Out of Time

13

Friday night I tossed all my shit into the green field bag on my bed, my mind at least a million miles from this damn drill weekend. It had been two days since I last saw Carrie, and I was like a man detoxing from heroin. I had the shakes and I needed her now. If I could hold her for one minute, and inhale her sweet scent, it would be enough to get me through the weekend. Just a small fix.

I hugged her sweater she’d left here, holding it to my nose to inhale deeply. It wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed her. But I couldn’t have her until her parents left. It was fucking ridiculous that I was so impatient considering the fact that it would only be a few days apart. It shouldn’t be so damn hard to be without her.

But it really fucking was.

Even worse? Her father suspected I was hiding something.

I was, but I couldn’t say it yet. Not until my father retired. And the really shitty part about this plan? My silence would only make him hate me in the end.

I couldn’t betray my own father. Not even for my own chance at happiness.

Knowing I’d possibly lost the one chance I had to come clean with the man didn’t exactly sit well, but it was my dad. What was I supposed to do? Throw him under the tires to save myself? Over my dead body.

Still, it sucked ass.

My phone rang, and I crossed the room to pick it up off my bed. Once I saw the number, I relaxed a bit. I’d called my father the other day, after the cryptic lunch with Senator Wallington, but he hadn’t called me back. Dad always called me back right away. “Hey, Dad. It’s about time you returned my call.”

“Hello, son. I heard that you—” he cleared his throat and continued, “that you were getting company out there.”

“Yeah. I kind of expected you to come.” I reclined on my bed, Carrie’s sweater still in my hands. I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the bandage covering my chest. I’d gotten new ink today. “And don’t avoid the question. Why didn’t you call me back?”

I played with her sweater as I waited for Dad to answer. He sounded sluggish tonight. He made a weird moaning sound. “I wasn’t invited to come along, and I was busy.”

I cocked a brow. “Doing what? Guarding the dog? The rest of them are here.”

Dad laughed. “You know how much they love this stupid thing. He asked me to stay behind and take care of her.”

That was a lie. Dad never lied to me.

“You were invited. The senator told me,” I replied, sitting up straight. “He said you were going to come out, but something came up. Then I call, and it takes you two days to get back to me? Tell me the truth—what’s up, Dad?”

“Oh. Okay, then.” Dad sighed, sounding old and tired even through the phone. “I’m sick. I have a pretty nasty flu. It’s knocked me down pretty hard.”

Well, that explained the weak tone of his voice, at least, and the non-visit. I rolled to my feet and went back to packing, balancing the phone on my shoulder and tossing Carrie’s sweater on my pillow. “Oh, that sucks. Are you on the upswing yet?”

He laughed lightly. “I’m trying.”

“Do you want me to let you go to bed? You know rest is the best thing for a flu, right?” I ran a hand over my short hair. I’d gotten it cut earlier this morning. “That and the chicken noodle soup Mom used to make, of course.”

“I am. And I do.” He coughed lightly, then laughed. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I feel fine most of the time. It just gets worse at night.”

He didn’t sound fucking fine to me. My heart picked up speed. The sound of his weak voice brought back bad memories of Mom lying in bed, slowly wasting away till nothing was there but death. “Are you s-sure? I could come home and check on you—”

“No,” he said, his voice perfectly strong that time. “I’m fine. You focus on your job and stop worrying about me and my stupid virus.”

Which reminded me about the call I’d gotten—and the possible deployment. I couldn’t tell him that shit when he was sick. It could be nothing. And if it was something, then I’d tell him about it after this weekend. I didn’t want him losing sleep when he needed the rest. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.” He cleared his throat again, sounding like he choked back a cough at the same time. “I’m going to go now. I love you.”

I swallowed hard. He sounded like shit. “I love you, Dad.”

I hung up the phone and started to set it down, but my phone vibrated in my hand. A text from Carrie. You home?

I sighed and tried to brush off the phone call with my father. He was sick, but he’d get better and be back to his happy self soon enough. Yeah. Packing for cheerleading camp. You?

I grinned as soon as I hit send. She’d get a kick about where I said I’d be going, and I couldn’t wait to see what her reply was. But it didn’t come.

A few minutes passed, making me grow twitchy and forget all about my dad’s cold. Lately, the texts had been shorter and fewer, making me wonder if she was already pulling away from me. Then I remembered she was with her parents, and I kicked myself in the nuts for being such a neurotic fucking mess all the time.

My phone buzzed and I looked down at it with a hunger that was laughable. Who the hell got so excited to get a fucking text? I’m home.

I pictured her lying in her dorm bed, all alone in a pair of skimpy shorts and a tank top. Was her hair down or in a ponytail? My heart squeezed tight. I shouldn’t miss her this much, damn it. It had only been a few days of no contact. We’d gone longer before, but that had been before we became a couple.

