Consider Me (Playing For Keeps Book 1)

Consider Me: Chapter 29



CARTER

I’VE BEEN SITTING in the same place for the last thirty-seven minutes. Not that I’m counting or anything. I shouldn’t be surprised. This is the norm in this household and has been my entire life.

But still, I groan, running two aggravated hands through my hair before dragging them down my face in slow motion.

“Mommm, come onnn,” I beg, slumping against the couch. “Let’s gooo.”

“I’m not done putting my face on, Carter!” she shouts back.

“You don’t need a face. Your face is perfect.” I’d tell her she was Beyoncé right now if it’d get her ass out here. Except I’ve tried; it doesn’t work.

Flopping down, I throw one leg over the back of the couch, the other resting on the floor. “I don’t understand why you can’t be ready when you tell me you’ll be ready.”

Mom is famously late for everything. Jennie’s bad, too, but Mom is on a whole other level. Dad used to throw her over his shoulder and cart her out of the house, which is precisely why I told her Jennie’s recital starts at five, not 5:30 like it actually does. A little white lie goes a long way in ensuring we’re on time for absolutely anything that requires leaving the house.

“And I don’t understand why you still expect me to be ready when I tell you I’m going to be! You should know me better by now.”

She sticks her head into the living room. She’s got mascara on her left eye only, making it look ten times bigger than the right. I make a face and cower away. She rolls her eyes and flips me the bird but drops her mascara wand in the process.

“Karma,” I murmur, earning myself a flick to the forehead and a tug on my ear. I swat my hand around, but she runs down the hall, cackling.

One more minute,” she sings.

I sigh because I don’t believe her. Pulling out my phone, I do what I’ve been avoiding for the last hour: open my messages with Olivia.

I haven’t heard from her since lunchtime, and her message then included a massive thank-you, a shit ton of hearts and happy faces, and then a picture of the empty tray of pasta, finished with a picture of her licking an Oreo. That last picture is now her contact picture.

But she finished work at three and I still haven’t heard from her. I’m dying to know if she found the gifts I left her yet.

I lay my phone on my chest and fold my arms behind my head, crossing my feet at my ankles. If I have to spend my days waiting on women, I might as well get comfy.

My eyes pop open when my phone starts vibrating on my chest. The picture of Olivia licking her cookie shines on my screen and I scramble up to sitting.

“Hi, Ollie girl.” I flash her my best grin but it quickly transforms into a frown at her sad expression. “What’s wrong? Kids got you down?”

There’s a crash somewhere behind me, and three seconds later my mom comes skidding into the living room, breathless, both eyes finally done. She points at my phone and mouths Olivia? It’s Olivia? Then she jumps up and down, covering her mouth with both hands.

She’s fifty-two, in case anyone’s wondering whether my mom is, in fact, an adult.

I smoosh my phone into my chest. “Really? That’s what gets your ass out the door?”

She only grins, settling on the floor, legs crossed as she stares up at me with wide, innocent eyes. She’s unbelievable and so, so nosy.

“No,” Olivia says into my chest. I pull my phone back to find her rubbing at one eye. “Well, not really. Your typical short jokes and all that.” She waves dismissively before sighing, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at her lap. “Carter. We have to talk.”

“Uh-oh,” I muse with a chuckle. “Someone’s in trouble.” I balk at the unimpressed look on her face. “That was stupid. I don’t know why I said that. It’s me. I’m in trouble.”

I’m lucky Olivia finds my goofiness endearing, because at least I get the twitch of her mouth when she tries not to smile. I count it a win, like I do every time she fails at being mad at me. But I want to see that full beam, feel the way it lights me up like sunshine.

So I pull my dimples in and try again. “You look gorgeous. So gorgeous. Flawless, really, but you always are.” I gesture at my hair before popping my chin on my knuckles. “Did you do something new to your hair? Suits you. You’re the best girlfriend out of all the girlfriends I’ve ever had. My favorite.”

Those mocha eyes narrow dangerously before Olivia tips forward with a laugh. My mom’s bouncing around on her ass, hands clasped beneath her chin. I hold my foot out, trying to shove her away. It doesn’t work; she’s too persistent.

“I’m the only girlfriend you’ve ever had,” Olivia manages through a giggle.

“Right.” Charming grin? Check. “’Cause you’re my favorite.”

Her eye roll is one of my favorite things about her, because I love her sass, her feistiness. Olivia works so damn hard to keep that oversensitive side tucked inside, but I see it.

“Why is my house so warm?” she finally asks, playing with that plump lower lip.

