Taboo Read online

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just committing all of this to memory.”

  “Um…why?”

  “For later. Ryan won’t know what hit him.” She opens one eye and takes a peek at Carter walking across the field. “Yep, it’s going to be epic. I may finally get that diamond out of this one.”

  “Gross,” I laugh and push her on her shoulder. We climb down the bleachers and wait among the other spectators for the team to leave the field. I whisper to Finley, “I think most of these are girlfriends or something.”

  “And friends,” she says pointedly. “Because why would Carter invite you to something only girlfriends go to.”

  “Shut up,” I say. I hold up my jacket. “I’m going to go put this in the car, okay.” I don’t admit I have a bottle of Gatorade in there for Carter, too.

  I’m locking up my car when I overhear two girls going to the vehicle next to mine. It’s a convertible, with the top down.

  “Damn he’s hot.”

  “I know. Too bad he’s a lost cause.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nancy thinks he’s gay.”

  “He’s not gay. He had sex with Sarah after the fall formal. And Cathy said she fooled around with him after one of the football games.”

  “That was months ago. Mitch said he’s been celibate or something for months.”

  “Mark thinks anyone who’s not humping like a rabbit is celibate.”

  “No really,” the girl says with a laugh. “Something happened a couple months ago and he just lost all interest in girls.”

  “Maybe he has a secret girlfriend.”

  “Or boyfriend.” They both giggle.

  “Whatever it is, it’s too bad. He’s incredible.”

  “Sarah said he’s good, too. Like really good.”

  “Damn.”

  They start the car and pull away without a glance in my direction. Why should they? I probably look like someone’s mom out here. I walk back to the field. Obviously, they were talking about Carter. Who else could it be? And the no sex thing? I think back knowing good and well that it lines up to when we started seeing one another again.

  I push all this to the back of my mind, because he and Finley are walking toward me. His cleats swing from his finger tips and he’s still not wearing a shirt and God, it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen his body. I fight the natural reaction I have, which is to jump him right here.

  Why does he do this to me?

  “Great game.” I give him the bottle of Gatorade and a hug. He smells like grass and sweat.

  “Thanks,” he says. “They were pretty tough.”

  “Yeah, sure. You guys killed it.”

  A group of guys from the team start piling in a couple cars and Carter nods in their direction. A couple of them check us out. “We’re going back to shower and then going to O’Riley’s. Can you come?”

  “I’ve got plans with Ryan tonight,” Finley says, winking. I roll my eyes. “But thanks for asking.”

  “Ruthie?”

  “Ehhh…” I hedge, I look at Finley for help but she’s suddenly very interested in her nails.

  “Please?”

  Like I can say no to that. I’m already half dazed by his chest and the testosterone wafting off his body and the stuff the girls said by the car. “Okay, I’ll come. But I’m not buying you beer or anything.”

  “Like I need an ID to get beer,” he says, giving me a seductive face that probably works on every barmaid in town. “Meet me there at nine.”

  “Okay,” I say watching him head toward the other guys.

  “Don’t back out,” he calls.

  “I won’t.”

  Finley and I hop in my car and she says, “You think this is a good idea?”

  “Nope,” I say, turning the key. “I think it’s the dumbest idea ever.”

  *

  I wait until nine-thirty to go to the bar. Not because I’m avoiding anything but sitting around a bunch of college kids would be bad enough but sitting alone is definitely be worse. I’m hoping he’ll get there before me.

  He’s doesn’t, but a couple of the guys from his team are squeezed into a booth and they recognize me. “Ruthie, right?” one calls to me over the music. I smile and he waves me over. “I’m Mitch, Carter’s roommate.”

  Mitch—the one who thinks Carter is celibate.

  I sit at the table and they pour me a beer from their pitcher. Mitch, Andrew, Caleb…and a couple of others. I don’t catch their names. “He’ll be here in a minute,” Mitch said. “He told us to look out for you.”

