. I wondered what it was like to stare something down day after day instead of hide from it, like the laughing freshman girls.

  Like I guess I was finally trying to do with Carter and my red sweater.

  “I finish what I start,” he said, watching the road, “that’s the only thing my father taught me that I follow. Otherwise you keep running from things.”

  I nodded, words not coming. My mother had asked for something similar from me, but instead of scaring it into me like Carter’s father had, or even asking me why I always seemed to give up, she just called me a quitter my whole life.

  Eventually, that was what I became. It’s a lot easier to achieve someone’s lowered expectations of you, especially when it doesn’t require sacrificing anything of yourself.

  “I gave up on my first freshman year,” I said, giving him a glimmer of my truth. It was terrifying and at the same time freeing, the way reality is. It was how I felt being with Carter. There was very little I could do to hide who I was—he got right to the center of me.

  “What do you mean, first?” he asked.

  “Oh,” I replied, my stomach sinking. I’d wanted to tell him something, but I had said too much. I paused, thinking quickly, “I mean how I left my last school.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Your past doesn’t make you who you are, it’s your future,” I said. I had been trying so hard to believe it. Words were power. Maybe I could make it true.

  “Way to dodge my question, Confucius,” he said. One corner of his mouth was pulled into a slight smile, but his eyes were on the road.

  I took a breath, sweat bloomed on my skin. “Okay, I left for the same reason I’m not out with Steph and Alex,” I admitted.

  “Then it’s good you’re here with me now,” he said, hitting me with his gaze.

  My breath caught, conscious only of the intensity in his eyes. It was like they were saying it’s good I’m here with you now, too.

  We pulled in at a squat little house painted light blue, a wood sign posted above the front door read SPCA of Greater Kingston.

  “This is your surprise?” I asked, unable to hide the confusion in my voice.

  “Guess I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it. There’s just no one else who can get out in this weather,” he said as explanation. He shut off the car. We sat there, the engine ticking, the snow coming down.

  “They need me,” he said, his eyes soft.

  I nodded and took off my seatbelt. Old Kate would have probably told Carter to hurry the hell up because she was hungry, but I liked being with someone who actually wanted to be needed.

  I liked being the person he wanted to be with.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Carter

  I unlocked the front door and let Kate in. The dogs barked from their pens in the back, the cats mewled from their cages. I flicked on the light and dropped my keys on the vacant reception desk. I went back to the door to lock it, probably not necessary, but it was habit.

  Not like anyone was going to barge in, especially not on a night like tonight, and it wasn’t like people stole animals from the SPCA on a normal night. That would be a good problem.

  “What do we need to do?” Kate asked, hanging her coat on the rack.

  I loved her chosen question, not why are we here, or how long is this going to take, but what do we need to do?

  She wasn’t like other girls. Girls who acted like life, like everyone, owed them something. Kate was the opposite. She acted like she was the one who was always trying to pay something back.

  Kind of like me.

  “Feed them, clean a little bit,” I said, walking toward the cat cages, “it shouldn’t take long.”

  She pushed her nose up to a white longhair kitten, his fur as soft as the snow outside. She touched the cage tenderly, the tips of her fingers lingered there, her braid filled with snowflakes like tiny ice diamonds.

  “Are we allowed to cuddle them too?” she turned to me, her brown eyes wide in anticipation.

  “Cuddling is mandatory.” I came up behind her to pull the little guy out and put him into her waiting hands.

  “He’s so small,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She brought him in to her, nuzzled the top of his head with her chin.

  I heard him start to purr. I couldn’t help but remember the thrum inside me when I touched her there, saw her there. If I had the ability I probably would have purred too.

  “They get dropped off here at all ages, even this little.”

  “Even that big,” she said, her face falling as she noticed an elderly calico down the row.

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “with animals, need doesn’t have an ending.”

  “Just like people,” she said, looking away.

  I was glad she did. I wouldn’t have been able to hide my compassion. I wasn’t sure how she seemed to always know what I was thinking. My only guess was that she was thinking the same thing.

  She put her lips to the kitten’s soft white fur. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Since my freshman year. I started volunteering when I was in my frat.” I stopped. I cleared my throat and recalibrated. “It’s been three years now.”

  I rubbed the kitten under his chin.