I guess that made a difference in my tolerance. I shook my head and focused on my phone. Going to bed now?

Barely a second passed. Maybe…

It’s either a yes or a no. What’s the hesitance?

Hold on.

The key sounded in the door, and I lurched to my feet. The only other person with a key was Carrie. And if Carrie was here…I didn’t know whether to kiss her or yell at her for being so damn reckless. With her parents in town, the last place she should be is with me.

Her father had said no one was watching us, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lying. The man was more slippery than an eel in salt water. I didn’t trust him one bit. She walked in, closing the door behind her quickly, her eyes locking with mine. All that mattered was she was here.

A fist of emotion knocked the breath right out of me, making it hard to breathe. I took a stumbling step toward her, then another. Yeah. I wasn’t going to yell at her. I was going to kiss her and hold her and thank God she came to see me because I’d missed her way too much. My fingers itched with the need to touch her, to have her.

All I could manage to say, amidst all the feelings she brought to life with her reappearance, was one word. “Carrie.”

“Before you say anything, I know I’m not supposed to be here.” She leaned against the door and breathed heavily, her eyes on mine. Her gaze dipped lower, lingering on the bandage on my chest, but then she tore her eyes away. “But I have a car now. Dad bought it for me. I told Mom I wanted one and the next day it was there. It’s ridiculous how easy it was, but it got me here, and that’s all that matters.”

I blinked at her. She had a car now? I hadn’t even known she wanted one.

She continued on, obviously not needing a reply from me. “I parked at the store down the street. Then I went inside, left through the back, and walked here. I won’t stay long, so no one will guess where I am. Don’t yell at me.”

I opened and closed my fists. “Why would I yell at you when I could kiss you instead?”

“Then do it already,” she said, her eyes flashing at me.

I let out a broken sound I didn’t even recognize and closed the distance between us. I didn’t stop until I had her pinned against the door, my body glued to hers. I ran my hands all over her, starting at her shoulder, then dipping down her side and brushing against her breast. Her breath hitched in her throat, and I yanked her against my body, knowing I should be sending her away but unable to.

Because I was fucking lost.

“You’re really here,” I breathed. “It’s not another dream.”

“I’m really here.” She tilted her face up, her nails digging into my chest. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

I groaned and closed my mouth over hers, slipping my tongue inside her lips as if I were a starving man and she was my last supper. And if she was? Well, at least I’d die a happy man. She let out a whimper and clung to me harder, her tiny nails piercing my skin. I couldn’t give a damn.

She could draw blood from me as often as she wanted, as long as she was here.

Our kiss seemed to break something inside of me. I growled as I lifted her against the door, my hands on her waist. As I undid the button, she trembled and grabbed her shirt, breaking off the kiss long enough to rip it over her head before fusing her mouth to mine once more.

I tugged her shorts over hips, letting them hit the floor, then slid my hand between her legs, expecting to feel the smooth satin of her underwear. Instead, I touched bare skin, and I shuddered with the need that punched through me. It would drive me fucking insane from now on—wondering whether she had anything on under her fucking pants.

I let go of her and crossed the room in record speed, grabbing a condom out of my drawer and tearing it open impatiently. After I had the protection aspect of what we were about to do under control, I stepped between her legs and lifted her higher against the door. I wanted to take it slow and be all seductive and romantic and shit, but she was driving me insane with the little noises she was making and the way her hips rose toward me, begging for more. And I was a desperate man.

I broke off the kiss, my breathing harsh and my cock positioned at her pussy. “This isn’t going to be sweet or soft. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes.” She buried her hands in what was left of my hair and wrapped her legs around my waist. “Just hurry up, damn it.”

I groaned and kissed her again, plunging inside of her in one smooth thrust. When I was buried inside her all the way, I tightened my grip on her and pressed her against the door even harder to make sure she had good support. Then…I fucking lost all control. I pulled out of her and thrust back inside—hard and fast and rough. And I didn’t stop.

She clung to me, crying out my name. For a second I thought I hurt her, and started to pull back, but she dug her heels into my ass and held me in place, her hips moving restlessly against me. “Don’t…stop.”

I growled and plunged inside of her again, even harder. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me, and how much I needed her in my life, but all I could do was move inside of her, making her moan and scream out my name and draw my blood.

Her nails raked down my chest to my abs, leaving a stinging sensation behind them, and I drove deeper inside of her. Her hands faltered over my bandage, but she closed her eyes and lost herself in the rhythm. When she started trembling, her thighs quivering around me, I positioned myself so that I brushed against her clit with each thrust and bit down on her neck. Within seconds, her pussy clenched around me and she tensed, her whole body going tight and hard.