I run a palm over my proud, puffed-up chest. “I’m sure I’d have no idea about that.”

She blinks up at me. “Carter, you bought me a furnace.”

My mom becomes a cat, clawing at my legs, nails digging in hard enough to warrant a silent scream from me as I hide my phone and keel over, pushing her off me.

“Furnace?” Mom whisper-yells. “You bought her a furnace?” She claps her hands ten thousand times. “I knew you’d be a giant suck!”

“Shut up,” I hiss, tossing a pillow at her face. She dodges it, picking it up and clutching it to her chest while she grins like a fool. She’s way too invested in my love life.

I turn back to Olivia. It’s a mistake. Or maybe the furnace was a mistake.

“Oh shit.” Those brown eyes turn the most interesting shade of hazel, shining with hints of gold and mossy sage as they widen and fill with tears. “Baby, no. Please don’t cry. Why are you crying?” There’s nothing I can do to help Olivia when she’s stuck inside my phone, and my mom clearly thinks it’s hilarious. “I don’t know what to do. Are you okay? Do you need me to come over? Help me,” I beg my beautiful, sensitive girl.

“I can’t afford to pay you back right now,” Olivia cries, swatting at her cheeks. She buries her face behind a couch cushion when her tears don’t slow. “I’ll set up a payment plan,” I think she mumbles. Hard to tell when she’s smothering her face like that.

My mom’s rocking back and forth on the ground, clapping at my knees. I love her, she mouths. I push her away with my hand on her face.

“I don’t want or need you to pay me back. It’s a gift. And take that pillow off your face.”

Olivia rips it away. “A gift for what? It’s not Christmas! And you got me a Christmas gift and I got you nothing! I ran out on you!”

“Birthday?” I try. It’s a little too early to claim Valentine’s Day, but the birthday card is weak as hell. I distinctly remember Olivia telling me she turned twenty-five in October.

“My birthday’s in October!” She’s crying harder now.

Definitely would’ve been better off claiming early Valentine’s Day.

“I wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to give you something you weren’t able to give yourself right now. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being so cold.”

She wipes the back of her hand across her eyes, hiccupping.

“If your cute little toes froze off, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you for your money.”

“I don’t know how I could possibly think that. It’s a gift. Just accept it.”

“Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

She should probably get used to it, ’cause I think I’m gonna spoil the shit out of her.

“I didn’t want you to be so cold, pumpkin.”

She melts at the nickname, cheeks tinting crimson, finally granting me that smile I’ve been dying for. “Thank you so much, Carter. I…you’re…I want to hug you,” she finally settles on.

“Oh my God!” Mom shouts out, collapsing dramatically onto her back. She springs off the floor and pounces on me. “I can’t help it! She’s adorable!”

Mom!”

A power struggle promptly ensues as she tries to steal my phone. An elbow soars through the air, hammering me in the nose as she throws herself over my lap and grabs for my phone.

“I just…wanna…say…hi! Gimme the phone, Carter!”

“Get your grabby hands outta here!”

I manage to get a hold of one flail-y arm and pin it behind her back. She huffs out a heavy breath, blowing her bangs off her forehead with her famous mom-scowl. The anxious giggle coming from my phone has both of our heads turning to find Olivia watching us with curious amusement.

“I was hoping to hold off on the crazy train introductions a little longer,” I tell her, wincing when my mom flicks me in the temple. “You already met Hank; it’s only a matter of time before someone scares you away.”

Mom gasps, freeing her hand from mine to press it to her chest. “You introduced her to Hank before me?” She jerks my phone out of my hand and smiles softly. “Hi, Olivia. It’s so wonderful to meet you, even if it’s only over the phone.”

“Hi, Mrs. Beckett,” Olivia says with a bashful, wobbly smile. “I’m sorry. What a terrible first impression. I’m not usually this emotional.”

My accidental snort earns me another glare, this one from my girlfriend.

“Don’t worry, honey.” Mom thumbs at me. “This one cried at every single Disney movie. He’s always been a big softie.”

“Anyone who didn’t cry when that old lady drove Tod out to the forest and left him there is a monster.”

I don’t know how it happens, but not a minute later my mom’s already asked Olivia what her plans are for Easter and if she’ll be joining us on our family trip to Greece this summer.

“Okay, Mom, say byyye.” I don’t give her a chance to do so, grabbing the phone from her hand and locking myself in the bathroom. Sinking down to the edge of the tub, I run a hand along my jaw. “So, that just happened.”