  “Wow,” she said, “and they don’t pay you?” Maybe she’d seen something in my eyes because, thankfully, her follow up question had nothing to do with my frat. Maybe she truly did always know what I was thinking.

  “They don’t have the money and I really don’t need it
anyway.”

  I watched her delicate hands move through the kitten’s fur, the motion almost hypnotic.

  “I’m not bragging, it’s just how it is,” I added, quickly.

  “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who brags,” she said, handing the kitten back to me.

  “I could start,” I said, stifling a grin, “if you like that kind of thing.”

  She glanced from my chest to the area below my waist, focused right on my dick. “I can offer a suggested topic, if you need one.” Her eyebrow cocked up.

  She knew what I had under the jeans I wore. She’d felt it and she was clearly reminding me it was something most guys would brag about. I swallowed, the kitten in my hands squirming as much as it seemed like my heart had started to.

  I made myself breathe. I turned from her and put him back in his cage. “We’ll do the cats first,” I said, changing the subject because if I didn’t, I would probably have taken her right there on the floor, “then the dogs.”

  I headed to the supply closet for a bag of food and a litter box scoop. I held them up and showed them to Kate. “I’m not even going to ask,” I laughed, handing her the food.

  “What a gentleman not making me clean poop on our first date.” The bag dangled from her fingers.

  “Hey, don’t forget we’re still going to dinner,” I said, slipping on some yellow dishwashing gloves for litter box duty.

  “Awesome,” she said, her lips twisting, “I guess all this poop is an appetizer.”

  I laughed—a real one—pure emotion. I wanted more. I wanted her. I showed off the bright yellow gloves, wiggled my fingers like tiny bananas. “I guess these are probably not going to increase my chances of getting another kiss,” I said, finally developing the courage to dive into the pool that was only us.

  “Are you kidding? I love a man in uniform.” She winked as she walked to feed the cat in the first cage.

  Damn, if I hadn’t been thinking enough about being with her before this, it was everything now.

  We worked for half an hour and talked about the pets we’d had when we were kids. I told her about my American Kennel Club bred terrier, Scotty, and Kate told me about her rabbit, Mittens.

  “We lived in the city,” she said as explanation.

  “We were rich assholes,” I replied as my own.

  When we were finished with the cats, I took her back to the dog pens. “These guys are my favorite,” I said, flicking on the light.

  They barked and wagged their tails. The kind of OMG you’re here, you’re here welcome only a dog can give.

  “I hope we can keep the same arrangement as before,” she said.

  “Absolutely,” I took a full breath, preparing to dive a little deeper, “I’m hoping for a second date.”

  Her face was shiny. “What will we do on that one, change bedpans at the hospital?”

  “I don’t take people there till the third date,” I said, passing her a bag of dog food.

  “Something to look forward to,” she said, laughing as she walked down the length of the cages. Her red sweater was like a beacon, a light; instead of saying stop it said go. But we had time. We had a whole night ahead of us. Our first kiss had felt perfect, but the situation hadn’t been. Our second kiss had to be.

  Perfection was not poop-covered dishwashing gloves.

  We worked silently this time, her with a bag of dog food and a scoop, me with a mop and bucket. It was as familiar as the talking. Unlike uncomfortable silence, ours was like a string pulling us closer, a frequency only we could hear.

  When we were finished I flicked my gloves into the utility sink and washed my hands. “Okay, you’ve earned your dinner,” I said above the running water.

  “I don’t even want to know what I’d have to do to get dessert too,” she laughed.

  She washed her hands when I was done and we headed out into the snow. It was still coming down like mad. I let Kate in the Jeep first and ran around to the other side to start the car so it would be warm for her while I cleaned it off.

  “I’d like to come back here,” she said as I settled into the driver’s seat.

  “Anytime.” I put the key in the ignition and turned it, hearing only silence, only the sound of snow falling, which was quieter than silence.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said evenly, trying to hide the frustration rising, “maybe the battery.”

  We’d been getting along so well and then fate had to come along and fuck it up. Maybe fate didn’t think I deserved for us to be getting along so well.

  “Should we call Triple A?” she asked.

  I nodded, even though I’d lived here long enough to know that in this weather they probably weren’t coming.

  “Guess you’re getting your wish a little sooner than you planned on,” I said as we got out of the car and walked back toward the SPCA.

  Or maybe I was really getting mine.

