Consider Me (Playing For Keeps Book 1)
Consider Me: Chapter 12

CARTER

THERE’S a part of me that would like to say nothing happens when our lips finally meet for the first time. That it’s the same as it always is: no sparks, no flames. That there’s a sinking feeling in my stomach, an anchor that drops to the very bottom as fast as it can when I realize this is nothing new, that I’m right back to feeling like the type of love my parents shared doesn’t exist for me, that I’ll never replace it. That I’m okay with that, the way I have been all these years.

A part of me would like to say that’s what happens.

But it’s not. I can’t say that.

Because when I haul Olivia into me, when her hands slip up my arms, over my shoulders, fingers plunging into my hair, when our lips touch—fucking finally—my entire body comes alive. My world explodes with color, my hands on her face trembling with desire and need, with shock. I want more. I need more. I don’t see how I’ll ever get enough of this, of her, of us. She’s a drug, and I’m addicted off my very first hit.

Her lips part on a sigh, the hint of vanilla and brown sugar begging my tongue to reach out and take a taste.

So I do. We meet with a hot, wet sweep, one that makes me groan, and I sink into the feel of her, the heat that urges me closer, until there’s nowhere left to go.

Everything around us dies down to a gentle simmer, the frantic drum of my heart beating wildly against my sternum drowns everything else out. None of it matters anyway, nothing except this woman in my arms, the way her mouth moves so fluidly with mine as I swallow every one of her whimpers.

Olivia pushes forward and I let her walk me backward until my calves hit a chair. When I fall to it, she falls with me, climbing right into my lap as her fingers plow through my hair, hanging on tight, as if she has no intention of letting go, which is exactly how I feel about her.

It’s not until my hands slide down her back, grasp her waist tightly, spurring that tiny nip of her teeth on my lip, that I’m suddenly aware the room is silent, save for the soft hum of the crowd around us. I crack one lid, Cara’s astonished, irritated face the first one I see. Emmett looks slightly scared beside her, scared for me, probably, because his girlfriend can kick my ass. Adam hits me with two thumbs up and an eager grin, and Garrett starts trying to collect his winnings.

My hands sweep the length of Olivia’s arms until I replace hers in my hair. Twining our fingers, I pull our hands between us and press one more kiss to her lips.

And one more quick one.

Okay, one more. Just for good measure, because fuck me, she tastes like the best kind of sin.

“Ollie,” I whisper when she goes in for a fourth. She’s not done yet, which is cool, because I’m so far from being done with her. “Ollie, we have an—”

“That was one hell of a fireworks show,” someone whoops out. “I’m five hundred bucks richer!”

Fucking Garrett.

And Olivia’s eyes flip open, the sound she makes stuck somewhere between a gasp, a whimper, and a plea, all rolled into one.

“Oh.” She shifts back, touching trembling fingers to her lips. Her face burns bright as she tries to climb off me. “Oh my God.”

“Hey.” Smoothing a palm down her back, I keep her in place. “It’s okay. Just a kiss. Not a big deal.”

That doesn’t do the trick. Her gaze wobbles until it drops, and when she swallows, it’s so thick I can hear it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and before I can ask what for, she slips off my lap and disappears down the hallway with Cara.

“Mind your business,” I toss out without any real heat at everyone else as I cross the room, Emmett hot on my heels.

“You fucking kissed her,” he hisses.

“She said I could,” I hiss right back.

He shoves my shoulder. “Do you like her?”

I jam my elbow into his ribs. “Yes, I fucking like her.”

Clapping a hand across my mouth and pushing me up against the wall, Emmett shushes me loudly. He holds a finger to his lips before releasing me and gesturing down the hall, where Cara’s voice filters from.

“You like him.” It’s more accusation than anything.

“Of course I like him, Cara. He’s charming and funny and makes me smile in this irritating sort of way and I’m losing my damn mind because I’m totally falling for Carter Beckett.”

Hell yeah she is. Charming? Check. Funny? As fuck. Make her smile? No better compliment. Emmett rolls his eyes as I jerk a fist into my side in celebration.

Olivia keeps going. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Ouch. That kinda hurts. Am I really that bad? Kind of a stupid question, all things considered. I’m not what you’d call boyfriend material.

But maybe…maybe I could be, for her. I’d like to try, anyway.