I pounded into her once, twice, and one more time, my entire body shutting down from the force of the orgasm rocking through me. I collapsed against her, still supporting her weight with one arm, and dropped my head against the door by her shoulder. She breathed as unevenly as I did, and she held me close, her arms tight around me.

I didn’t want to ever move. I wanted to stay like this, buried inside of her against my fucking apartment door. Because once I moved, I knew she would have to leave, and I’d be alone again, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.

She lifted her head from my shoulder, looking up at me with her bright blue eyes. “I think we needed that. These past few days have been rough.”

“I know. I never thought I’d be one of those guys who needed his girl with him to be happy, but…” I shrugged and smiled at her. “I am now, and I don’t mind. What did you do to me, Ginger?”

“I don’t know, but you did it to me, too.” She blew her hair out of her face and eyed me. “What’s up with the bandage? You okay?”

I sighed and lifted her off the door, setting her down on her feet gently. She clung to me for a second, then seemed to gain her footing. Bending down, I picked up her shorts and handed them to her. “Yeah. I’m fine. Where’s your dad right now?”

She gave me a lopsided grin. “Probably still recovering from me yelling at him. I kind of told him to mind his own business from now on.” She stepped into the shorts and buttoned them, then took her shirt out of my hand and smiled her thanks. “Went all independent woman on him and everything.”

“Man, I would’ve paid to see that.” I snorted, picturing the look on her dad’s face while Carrie told him off. “I bet he didn’t know what to say.”

“Oh, he definitely didn’t.” She pulled the shirt over her head and leaned against the door, right where I’d fucked her. I would never be able to look at a door again without getting a hard-on. “It was pretty funny. I should have taken a picture of his face for you.”

I pulled on my shorts and sat down on the edge of my bed, not bothering with a shirt, and held my arms out for her. “Come here, Ginger. I can’t stand not having you in my arms for another second.”

She crossed the room and sat in my lap, curling up against my chest in a little ball. She rested her hand over my chest, right above my new tat. “Now answer me. What’s with the bandage?”

“I got new ink.”

She perked up at that. “Cool. Show me?”

I grinned and hugged her closer. “I will in a minute. Right now I just want to hold you before I send you back to your dad.”

“Do you think he knows about us?”

I sighed, carefully choosing my words. “I think he knows you’re seeing someone, but he doesn’t know who.”

She placed her hand over my heart. “Did he ask you if I’m seeing anyone?”

I nodded and rested my cheek on top of her head. She didn’t smell like my shampoo. For some reason, that made me sad. “He did. I told him I’d seen you with a few guys, but they all seemed to be just friends. I said you were focusing on your studies for the most part.”

“A few guys?” She slapped my arm hard. “You made me sound like a slut?”

I laughed. “I said they were friends.”

“But you made—”

“Oh, shut it already.” I tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her, laughing and kissing her into silence. When she was clinging to me and squirming beneath me, I pulled back and looked down at her. Everything from her flushed cheeks to her swollen lips screamed for me to keep her here, under me, but I knew I couldn’t. So I did the first thing that came to mind.

I tickled her.

For a second, I wondered if she wasn’t ticklish. She just stared up at me with narrowed eyes, but then her eyes went wide, a whoosh of air left her lungs, and she broke into laughter, squirming and begging me to stop. I joined her, laughing my ass off and tickling harder.

Only once tears were streaming down her face and she was begging for mercy did I stop, and she still laughed, clinging to me. We both struggled to catch our breath, and I rolled onto the side, holding her close. “You’re extremely ticklish, Ginger.”

She took a shaky breath, finally seeming to have herself under control. “I had no idea. I’ve never been tickled.”

“Seriously?” I asked her incredulously. Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. The senator didn’t exactly seem the tickling type, but I’d thought her mother might have been… I guess not. My own mother had been. “I’m going to tickle you all the time now.”

“God, no.” She laughed lightly but pressed her lips together, her eyes on my bag. “Are you going to show me your tattoo before I have to go?”

I hesitated. It was the most telling piece I’d gotten since I got Mom’s birthdate on my shoulder. “Yeah. Soon.”

She ran her fingers over my head lightly. “You cut your hair, huh?”

I kissed her gently. “Yep. I have to report for duty in the morning.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes still on the bag. She sighed and looked away, her gaze on my pillow. “Are you bringing my shirt with you?”

I arched my neck, spotting the purple sweater I’d been hugging earlier. My cheeks heated, and I debated whether to admit why it was there. Would she think it was pathetic or sweet? If I told another guy, he’d call me names I didn’t even say out loud.

But this was Carrie.

“Well, you see…” I cleared my throat. Something told me I was turning in my man-card by admitting this, but fuck it. I didn’t need it. “I missed you. So I may or may not have been sniffing your sweater right before you came.”

Tears filled her eyes and she wrapped her arms around my neck. “That’s way too cute.”

