Page 136 of Freshmeet
“Oh, yeah! Sorry.” I helped him onto the long, worn couch.
Carter sat slowly, arranging his body carefully across the faded flower cushions. “I’ll try not to get blood everywhere.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. These couches have been through worse.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and we both laughed.
“Okay, maybe not worse than being stabbed.”
A massive gust of wind rattled the old windows, and the lights flickered.
“Great. That’s just what we need—the power to go out.”
Carter groaned, and I knelt beside him. “How can I help you?”
He caught my hand and squeezed it. “You’re doing it right now.”
I shook my head and frowned down at the beach towel. “I just can’t believe Connor did that.”
“I mean, it’s not like he’s playing with a full deck. The guy had your panties and pictures hidden under his bed.”
My hands froze. I’d never told him where I found the box, or that there were pictures. When I’d run into Duncan and Carter going into the Wel, they’d seen the panties and my panic. I racked my brain, trying to recall our exact conversation, but adrenaline had robbed me of my memory.
Smiling, I said, “You’re right. Let me get you a glass of water.”
Carter tilted his head, studying me before giving me a gentle smile and saying, “Thanks.”
Hurrying into the kitchen, I took a deep breath.
I’m just being paranoid. I must’ve told him.
I filled a glass, my gaze drifting to the window.
Is he still out there? Is he okay?
“You all right?” Carter’s voice startled me, and I dropped the glass in the sink.
“Shit,” I gasped, my hand covering my racing heart. Clearing my throat, I gave him a shaky smile. “Yeah, this storm is just freaking me out.”
Carter stepped closer, his movement no longer stilted.
“Where’s the towel?” My eyes fell on what no longer looked like a wound but rather blood wiped on a shirt.
He glanced over his shoulder. “What happened? You’re being weird.”
“What do you mean?” Dread pooled in my belly.
This is all wrong.
“Ah. I fucked up,” Carter said with a carefree laugh. “I wasn’t supposed to know about the shoebox, huh?” Nodding to himself, he leaned against the counter.
“I, uh, told you about it. Outside the Wel, right?” I reached into the sink, wrapping my hand around the bottom of the broken glass.
Tsking, he pointed at the sink. “You don’t want to do that.”
“I’m just cleaning up,” I said, my voice coming out uneven.
Maybe if I play stupid, I can get away. I am just a rich sorority girl after all.
