Page 81 of A Whole New Play

The words belong to my mother. That’s not how I view Abby and Andy at all. But it doesn’t matter. The sweetness of the kiss sours.

I draw back gently. My heart squeezes when I watch Carter’s eyes slowly open and he smiles like a smitten teenager.

“I should go back to my room,” I murmur.

“I’ll join you.”

I caress the side of his face. “That’s probably not a good idea.” The twins are staying with their grandparents tonight, but I wouldn’t put it past them to knock on my door early in the morning to ask me to join them for breakfast.

He leans into my touch and sighs. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes.”

He nods and takes my hand from his face, kissing my fingers before lacing them with his. “Come on.” He stands and gently tugs on our hands. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

I stand. “Aren’t you going to go out with Corey and Carlee?”

“Nah. There are only three people I want to hang out with tonight, and they’re all staying in for the night.”

My heart swells, but it doesn’t stop me from hearing my mother’s negative voice once more.

Are you playing mommy dearest, now?

My gaze drops as we enter the hotel lobby. I gnaw on my bottom lip as fear after fear swirls in my mind.

I haven’t taken on a motherly role with the twins, but I can see how that would be easy to do even if I weren’t in a relationship with their father. But the fact I am forces me to acknowledge I’m walking a fine line here.

I care about Abby and Andy, but I’m not their mother. I don’t want to replace her. And the twins don’t want that either. They may have a strained relationship with her right now, but they still love her.

So what the hell are you doing putting yourself in the middle of this messy situation?

As much as I hate my mother’s criticisms, even those I create in my head, I have to admit the inner voice asks a good question.

My stomach churns with unease when I’m forced to admit that I have no idea what I’m doing or what this means for me and the man currently leading me to the elevator bay with a happy smile.

Carter cares about me, and I care about him. He’s the best man I’ve ever been with, but you know what sucks?

No matter how many times I remind myself how great Carter Jones is, I can’t shake the thought that our relationship is not built to last.

No matter how much I wish otherwise.

25

CARTER

A shrill ring pierces the quiet hotel room, yanking me out of sleep. I bolt upright and look around the dim room. I don’t immediately recognize the sound comes from my cell phone. When I do, I lumber out of bed and retrieve it from the TV stand against the far wall.

I rub my bleary eyes and squint at the illuminated screen.

Gary Ramirez.

In a blink, the sleepy fog lifts. I look at the time and confirm the ungodly hour. My agent wouldn’t be calling unless it was important.

Foreboding settles in my gut as I answer the call. “Gary?”

“Carter,” he greets. “Sorry for calling so early, but I assumed you’d want to get ahead of this story as soon as possible.”

---