Page 44 of Released from the Sin Bin

We all knew he was drafted, but I thought he opted to finish school first. I’ll miss him, but he’ll be happy living his dream.

A dream I once shared before now.

“You look sad.” Carter breaks into my thoughts after getting the sofa bed set up in the living room. “Are you in any pain?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Your bed is all set up, princess.” He tosses a pillow at the top.

“Don’t call me that.” I toss a throw pillow at him. “Where are you sleeping?”

“On the floor.” He fluffs the pillow I threw at him before tossing it on the floor beside the bed. “Right next to you.”

He bends down and lifts me into his arms to place me on the bed. I could get used to being carried around all the time.

“Why don’t you sleep in the bed next to me?” I let him help me into the bed and under the covers.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shrugs. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Why not? We slept against each other earlier?” I hate the idea of Carter sleeping on that floor again after all he’s done for me today.

“You were hypothermic and passed out.” He argues with me before switching gears. “Did you drink that bottle of water I gave you?”

“Yes.” I wave the empty bottle at him. “I don’t like how you feel the need to sleep on the floor.”

He shuts the light off and lies down on the floor, ignoring me.

“Carter,” I whine and look over the side to see him. “We’re both adults. Do you think I’m going to try and touch you or something?”

The corner of his lip turns up. “You’d love to touch me again.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You are not at all my type. Get up here, or I’m going to keep whining.”

“Fine,” he groans and makes his way to the other side of the bed, lying on top of the blanket and covering himself with another. “And I am so your type. I’m every woman's type.”

“Please,” I scoff and hit his chest with the back of my hand. “You are so full of yourself.”

“If I roll in my sleep and land on your ankle, it’s your fault.”

I smile at him, watching his eyes close as he settles into the bed to get comfortable. He acts all tough and callous, but deep inside, I think he really cares. I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. He’s only acting like the villain.

“Carter?”

“What?” he growls in frustration at being kept awake.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy,” I say, pleased with my revelation. “Cocky? Yes. Rude? Sometimes. But I don't think you're that much of an asshole after all.”

“Based on your track record, I think you have terrible judgment when it comes to men.” He grunts when I hit his stomach.

I don’t care what he says. It’s a ruse to push people away.

“You’ve proven it tonight,” I say to have the last word, because I know I’m right. “No matter what you say, actions speak louder than words, and I’m finally getting that. You are one of the good guys.”

He sits up abruptly and peels his shirt over his head.

“You’re right, Willa.” He tosses his shirt into my face. “I’m being too nice.” Leaning over me, his breath fans my face. “You thought Vic was a good guy too, but look what happened there. Don’t underestimate what’s going on in our heads. I am not a good guy.” He taps the side of his head and hops off the bed to go down the hall to the bedrooms.

---