Page 16 of Too Late

I slam the door as hard as I can after I climb inside. I wait for him to walk outside, but he doesn’t. Several moments pass, and I realize he has no intention of following me. He’s actually going to eat first. He’s an even bigger jerk than I thought.

I grab the baseball cap off the console and put it on my head, pulling it down over my eyes to block the sun. If I have to wait for him to eat lunch before he takes me back to Asa’s car, I might as well get a nap out of it.

TEN

CARTER

“Can we get these to go?” I ask, handing our drinks to the waitress. “And the pizza?”

“I’ll have it right out,” she says. She walks away and I lean forward, dropping my head in my hands.

I have no idea what just got into me. I’ve never let a girl get to me like this. Much less a girl I’m not even dating.

But damn her! It’s so frustrating. I don’t understand how she can be so headstrong and confident when she’s around me, but at her own home she acts like a completely different person. Then, out of the blue, she accosts me for beingniceto her? What thehell? I realize some women are drawn to men like Asa. I’ve been in this career long enough to see that. I try to empathize and understand it, but I can’t fathom why Sloan remains in the situation she’s in. It’s so damn painful having to sit back and watch it, because I don’t know what’s kept her there.

Even if it’s not my place, I can’t be alone with her like this and not use it as an opportunity to convince her she’s better than this. Although I’m pretty sure calling her a doormat and saying the shit I said isn’t how to convince her of that.

I’m a fucking idiot.

“Your order is at the counter,” the waitress says, handing me the bill. I grab it from her and pay, then head outside with Sloan’s food.

When I approach the car, I pause before opening the door. She’s sitting in the passenger seat with her feet propped up on the dash. She’s got my ball cap on, tugged down over her eyes. Her dark hair is swept over her right shoulder, spilling down over her arms, which are folded across her chest.

Seeing her in her red dress the other night messed with my mind so bad, I didn’t sleep all night. But seeing her here … asleep in my car … wearing my ball cap?

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again.

I open the door and she pulls her feet off the dash, but doesn’t pull the ball cap from over her eyes. She shifts her body more toward the passenger door, a move that causes me to wince.

I hurt her. She’s so damaged, and I hurt her even more.

“Here,” I say, holding the to-go cup out to her. She lifts the brim of the cap and looks up at me. I’m surprised to see that her eyes aren’t red. I assumed the hat was to cover up the fact that she was crying, but she hasn’t shed a single tear.

She takes the drink from my hands, so I hold the pizza box out to her. She takes it, and I slide into the driver’s seat. She immediately opens the lid to the pizza and grabs a slice, shoving it into her mouth. She turns the box so that the pizza is facing me, then lifts it to offer me a slice. I take one and start to smile at her, but remember she ordered me not to. Instead, I take a bite of the pizza and start the car.

We don’t speak on the way back to campus. She’s finishing up her third slice when we pull into the parking spot next to her car. She takes a big swig of her soda, then closes the lid to the pizza and places the box in the back seat.

“Take the pizza with you,” I say, my words ripping a hole through the silence and tension built up between us.

She places her drink in the cup holder and pulls off my baseball cap, smoothing back her hair. “I can’t,” she says quietly. “He’ll wonder where I got it.”

She shifts her body toward me and reaches between us into the back seat to grab her backpack. She faces forward again and tucks her backpack underneath her arms.

“I would thank you for lunch but it pretty much ruined my day,” she says. She opens the car door and rushes out before I can process her words. When her door slams behind her, I kill the engine and get out of the car.

“Sloan!” I rush around my car until I reach her. She throws her backpack inside and shuts her back door. She opens the driver’s side door and uses it as a barrier between us.

“Don’t, Carter,” she says, refusing to look up at me. “You made your point, but I’m too pissed to listen to apologies right now.”

She can tell me not to apologize all she wants, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting her get in that car before I say my piece.

“I’m sorry,” I say anyway. “I shouldn’t have said those things. You didn’t deserve that. But …” I shake my head. “You’re better than this, Sloan. Give yourself some credit and get the hell away from him.”

She refuses to look at me when I speak, so I run my hand under her chin and tilt her face up. She darts her eyes to the right, still stubbornly refusing to make eye contact. I squeeze between her door and my car and make my way around until she’s directly in front of me. I take her face in both hands, desperate for her to look at me. I need her to listen to what I have to say.

“Look at me,” I plead, keeping a gentle hold on her face until she finally makes eye contact. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

She continues to keep her eyes locked on mine while a lone, thick tear trickles down her cheek. She wipes it away with the back of her hand before I have a chance to.

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