Page 75 of Daring You

“Whiskey. We need hard brown stuff,” Sophie says, and goes on a new search.

“In the bottom cupboard,” I say.

“Do you mind that Soph’s here?” Carter asks once Sophie’s out of earshot. “I can ask her to…”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I wave it off. “I have a difficult time opening up to people I know. Strangers, I have no problem dumping on.”

Carter pats my leg. “Eventually, you’re going to see this as a good thing. Mike wasn’t the right man for you.”

“And you all knew it.”

Carter pauses. “I think…everyone was letting you make your own decision on that.”

“Classic attorney answer. You missed your calling.”

“Astor…” Carter approaches her next words carefully. “I’m not sure you’re handling it okay.”

At that, I let out a loud guffaw. Mike, in all his inadequacies, is the last thing on my mind. But Carter can’t know that. “I’m coping as best I can.”

She frowns. “And Ben? Has he been helping you through it?”

My shoulders go stiff. “What does Ben have to do with this?”

“Well, I’ve noticed…I mean, it’s hard not to. The two of you in a room together, it’s like nothing else can exist. You two take up all the oxygen. I had to wonder—”

“If we’ve hooked up?” Yes. “No.”

“Okay, well, have you thought about trying?”

I stare at Carter like she just proposed that she, Sophie and I engage in a lesbian orgy. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“Well, yeah.” Carter shrugs. “Nothing like letting off a little steam, and you and Ben would explode the roof off this apartment complex.”

She’s not wrong.

“There’s no sexual tension between us,” I say.

“Now you’re being a shit lawyer. You can lie better than that.” Carter smirks behind her wine glass.

“I’m not a believer in healing heartbreak by jumping into bed with another man,” I say a little too primly. Mostly because that’s exactly what I’ve done.

“Not what I’m getting at,” Carter says. She seems to think a while, rubbing her lips together and staring off in the direction Sophie went, before continuing, “I was really difficult on Locke.”

“Huh?”

“When I first met him. When I had to give Lily up to him. I was brutal.”

“I remember,” I say, then squint at her, wondering where she’s going with this.

“My best friend had just passed away, and the only piece of her that remained—that I loved—was going to someone who, I believed, had no idea how much of a precious person he was getting. I was broken, and saw Locke only through jagged edges. I didn’t give him a chance.”

“Carter, I know all of this. We’ve forgiven you. He’s forgiven you, if there’s even something to forgive. You were protecting a child who couldn’t speak for herself—”

“I often wonder if I could’ve healed my heart a lot faster by opening up to him sooner.” Carter shrugs. “Would’ve saved both of us a lot of suffering.”

I resume squinting at her. “You’re drawing a parallel to me and Ben. I don’t appreciate it.”

“I’m not telling you this to gather sympathy,” Carter says. “I’m telling you this because sometimes we can’t see past our own wounds, and that only makes us bleed longer. Locke’s a good, terrific man. And so is Ben.”

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