  “Great game,” I tell them and this leads them into reenactments and play-by-plays. I don’t mind because at least I can follow the conversation.

  “How do you know Carter?” Andrew—no Caleb asks, after they run out of stories.

  “Um…,” I falter. I’ve never had to answer that question—no one ever knew about us. Not that we’re an ‘us’.

  “We worked together last year,” Carter says, nudging me with his hip and I slide further into the booth. “Ruthie’s in grad school. Physical therapy.”

  “Right.”

  “Sure.”

  “Uh huh,” they all mumble, reconciling my presence at the school, in Carter’s life and why I’m invited to this table.

  “Whatever,” Mitch says. “I think she’s your good luck charm.” He turns and smiles at me. “Now you’ll have to come to all the games next season.”

  Carter and I are pressed in close, closer than we’ve been in a long, long time. He smells so clean and delicious, I feel a little light headed. Being friends with Carter is hard. I just have to remind myself he’s worth it.

  “I’m going to get us another pitcher,” Carter says, leaving me alone with the guys again. Thankfully, the rest follow him out of the booth to go shoot pool. Everyone but Mitch.

  We sit in awkward silence until he says, “It all makes sense now.”

  I tilt my head. “What makes sense?”

  “Carter. It’s like all the pieces of the Carter Hightower puzzle fell into place.”

  I search across the bar until I find him, speaking to the bartender. He’s wearing jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, his favorite color. The shirt stretches just right over his shoulders and he looks over and gives me a quick smile.

  “What pieces?” I ask.

  “Half the fraternity thinks he’s gay. The other half is convinced he’s Batman or something. He’s quiet and keeps to himself a lot of the time, but when he shows up he pretty much owns the room. If he was more into it, he’d be pledge president for sure.”

  “Aqua-Man,” I correct.

  “What?”

  “If Carter was a superhero he would be Aqua-Man.”

  Mitch gives me a weird look but continues. “Well, he’s got that missing element. Some kind of mystery or something which kind of leans toward the Batman theory, I guess. He’s sort of unsettled?” I don’t like where this is going, but I can’t stop listening either. “Then today you showed up in the bleachers and BAM! I figured it out.”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “No?” he lifts an eyebrow.

  Carter returns to the table with two pitchers of beer. Mitch promptly takes one and heads over to the pool table with the other guys.

  “Your friends are nice,” I tell him while he refills my glass.

  “They’re pretty cool. None of them said anything douchey to you did they?”

  “No, everyone was totally non-douchey.”

  “Good,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Thanks for coming today, I appreciate it.”

  “Of course, that’s what friends are for right? Cheering you on?”

  “Right.” He takes another drink and runs his hand over his face. “So, friends. That’s what this is?”

  I nod, not trusting my mouth.

  “Because I don’t want to be friends, Ruthie. That title isn’t working for me.”

  “Wait? Why? What happened? What’s wrong?”

  He gives me a hard look and says, “Nothing happened, not really. I just saw you up there with the other girlfriends today and it made me so happy. Proud that you were there to support me. Then I saw you walking across that field in that tight little shirt and those ridiculous cut-offs and I wanted to tear them off. And right now,” he says. Leaning close to my ear, running his fingers over my bare shoulder. “You’re wearing that dress and I can see all your skin. I’ve tried so hard to play by the rules—whatever they are. To just be friends? I wanted to make it work because I thought I’d rather have you in my life than not at all.”

  “But?” I definitely feel a ‘but’ coming.

  “But as happy as you make me, you also make me miserable. Not being able to touch you is the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do.” He drains the rest of his drink and slides out of the booth, leaving me, slack-jawed and confused.

  The worst part of this is that he’s right. I feel exactly the same way except for some reason I’m holding all the cards. I’m keeping us apart. But I’m also doing the appropriate thing, right? Taking the high road and letting this kid have his life and not cementing myself as a perverted, cradle-robber.