Olivia snickers. “If your family had a TV show, I’d watch it.”

“We’d be the next Kardashians, and I’d be Kim, obviously.” I smile at the way her eyes crinkle with her laugh. “Are you upset with me? About the furnace? Maybe I didn’t think it through.”

When I woke up alone earlier this morning, my nipples were sharp enough to cut ice, my balls trying their damnedest to crawl up inside me. I had a heating company on the phone six minutes later and paid an obscene amount of money to get them out there today. I couldn’t help myself; the thought of Olivia so cold in her own home doesn’t sit right with me. I want to take care of her however I can and I’m lucky enough to be in a situation that allows me to do that.

“I’m not upset with you, Carter. I’m just shocked. First lunch, and then the flowers and the note, and now this. It’s such a big gift. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back? I can put aside a little from each paycheck and—”

“No way. From me to you. That’s what a gift is.”

She sniffles and I’m worried she’s going to cry again. I’m not good with tears. They make me feel helpless and overwhelmed.

“Thank you so much, Carter. I’m sorry I wrote you off when we first met.”

“Don’t be.” I’d be lying if I said I wish she hadn’t. We could’ve been screwing like rabbits and loving on each other all this time. “Things happen the way they do for a reason. If you hadn’t shot me down, this here might not have been. I might’ve had you once and let you go.” Though I highly doubt it. “I already can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Her bottom lip does an almost imperceptible tremble. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Being so…” She winds her hand in a circular motion like she’s searching for the right word. “Perfect.”

Oh, hello. My chest puffs with pride. “That’s why they call me. Mr. Perfect.”

My favorite chocolate eyes do a dramatic roll. “You’re lucky your cuteness overrides your smugness.”

“You make me feel smug.” My phone buzzes with my warning, the one that tells me I need to get my mom’s ass in gear. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I gotta get going. Call you tonight?”

She nods. “I’m gonna go through my closet and throw out all my holey sweats and long johns now that I’m not living in the tundra.”

I head to the front door where my mom’s putting her shoes on, thank fuck. “That’s cool. You’re not gonna need them anymore anyway. We’re gonna sleep naked so I can touch you all night long.”

“Oh, Carter, for heaven’s sakes.” Mom frowns, hands on her hips. “Can’t you keep it sweet for more than two minutes?”

“You said that in front of your mom?” Olivia buries her face behind one hand. “Carter!”

I wink. “Bye, pumpkin pie. Like you lots.”

Her blush amps all the way up to ten before she mumbles out her response, and when I click my phone off and shove it in my pocket, my mom’s giving me the heart eyes.

I slip my feet into my boots. “Can I help you?”

“Pumpkin pie?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You have nicknames for your girlfriend.”

I grunt in response.

Mom pokes my chest. “Don’t grunt at me.”

I grunt again just to piss her off, except it has the opposite effect and now she’s got this little smirk glued to her face, one pretty damn similar to mine.

“Carter loves his girlfriend, Carter loves his girlfriend,” she sings.

Tipping my head back, I force out an exhale that lasts a solid ten seconds. “All right. That’s enough with you. I’m pulling a Dad.”

“Carter, don’t you d—ah!” Her shriek turns into a fit of giggles when I haul her off her feet and toss her over my shoulder like she’s a sack of potatoes, the way my dad always did, her laugh the same. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you, too, crazy lady.”

“I can’t stand him.”

“Carter.” My name is a flashing caution sign on my mom’s tongue. “Watch it.”

I throw one hand up, gesturing at the way that douchebag is handling my little sister. “I hate the way he touches her. Like he fucking owns her or something.”

Mom smacks me in the torso. “They’re dancing.”

“Not anymore! The show ended thirty minutes ago!” I plaster on a fake smile as Jennie and her dance partner move through the crowd toward us. As soon as she’s close enough, I yank her out of his grasp, enveloping her in my arms. “You were awesome, Jennie.”

Mom rocks her back and forth in a suffocating hold, and the second she releases her, Jennie’s partner swoops back in, wrapping his stupid arm around her waist. Jennie watches the way my gaze zeroes in on his hand on her stomach and snickers before clearing her throat and stepping away from Mr. Twinkle Toes.

“Wasn’t she beautiful out there tonight, Carter?” Douchebag Simon says to me.

“She always is.” Stepping between them, I angle her away from him. “You should go solo.”

“I had a solo performance in the first half.” Jennie squeezes my hand in warning. “Remember?”

“Yeah, but permanently. You should ditch pairs.” I lean into her, whispering, “Jerkwad’s bringing you down.”

