Love Me One More Time by Laura Burton

Chapter 10

We spend the next two hours smiling, kissing cheeks, shaking hands, and repeating imaginary wedding plans to Carter’s grandma. We’re all shouting over the music and waving to little kids as they run past.

Finally, Carter and I take seats at the bar and order drinks.

After her performance, I gave my mom a congratulatory hug. She gave me a sheepish smile and admitted she’s been taking piano lessons for the past five years. Her confession didn’t make me feel any better.

“I don’t get why this is such a big deal,” Carter says, sensing my thoughts.

I stare at the row of bottles on the shelf behind the bar and sigh. “I don’t know either,” I admit. “Maybe I’m just overwhelmed.”

Ever since Carter and I broke up, I’ve been running one hundred miles an hour. Even when I’m practicing yoga, my brain is racing through thought after thought.

Lately, the endless train of thoughts has me knotted in a ball of confusion and stress.

There’s a pat on my back, and I look around, suddenly aware of applause.

“What?”

Carter lifts me up in one swoop and kisses me on both cheeks. “We won!”

“What?”

I’m thoroughly confused. Can’t a woman sit and overthink in peace these days? Carter carries me up to the stage.

“What’s going on?”

The penny drops when I see a massive hamper on stage in a suit and shiny shoes. The hamper head speaks with George’s voice. “Carter and Zoe, congratulations on winning this year’s family talent show!”

Who judged the acts? Because there’s no way our goofy dance was the best act of the night. The crowd starts yelling for an encore. Well, why not? I giggle. We won. We actually won. I can’t believe it. The excitement of the crowd is infectious.

Before I’m even fully aware, I’ve taken up position on stage with Carter. Our soundtrack starts playing again.

My body goes into autopilot. Every step of our routine pushes my worries further and further away until finally, nothing else matters but the stage and the music and Carter dancing with me.

Our performance is not as perfect as the first. Carter stumbles on a spin and my sequins get stuck on one of the buttons on his suit as he drops me from a lift. But we laugh heartily through every blunder; neither of us cares.

The audience cheers for us even louder than the first time. The outpouring of love from Carter’s family is like a wave that breaks over us. I can’t stop grinning.

After Carter and I accept our prize hamper, George asks when our wedding will be. Carter’s response makes my tummy do a backflip, and I’m not sure why.

“We’ll let you know soon, I promise,” he says. Then he kisses me on the cheek.

Carter takes the hamper, winks at me, and begins to walk off-stage. His wink feels like a call, so I follow him.

To my utmost relief, he leads me out of the busy hall and away from all the noise. My temples are throbbing. The crisp evening air slaps my face and legs like I’ve jumped into a lake in February.

Part of me is surprised that my mom didn’t try to stop us from leaving, but she was busy flirting with Redford at the bar. I wonder if that was part of Carter’s plan? Get my mom fixated on something––or someone––else so she lets us run around and do what we want?

If Carter is heading to the room, I shouldn’t go in there with him. Not when my emotions are raging like this. The sensible thing to do is run it off, come back clear-headed, take a cool shower and remind myself that all of this is just an act.

But in spite of the alarm bells going off in my head, I follow Carter across the courtyard to the main lobby. When we reach our room, he hands me the hamper, which I struggle to carry. “What’s in this thing? Bricks?”

Chuckling, Carter unlocks the door with a click. The door swings open with a squeal.

“Always cracking jokes, aren’t you?” He takes the hamper like it weighs nothing and I walk into our room, looking around like it’s my first time.

The plush white bedding is untouched, and there are rose petals all over our pillows. Carter sets the huge hamper down and gets to work on the straps. I look at him wistfully, outlining his side profile with my eyes and taking in all the new lines I haven’t seen before. There are now tiny strands of gray hair near his ears.

Carter’s look of concentration reminds me of all the times we would sit side by side in the school library with our laptops. He’d work on emails or his next paper and I’d pretend to study, but I spent most of the time staring at him.

He finally lifts the hamper lid. “Wow, I haven’t had Twizzlers in years,” he says. The hamper is a treasure trove of junk food and drinks.

“Who put this together? George?” I laugh.

On second thought, I don’t know why I expected caviar and fine wines. Besides his mom and aunts, Carter’s family are some of the most down-to-earth people I’ve ever met. The usual luxuries were always boring to them. They prefer the charm of normal food. As though the idea of being a normal person with a normal job is some sort of fantasy to be savored.

Carter turns to me. “Giant pretzel?”

I wave a hand and shake my head. I can’t remember the last time I ate bread. A giant pretzel feels like sacrilege.

“All right... Here. I know you’ll like this.” Carter unwraps a Hershey’s Kiss and motions for me to open my mouth. “Are you trying to feed me?” I ask, lifting a brow. But I open my mouth anyway and he pops the chocolate in. The gooey chocolate drop melts on my tongue. A moan of satisfaction escapes me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t feed you a grilled cheese sandwich.”

I almost choke on my own saliva. “Now look who’s coming out with all the jokes.”

We move to the bed because, let’s face it, it’s the most comfortable seat in the room. Carter is devouring a huge cookie and moaning with every bite. “We’ve already broken two rules, you know,” I point out. Carter fakes surprise. “Only two? I thought we’d have gone through more than that by now.”

I shuffle a little closer to him. “You did?”

Does he remember one of the rules was no kissing?

Carter finishes his cookie and sucks on the tips of his fingers one by one. I clear my throat to stop my mind from wandering. I figure he’s dropped a few hints and it won’t hurt to make a move, but just as I lean in to close the space between us, Carter rises to his feet and heads for the wash basin across the room.

Way to go, ZoBo.

To say I’m embarrassed is an understatement. I take a deep breath to ground myself. What was I thinking anyway?

Carter, meanwhile, is now washing his hands with his back to me and I can’t help but notice the firm, round swell of his buttocks. It’s a ten even in those ridiculous sequin pants.

He dries his hands and returns to the bed. “Well, I know it’s wise to set boundaries,” he says. “What we’re doing is very dangerous.”

I lean toward him again. His plump bottom lip has my name written all over it. “So we’re in agreement that this game we’re playing is…”

“Like playing with fire?” Carter finishes for me. “Absolutely.” He picks up a lock of my hair and starts to play with it.

“We should stick to the rules, then. You know, if we don’t want to get burnt,” I say. I’m whispering now, for some reason. And fully invested in staring at his mouth.

“Right,” Carter’s lips say. “But then…”

“What?” I ask, holding my breath. There’s no sweet, forgetful grandma in this room. No family members hiding in the shadows...

No one knows what we’re doing, so there’s no reason to keep pretending.

Carter holds the back of my neck in one firm hand and drags his thumb across my jaw until I roll my head back and shudder with delight under his touch. It’s been years since a man held me like this. Since he held me like this.

Carter’s stubble grazes my cheek when he moves to whisper in my ear.

“It’s like the old saying goes… Rules are made to be broken.”