  “Where’d he go?” Mitch asks, standing over the table with an empty beer pitcher in his hand.

  “He left I guess,” I say, gathering my bag and sweater. “He’s pissed at me.”

  He looks at the expression on my face and says, “Oh Jesus. Don’t break his heart.”

  That’s it.

  I’m done.

  “What did you say?” I snap. In a low voice I say, “Did you suggest that I’m going to break his heart? Well, what about mine? I fell in love with a kid ten years younger than me and it’s totally fucked up my life.”

>   “Why? Because you’re older? Dude, no one cares.”

  “Of course they do.”

  “No, they don’t,” he counters. “You’re smoking hot, obviously smart and Carter’s fucking nuts about you. Who gives a shit?”

  I fight a comeback, simply growling at Mitch in response. I’m halfway to the back door when he shouts out, “You’re a little scary, too!”

  Dammit. Fuck. Shit, hell, motherfuckingohmygod. How did this turn out this way? How did a stupid summer fling turn into this thing?

  Looking for the exit, I charge full force down the narrow back hallway, slamming straight into Carter. It’s like déjà vu and my palms land flat on his chest, while he reaches out to steady my shoulders.

  This time though, he drops his hands like he’s touching fire and I apologize, “Sorry.”

  Carter turns and storms off, his fists balled at his sides. He’s pissed but so am I. I race to catch up and grab him by the arm. We’re going to have this out now, one way or the other. “Carter!” I yell, pulling him back.

  He stops, but only because he wants to. There’s no way I can physically make him do anything. Carter drops his head in defeat. “What do you want, Ruthie?”

  What do I want?

  That’s really the question here.

  I step closer to him so I don’t have to raise my voice against the loud bar noises. “I want to talk to you.”

  “There’s nothing left to say.”

  I swallow and take his hand, still balled tight in a fist. Slowly, one by one, I unclench his fingers. “I’m sorry, okay? Like really sorry, and I’m an idiot, and…” I bite my lip but I’ve finally gotten his attention. “I thought when I started this that I was going to ruin you. Take your virtue and rock your world. I thought I’d shake up my life and get a fresh start on a new life but I didn’t. I ruined both of us—to the point that neither of us knows what to do without the other.”

  I stare at his sweet face. His beautiful, kind face and I realize I have to say it.

  I must say it.

  “I love you.”

  The words hang in the air and all I can hear is my heartbeat and the twangy sound of Lynard Skynard on the juke box. Carter grabs my face with both hands and tips my chin upward.

  “What did you say?”

  His grip is tight, panicked, and I repeat what I said between mashed cheeks. “I love you.”

  His whole body relaxes and sinks into mine. I feel his mouth covering my own and like that I’ve forgotten what we’ve been struggling against, why we ever stopped doing this.

  My fingers twist into his shirt, tugging him closer. All I want is to be near him, to taste his skin. “I’ve been struggling, too. Trying to find some kind of balance where we can be friends, but it’s impossible. Because I love you. How do you fight that?”

  “You can’t.”

  “You know I have no will power.”

  “You have really shitty willpower,” he laughs, kissing me again.

  “Carter,” I breathe when he finally takes his tongue out of my mouth. “I don’t want you to think this is all about sex because it’s not. It is not all about sex. It’s about us and about being more than that, but seriously, I’m going to lose my shit if you don’t bang the hell out of me, right now.”

  He replies with a grin, the dirty one, that’s half smirk and half incredulous. The one he gave me when I sucked him off in the guard room during Adult Swim. He frantically looks both ways and at that moment the bathroom door swings open and two girls stumble out. He stops it with one hand. “This okay?”

  “Whatever, sure,” I tell him but I’m already in the room and he’s locked the door with a click.