Their voices disappear, and when I peek around the corner, I frown. They’re gone, and I don’t know where.

When Cara returns five minutes later, she’s alone.

“Did she leave?” Shit. I fucked this up somehow, didn’t I?

Cara makes a sound of annoyance. “What’s your endgame here, Carter?”

“Endgame?” What the hell does that mean? I wanted to kiss her, so I did. I like her and she likes me. Why is everyone making such a big deal about this?

“Yes, Carter, endgame. What’s your plan?”

“I want to…” I scratch my head. I want to see her again. I want to take her to that damn Disney movie. I want to kiss her some more, maybe snuggle on my couch while we watch TV in front of the fireplace and I play with her hair, ’cause it’s soft and it smells nice.

“You don’t even know what you want.”

“That’s not true. I want Olivia.”

“You want every girl.”

“It’s not the same, Cara. Not with her.”

It’s never really been about wanting so much as it’s been about satisfying an urge, slapping a temporary bandage over a void. Because the truth is, though I promised my mom I wouldn’t let a love like my parents’ get away, there’s a big part of me that not only expected to never replace it but didn’t want to either. When you love someone so wholly, it makes you weak. You risk pieces of yourself that you can’t afford to lose.

With Olivia, the ache doesn’t feel so startlingly empty. I don’t know why, but I do know that much. I also know that the thought alone scares the shit out of me.

I’m not sure what Cara sees in me, but the harsh lines in her expression soften, giving way to the big heart she sometimes likes to hide. With a sigh, she tells me Olivia went upstairs to replace a bathroom, to take a breather, and to give her a couple minutes.

And I do. I give her five minutes, then ten. The longer I wait around, pretending to listen to the conversation, the more antsy I get. My head rolls on my shoulders, and the fifth time I open my fridge for absolutely nothing at all, Adam sighs.

“Just go get her, man.”

With a six pack of beer tucked under my arms, I take the stairs two at a time, checking each room along the way down the hall, and frown when I come up empty. There’s a part of me that worries she’s decided to leave, snuck out the front door, but then I remember her heels on my kitchen floor.

A sliver of golden light pours out through the cracked door at the end of the hall, along with the faint smell of burning cherrywood, and I push it open, slowly stepping into my bedroom.

The room itself is empty of the person I’m looking for, but a frigid gust of wind blows through the glass doors leading out to my balcony, sheer curtains ruffling with the breeze, and I follow the smell of fire outside. And there on the outdoor lounger set opposite the built-in stone fireplace, curled up beneath a blanket, is just the person I’m looking for.

Orange flames lick up around her, illuminating the soft lines of her face, the gentle heave of her chest, the swell of her lips as she breathes deeply. With her hands curled under her chin, Olivia sleeps soundly, the sweet sight crushing like a weight on my chest.

I’ve never had a woman here who I wanted something from. Never allowed a woman to be vulnerable enough in my space to fall asleep. Never had to work so hard to push down the longing that makes me itch to climb in behind her, pull her into my chest, and just fucking…be.

Until Olivia.

As I sink down to the cushion beside her, I replace myself wondering if everything is always going to be until Olivia, if this is that point in my life where everything starts changing. The thought is as thrilling as it is both confusing and frightening, and I replace myself wondering if the risk might be worth the reward.

Olivia stirs slightly, toes pressing against my thigh, the sharp bite of her freezing skin stinging mine right through the thick denim. Covering her feet with the fuzzy blanket, toasty from the fire, I squeeze her toes in my hand, trying to warm them before this west coast winter can inflict permanent damage on the cutest toes I’ve ever seen.

Her feet flex in my grasp and her arms shoot over her head with a moan as she stretches like a sleepy kitten. Dark lashes flutter, giving way to bleary eyes the color of coffee, and when realization sinks in, she drops her head back to the cushion with a groan, face buried behind her palm.

“Please tell me you didn’t catch me sleeping on the balcony off your bedroom.”

“I didn’t catch you sleeping on the balcony off my bedroom.”

She huffs a laugh and sits up. “I wasn’t snooping or anything.”

“So how did you end up in my bedroom, and then on my balcony, and curled up beneath my blanket, which was on my bed, by the way?”

“I…I…”

I lift a brow, and heat rushes up her neck, pooling in her cheeks.

