Page 35 of Me Three
They’re wearing black pantyhose under a denim short skirt and a floral see-through blouse over a black tank top.
So theydolook gorgeous in everything.
“Why did you invite them? I thought I said I’m not doing this anymore,” Carter says once he’s found his voice and has turned to look at me.
The front door is still open, and I narrow my eyes looking at it, so he closes it.
“I didn’t say I invited Tru over for the both of us,” I tell him.
“Wh-I don’t understand,” he says.
“I mean they’re not here for a threesome,” I say even though I would hope it doesn’t need explaining.
“Then what?” Carter is still gawking like he’s an actual idiot.
Tru gives me their coat and brushes their hand on my arm.
“He means I’m here for a date,” they say.
Carter’s gaze seems to have dropped on our hands touching, something that from the looks of it seems to be baffling him even more.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbles.
“He said you don’t date,” Tru says and looks at me for confirmation. I nod and hang their coat on the rack behind Carter. “You can join us if you’d like…”
But obviously, he won’t. I wish he would. I wish he’d get over the bullshit he’s convinced himself so he never gets hurt again and give someone, anyone, a chance again. It doesn’t even have to be me, or Tru. Just… anyone.
“I meant why didn’t you tell me so I can go out,” he says, seemingly coming to his senses.
“You don’t have to,” I say at the same time as Tru.
“So what? Am I supposed to sit in the living room while you’re having a date in the kitchen?” He shakes his head frustrated, more than warranted for the occasion I would think, and storms past us. “I’ll get out of your way then, I guess.”
He goes into his room and only moments later comes out trying to put a shoe on while also trying to put on his coat.
“Where will you go?” I ask. Carter doesn’t have friends. Most of his friends nowadays are online, part of the gaming community, and that’s the only way he interacts with them.
“I’ll find somewhere,” he says, and before I can stop him, he’s gone.
“Maybe I should go,” Tru says and walks over to their coat.
“Don’t. He’s just being a stubborn idiot, that’s all,” I say. “One of these days I’m hoping he’ll get a grip, but it’s been six years, so I don’t know anymore.”
Tru changes course and walks over to me, putting their hands on my shoulders and looking into my eyes.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Maybe later. For now, I just want it to be you and me. Can we?”
They nod and lean over for a kiss.
“So… what are you cooking for me?”
I chuckle. Good. I don’t want to waste any more time talking about that stubborn dickhead who’s too afraid to face what’s going on in his head and who’s pushing everyone further away from him day by day.
“I was thinking seafood pasta?” I say and their face drops in an instant. “Not a fan?”
“Fish is… too fishy for my taste. I’m sorry.”