She pretends to hug me. “You just hate him.”

“You’re damn right I do,” I accidentally say too loud. I twist back to Simon. “Who you hooking up with tonight, Steve?” Olivia thinks I’m sweet but I’m kind of a dick sometimes. If I don’t like you. And I don’t like Simon, which is why I sometimes, occasionally, call him by the wrong name. He fucks every girl he dances with and he’s had his sights set on my sister for four years.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replies with a smile so self-assured I want to punch it off his face.

“I have a girlfriend.”

“Right. So I’ve heard.” He checks his fingernails. “Can’t be all that serious, knowing your history.”

My jaw ticks as I speak through my teeth. “It’s serious.”

“Okay.” Jennie claps her hands. “I’m starving. Dinner?”

“Would you like to join us, Simon?” Mom asks, then refuses to meet my scowl.

“Oh, I’d love—”

No!” Jennie cuts him off. I love Jennie. She smiles sweetly at him. “Not tonight, Simon. I’d like some alone time with my family.”

The smirk I hit him with is smugger than it’s ever been, and I loop my arm through my sister’s and pull her away, leaving Simon standing there like an idiot with his jaw hanging.

“As much as I love this macho, overprotective brother bullshit,” Jennie starts, “I’d prefer you didn’t kill my dance partner before I graduate.”

“Is he free rein after graduation?” I ask semiseriously, leading my mom and sister through the parking garage.

“I couldn’t care less what you do to Simon Syphilis once I’ve got my degree in my hand.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Mom shakes her head. “You two are ridiculous.”

I know I definitely am, because when I drop them off two hours later and am alone in my car, I’m in the same position I was in last night after I got off the plane. Drumming my fingers on the heated steering wheel, I hesitate for only a moment before I throw the car in gear and head in the opposite direction of where I’m supposed to be going.

Ten minutes later, I’m standing in front of Olivia’s dark, quiet house. I should probably call her but instead I raise the key she left me this morning to the door and stick it in the lock. It creeks as it opens and I step inside, quickly shutting out the cold. A dim light flicks on from her bedroom down the short hallway.

“Hello?” Olivia’s hesitant voice calls. It’s followed by a scuffle, a loud bang, and then a quiet fuck me. Five seconds later, she pokes her head out of the doorway from her spot on the floor. The brightest beam blooms when she spots me. “Carter.”

“What are you doing on the floor, crazy girl?” I help her to her feet, smiling at the blanket that’s tangled between her legs. I don’t know what in the hell she’s doing to keep getting wrapped in this thing that refuses to let go. Kinda feels like a good euphemism for how I feel about holding onto her.

She flings her arms around me and smashes her face into my chest. “I didn’t know you were coming over again.”

“Neither did I,” I admit, stroking a hand down her curls. She rests her chin on my chest and I drop my lips to her nose. “Kinda just happened. Again.”

“Are you sure you’re not here to return my key?”

“Nope.” I swing her up into my arms. “Thought I’d check on the new furnace. And your new bedtime outfit, apparently.” Dropping her to the bed, I trail one finger down her thigh, stopping at her ankle. She’s in only a pair of purple boy short panties and a loose T-shirt that shows off one creamy shoulder. “I’m a big fan.”

I tug my clothes off and climb into bed behind her. Slipping a hand beneath her shirt, I cover her warm stomach and inhale her smell. She’s my favorite scent, like the Sunday mornings my mom used to spend baking muffins for our school lunches. She smells like the most intoxicating version of home, and I’m addicted to the feeling that comes with it.

“You must know you’re never getting that key back. It’s mine now. Already on my ring.”

“You can have it,” she whispers as I pull her shirt over her head.

“Good, ’cause I wasn’t asking.”

My fingers dip into her panties, making her moan, and her hair tickles my skin.

“You never ask for anything,” she rasps, bucking against my hand as I push two fingers inside her.

“Nah, only for you to be mine.”

Her hand curves over my nape as she angles her face toward mine, begging for a kiss. I give it to her, because I always will. “I’m yours.”

My mouth tilts as I look down at my stunning girl. Her eyes squeeze shut with a moan as I sink inside her. Taking her chin between my fingers, I silently beg her to look at me again. The feeling that floods my chest and overwhelms my entire body when she does is dizzying.

Olivia’s soft lips meet my chin, trailing up my jaw until she finds the corner of my mouth. “My heart’s never felt as happy as it does right now.”

Her words tumble tenderly off her tongue, and I empty everything I have into this woman my heart beats for.


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