Page 101 of The Naughty List

Mom smiles. “Well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it?”

I tilt my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s obvious he has a thing for you. He always has. I remember watching you two play as kids. I could see it then. He loved you. He would’ve done anything to protect you and he still would.”

“That’s another thing, Mom. I want him. Always have.” I feel embarrassed talking about this with my mom, but she doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“Does he know?”

After last night? “I’m sure he does.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“He’s afraid to screw up our friendship. He said that I’ve always been a constant in his life and he doesn’t know what he’d do if he screwed up our relationship and lost me as a friend.”

“So, he’s scared?”

Scared? Is Carson scared? He isn’t scared of anything.

“Honey, is he worth fighting for?”

“Yes,” I answer without question.

“Is your happiness worth fighting for?”

“Yes,” I tell her.

“Then don’t give up. He’s just afraid, honey. Just be patient with him. Guys are a little slow when it comes to this kind of thing.”

I smile. “Thanks, Mom.” I take a bite of my pancakes and savor it. Our conversation drops while we eat and it gives me time to think about all of this. I think back over our years of friendship. I was convinced at the age of seven that he was put on this earth for me. That he was mine and I just knew that one day, we’d grow up, fall in love, get married, have children, and live happily ever after. I held out hope that one day, he’d see what I had to offer him. I was in love with him growing up, and then when he left me here to go off to college, I thought I’d die without him. We talked often on the phone, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to see his face, see his eyes and that panty-dropping smile. I prayed for the day that he’d see me as a woman and not the child he grew up with. And when we kissed at his school, I thought it was a turning point.

It wasn’t. Things went backward actually. He wasn’t as free with me as he used to be. After that kiss something was holding him back. I remember telling him that “it depends” on which college I attended. Well, what it depended on was him. If he could see me as a woman, someone he wanted to be with, I would’ve gone to college in the city with him. But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed me away. I went home heartbroken from that trip. I cried nearly the whole way home. His rejection killed me.

Then I convinced myself that I didn’t love him. I mean, I loved him as a friend but that was it. I wasn’t in love with him. I told myself it was nothing more than a silly childhood crush, and that’s when I decided to go to school in South Carolina. I needed to be away from him and away from my feelings toward him. I told myself distance would do us some good, that I’d be able to meet new guys and move on. It took almost a whole year before I hooked up with someone else. To me, that was giving up. I was giving up hope that Carson and I would ever be together. I convinced myself that coming home would be no different. I wanted him, but it was more of a way of working him out of my system. He was an award that I wanted so bad I could taste. I just needed to sleep with him.

But seeing him again, it’s bringing back all those old feelings. I’m so confused. I don’t know if I’m in love with him or if being back here is just making me feel that way. But I know one thing, I want him. At least for one night, and I won’t stop until I get it because now I know he wants it too.

I help Mom clean up breakfast and I head back to my room to get ready for the day. When I get to my room, I grab my phone and move to the vanity to fix my hair and makeup. I’m searching through YouTube for something to watch or listen to while I get ready and a text comes in.

Carson: Good morning, sweetheart.

Ugh. Sweetheart? Really? After last night?

Felicity: Who you calling sweetheart?

I put the phone down and grab my moisturizer to slather on my face. This cold air is sucking all the moisture out of my skin already. I’m waiting for a text, but it rings instead. I answer it and put it on speakerphone so my hands stay free.

“Hello?”

“Are you mad at me?” Carson asks.

“Hmmmm, why would I be mad at you? It couldn’t be because you promised me a good time and ended up bringing me home at ten thirty, could it? It couldn’t be because you got my hopes up and then brought me home, right? Or it couldn’t be those texts you sent last night?” I lean down to the phone and whisper, “That isn’t cool, Carson. I can’t take care of business with my mother sleeping across the hall.”

He busts out laughing. “What do you mean, take care of business?”

“Let’s just say that there is a wet spot on my sheet that I’m hoping dries soon or this will be a weird topic on laundry day.”

That makes him laugh harder and that sound causes goosebumps to prickle my skin.

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