“Are you sure?” I kissed her, keeping it light and sweet. “It might just be creepy.”

“I’m positive as a proton that it’s cute and not even the slightest bit creepy.”

I chuckled. “I missed hearing that phrase….” I trailed off and kissed her neck, desperately breathing in her scent so I could carry it with me all weekend. “Did you want to see my ink now?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said, craning her neck and trying to peek. “I’ve only been begging for the past five minutes. What is it?”

I peeled it back enough for her to see. “It’s our tattoo.”

I watched her as she read it, her mouth silently moving along as she read the words. It was in a script-type scrawl: the sun is finally shining. It was over my heart, which was fitting since she owned it.

“It’s perfect.” She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “I want one, too. When you get back, you’ll take me. Got it?”

“You want ink?”

“I do. I want that one.” She ran her fingers over it gently, making sure not to hurt me. It was still raised and red and covered in the antibacterial goo, but I didn’t tell her not to touch it. I didn’t give a damn. “That same exact one.”

“Then you’ll have it.” I kissed her gently. After grabbing her hand, I helped her to her feet and hugged her tight, my heart hammering away at the idea of her walking away from me. “But now you have to go. Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone.”

“I’m not making any promises.” She buried her face in my chest. “Hey, where are the rest of my clothes?”

“Under the bed. You can hang them back up once your parents are gone.”

“I will.” She hugged me tighter, obviously as reluctant as me to let go. “Do I have to go?”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell her she could stay, her father be damned. But I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, even if it felt like it right now. “You do.”

“But the sun is finally shining,” she said, her voice muffled because she had her face pressed against my bare chest.

My heart fisted painfully, making it hard to breathe. “It really fucking is.” My fingers flexed on her, but I forced myself to let go. “I’ll follow you from a distance, okay?”

“Okay.” She bit her lip. “But it’s only a two-minute walk to my car. I’ll be fine.”

“The day I let you walk around at night by yourself is the day I’ll be dead in a coffin.” Which reminded me… “Are you going to the soup kitchen with Marie?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I have tons of McDonald’s gift cards sitting in my room.”

“That’s fine, but leave before dark—no matter what.” I shooed her out the door. “Now get that perfect ass walking out that door so I can follow you.”

She gave me one last longing look, then opened the door and left without another word. I silently slid out of my apartment about ten seconds later and followed her. She didn’t acknowledge my existence, but she knew I was there.

When she got in her car—which turned out to be a used 2003 Mercedes SL500—and drove off, she craned her neck to watch me until I worried she’d crash into a telephone pole. I had to tackle the desire to chase after her car and drag her back to my apartment where she fucking belonged.

I leaned against the wall in the alleyway and closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe how much a man could change in the blink of an eye. Before her, I didn’t want a relationship or love. I wanted to focus on work and life before settling down, if I ever did. Now, all I could think about was love and marriage and babies and all the shit that came when you signed your heart away to another person. And yet, amidst all of the dreams, hopes, and desires, I knew that this time tomorrow…

I would find out whether our love would withstand what the world was going to throw our way.

Carrie

I crept up the stairs to my dorm, my heart racing as I hid in the shadows. I was fairly certain Dad’s guards hadn’t caught on to my ruse, but with them, you never knew. They were all sneaky bastards that made a living off following you around. And they were good at it, too. After all, Dad only hired the best.

I slipped into my dorm room, closing the door behind me quietly. As I leaned against it, I pulled out my phone and shot off a quick text to Finn to let him know I got home all right. He replied immediately, wishing me a good night, and I closed my eyes, holding my phone to my chest.

Going to see him had been a risky move.

But he was leaving tomorrow morning, and I’d missed him, and it had to happen. I was terrified that once he showed up tomorrow, he wouldn’t be coming back. Scared that something or someone wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t leave me.

I pushed off the door and crossed the room quietly. I peeked in the direction of Marie’s bed, but it was empty. Guess I didn’t have to be so quiet. I flopped back on the bed and looked up at the dark ceiling. I should probably shower or something, but I didn’t want to move.

I kept replaying the short visit with Finn over and over in my head, like a baby’s lullaby. He’d actually gotten a tattoo for us. That was huge for him. We didn’t talk much about his tattoos, but I knew each one had a special meaning behind it. He didn’t mindlessly ink himself.

And he’d put me there. Me.

I’d have to decide where to get mine. I hadn’t been kidding about that. I wanted one just like his. Maybe on my wrist? Oh, God. Dad would flip. I might be braver and a little bit more rebellious now, but not so much so that I’d go that far. It would have to be in a hidden spot. One Dad wouldn’t have to look at. Maybe my hip?

I didn’t know. All I knew was I needed one.

Just like I needed Finn to come back home to me, as soon as possible. I closed my eyes and for the first time in years…I prayed.