  Carter lifts me on the sink and I force myself to focus on him and not our disgusting surroundings. That’s not much of a problem because his hands are on my dress and he pulls my top apart, forcing the row of tiny buttons between my breasts to clatter across the counter and onto the floor. He licks the flesh between them, while his hands push my skirt higher. “God I missed these,” he mumbles between my boobs.

  “They missed you too, babe,” I say, scratching at his belt buckle. Who the hell thought jeans were a good idea? Swim trunks make so much more sense. I finally get it unclasped, along with the button and zipper.

  And there it is. His cock, just like I remembered. Pink and hot. Big and trembling. Ready. Always ready.

  Carter moves my panties aside and slams in, my head banging against the mirror. “Oh,” I gasp, and he then he does it again and like someone turned on our song, I hear the rhythm of my head against the glass. Bang, bang, bang. “Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

  He’s pushed my breasts to the middle, sucking on both at once and it’s been so long, such a long time since anyone did it right, that my fingers tremble and shake against his neck.

  “Hold on,” he tells me and with weak arms I grip his shoulders. With his eyes closed, he slams into me twice, and comes with such force that I lift off the counter. Everything feels different this time. Warm and sticky, and I realize we didn’t use a condom, but I don’t care because I love him and he loves me and…

  Wait, he never said that he loves me.

  “Holy mother,” he exhales.

  I nod in return, unable to speak. He hands me a wad of paper towels while someone outside bangs on the door. “Give me a minute,” he shouts, which is hilarious because it’s the girl’s room. Carter sounds nothing like a girl and he’s currently wiping jizz off his cock.

  I start to laugh hysterically.

  Carter rolls his eyes and pushes my skirt up, gently wiping the spunk off my legs. I let him lift me off the counter and he checks my head. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, high from sex and him. “I love you.”

  Someone bangs on the door again but we both ignore them because he’s got his hands on my face and his lips on my mouth and just when I think I’ve gone crazy for screwing him in a filthy bar bathroom, he says what I’ve been waiting to hear, “I love you, too.”

  Epilogue

  “I’m scared.”

  “What are you scared of?” I ask, fixing her hair into two pigtails. We’re in the parking lot and Harper’s bathing suit straps are all twisted up. I turn her around to fix them. “It’s just like last year, there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

  “What if I forgot how to swim?”

  I shake my head at her five-year-old logic but get distracted when a car speeds into the parking lot, nearly taking out the basketball goal. I place my hands on my hips and shoot the driver a dirty look.

  “You’ll be fine and if you forget something just ask Carter, you know he’ll be happy to help you.”

  Content with that answer, she runs through the gate while I bend over to pick up the pool bag and the cooler.

  “You bend great, did you know that?”

  I smile. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Here, let me help.”

  His hand runs down my back and he picks up both the cooler and bag, slinging the former over his shoulder.

  “You really shouldn’t drive like that in the parking lot,” I scold. “You could hit someone.”

  “Sorry,” he says, apologizing with a kiss. “I was just excited to get here.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Really? That eager to get to work?”

  “Assistant coach? It’s a step up.”

  “I suppose,” I say, approaching the gate. “It gives you more time to spend with me, so I like it.”

  We share a goofy look, because we’re only weeks into this relationship thing. This public relationship thing, and I feel like I’m fifteen again. Carter takes the opportunity to hook a finger in my cover-up and pull it down.

  “Hey!” I shout, batting his hand away.

  “Just looking to see which suit you’re wearing.” He nods approvingly when he sees the black and red fabric. “You know how I feel about the cherry one.”

  I step through the gate and smile. “I know.”

  Carter slips his hand into mine and we walk past the Bikini Mom, who spots our linked fingers. Her mouth is open wide enough to catch flies. “This is going to be fun,” I whisper.

  We unload the bags and cooler at a table and I leave space for Finley. She’ll be here any minute loaded down with wedding magazines, invitation samples and swatches of fabric. She and Ryan got engaged a couple weeks ago, coincidentally, the night after Carter’s soccer game.

  I guess she earned that diamond after all.