“I wasn’t snooping,” she promises, and that’s about the last time she takes a breath. “I was overwhelmed and I couldn’t think straight so I came up here for some quiet and I got curious and the lights were on and your bedroom wasn’t what I was expecting and then I found this and the coals were still hot and this fucking view, Carter, it’s absolutely incredible and I was just staring at it and I hope you’re not upset with me for invading your privacy and falling asleep.”

Upset with her? I’m not upset with her. I’m just fucking staring at her, watching as she goes on and on, this breathtaking masterpiece who’s so wildly contradicting with the way she spits fire and sarcasm while simultaneously caring too much about what people think.

And honestly? I fucking adore her.

Taking her hands in mine, I watch her rambling stop, watch her gaze shake with apprehension.

“Hey, pip-squeak. Take a breath. Don’t be sorry.” I gesture around us, the crackling flames, the sea of stars swimming in the night sky, the endless trail of black pines leading up to the peaks of the mountains. This view right here is why I bought this plot of land four years ago. “I get it. It’s impossible not to get a little lost when you’re looking out at all this. Kind of realize how small and insignificant we all are, all our problems. It’s my favorite place to be when I need to think, need peace and quiet.” When I need to forget who the world thinks Carter Beckett is and remember who I actually am, or who I want to be, maybe.

When my gaze floats down from the stars, it replaces Olivia carefully watching me, and I wonder what she sees when she looks at me. Is she able to see past the image I’ve carelessly created for myself? I think she is. I’m less sure that her decisions aren’t fueled by that image, though.

She gestures at the beer, a silent question, and I nod, watching as she twists the cap off two, one for each of us. She sips quietly for a minute before asking, “Why did you come after me?”

“Because I haven’t been able to get you off my mind all night. If I’m being honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you walked out on me when we were supposed to get food.”

Another beat of silence.

“Do you know what scares me about you, Carter?”

Everything, probably, but hopefully something I can fix. “What?”

“That I honestly don’t know whether you’re being genuine or if you’re just trying exceptionally hard to get into my pants.”

“It’s a dress,” I tease with a cheeky grin, reaching forward to tug on the wavy hem of the sleeve wrapped around her delicate wrist. Her unimpressed face tells me it’s not the time for jokes.

The short and truthful answer to her worry is both. I genuinely care about her and want to spend time with her, but I would also throw myself at her feet if it meant she’d let me destroy her body, because I want to absolutely wreck her.

I mean that in the most respectful way possible, of course.

“You make me think.” Too much, maybe. It’s messing with my head; everything is jumbled.

She does a half eye roll. “Because you aren’t used to having to work for it?”

Christ. Like, I fucking get it. Nobody trusts me with Olivia, her included, because I fuck around a lot. Nobody thinks I have it in me to change, to want more, to treat a girl right.

Draining my beer and ditching it on the table, I scrub both hands down my face. I don’t know what to do and it’s unnerving. I never have to second-guess myself on the ice. I command that rink and I’ve worked damn hard to earn the respect of my teammates, their confidence in me as their captain. I do my best not to let them down, but right now, I feel like I’m letting myself down. I don’t know what my next move should be. How the hell do I get her to trust me enough to give me a shot here at something, anything?

Olivia touches my knee, drawing my attention. “I’m sorry, Carter. My sauciness is my best defense mechanism.”

I nod. “I see that.” And I get it.

“I meant what I said earlier. I do like you. I just…”

“Don’t trust me,” I finish for her. “And why would you? Why would anyone?” Meant to say that last one in my head.

Olivia’s eyes flicker and drop. Then she reaches out, timid fingers wrapping around mine. “I’m really sorry, Carter.”

Her sincerity is appreciated but she doesn’t have anything to apologize for. It’s my own fault. Emmett always told me my fucking around would come back to bite me in the ass one day. I always figured he meant an accidental pregnancy with a puck bunny, though I’m careful as hell. Birth control and a condom or I’m not going in. I didn’t think in a million years he meant that the only woman I’ve ever wanted would ultimately not go for me because of my past.

But here she is, having already admitted her feelings for me, the only thing standing in our way being my less than stellar history with relationships, or rather, lack thereof.

So, I guess I need to work on changing her mind, give her a reason to trust me, even if it’s slow and takes me all damn year. I’ll be her friend first, and I’ll be good.

For her.

For Olivia.