  Kate

  I sat on the tiny cot in the back office. Carter had gone to the break room to find us something to eat.

  After a call to Triple A with the answer of, we’ll do our best, the realization hit that we probably weren’t going anywhere, at least until morning.

  We were stuck, together—all night long.

  A red sweater had probably not been the best idea in such close quarters, but how could I have known we’d be spending the night together? A date was one thing. Even the kiss he’d been hinting at was manageable; a room, alone, for a night was something else entirely.

  I’d tried to be like one of the laughing girls. Be able to let life barrel at me, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for what sharing a bed with Carter might change that into.

  Yes, I’d wanted to sleep with him, practically begged for it, but I had been drunk.

  I took off my boots and sat cross-legged. Carter was the kind of guy who probably would sleep on the floor, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.

  Clearly, I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. I shouldn’t have even been here with him, but I was. It was epically confusing that I was relieved when his Jeep didn’t start. I decided to attribute it to the fact I wouldn’t have to face what might be my first dinner ever with a guy sans alcohol, rather than wanting him to share this bed with me.

  It was crazy. He was so much younger than me, not that he knew it. But he seemed wiser than most people in my life. He seemed like he could teach me things if I let him. If I became the Kate he believed I was.

  “All they have is water and graham crackers,” Carter said, his tall frame ducking into the doorway. He handed me a water bottle and the box.

  “Yum,” I said, full of sarcasm, but I was starving, so I reached for a cracker. It was stale.

  He sat on the linoleum floor next to the bed. He was claiming his safe distance already.

  “You can sit up here,” I said, smacking the mattress.

  “Are you sure?”

  I guess I was. “Yeah, the floor is disgusting,” I said as explanation. I didn’t need to tell him the real reason. And truthfully, I couldn’t think about it.

  We both had to do our best to shut our minds off. In my case, I didn’t have much luck without at least a bottle of wine first.

  He sat next to me, the bed squeaking under his weight. “Sorry about this,” he said, breathing out, clearly exasperated. “I’m sure it was definitely not what you had in mind when you agreed to go out with me.”

  “Honestly,” I said, reaching for another graham cracker, “I’ve been on worse dates. They may serve better food, but yeah.” His hands were lying on his thighs. I’d never been with someone who seemed to care so much about making me comfortable, letting me know we could go at any pace I wanted.

  “I haven’t been on a date in three years,” he said, swallowing his breath which seemingly solidified in his throat. He sat back against the wall. “So this is definitely my best one in a while…” His voice lowered an octave. “…my only one in a while.”

 
“Are you serious?”

  He shrugged.

  I leaned toward him, checking him out more closely. He was so handsome—his blue, blue eyes, his wide shoulders and tight abs, his shaggy blond hair. I couldn’t imagine it had been because he’d been rejected. It could only have been because he hadn’t asked.

  I decided not to inquire further. He’d done me the courtesy of not asking about a lot of things. He would tell me if he wanted to, when he was ready.

  “You’re lucky number one,” he said.

  “Is it crazy I feel that way?” I responded, indicating the shabby room around us.

  “Is it crazy I’m happy you do?” He moved his hand to my face slowly. His finger grazed my chin, my cheek. His warm breath was on my lips. The air between us crackled.

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t.

  His lips folded in with mine, his tongue and hands hungry, searching, exposed. His touch quickened along with my breath. I forgot who he was, who I was. He eased his hands behind my head and pulled out my hair band, running his fingers through and undoing my braid as his lips undid me.

  “Your hair is too beautiful to hide,” he said into my lips, “you’re too beautiful to hide.”

  “I feel the same way about you,” I breathed, struck by the realization that my second thoughts about his age didn’t matter when his kiss was so timeless.

  “No more hiding,” he said. His lips smashed into mine powerfully, more aggressively.

  My lips burned with urgency. His kiss lived in the hot skin of my cheeks, the tender hairs behind my neck, the goose bumps riding up and down my thighs.

  He gasped for breath and his gaze darted over me. Not like he was searching, but like he’d found everything he was ever looking for. “Thank you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Just being you, being here, being…”

  “Willing to work for my dinner,” I replied.

  His lips skated against mine so softly, so tenderly, there wasn’t even a word for it.

  The snow falling outside was a cocoon keeping us here. Forcing us to see the truth of who we were to each other, what we could be if we trusted enough to finally let each other in.