Rain drowned her out, and her skin slicked from the heavy, sopping coat. An internal countdown. One Carolina two Carolina three Caro—
A light illuminated a window. Then a few seconds and the door opened.
Perdie froze. The woman from the video stood before her.
The woman tightened the knot on her bright floral silk robe. Her raven hair was mussed but still better than Perdie’s on a good day. She really was pretty. Maybe Perdie was the knockoff?
But adrenaline compelled momentum. She’d made it this far, time to bust the yellow tape. “Ahem. Can I talk to Carter?”
“Who’re you?”
“A ghost come to life.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
Perdie’s voice caught in her throat as Carter appeared behind the woman. He was shirtless, somehow more muscular than she’d remembered, and god help her, in her heightened state even now he sent an extra thrill to her toes. But also terror. Shirtless with this other woman.
“Perdie?” He rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing here? It’s two in the morning.”
She winced, futilely wiped at the slick skin on her cheek, then squeezed her eyes shut and let the words spew. “I only need forty-five seconds. Sixty tops. And if you won’t talk to me, then—then...” she sputtered. “I don’t even know what I’ll do. Have to go to therapy every single day? I’m already there three times a week.” Her eyes snapped back open, desperate.
Carter and the woman exchanged a concerned glance, but then he nodded. “Go to bed. I’ll take care of this.”
The woman’s features wrinkled, but then she shrugged and turned back into the house. “Say the word, and I’ll get the Taser.”
As soon as the door shut, Perdie blurted out, “Are you with that woman?”
Carter stepped beneath the protective overhang in front of the doorframe. Sprinkles of water decorated his eyelashes while Perdie stood drenched, uncovered.
“Give me your phone,” he ordered.
“Excuse me?”
“A timer. You’re lucky I’m giving you sixty seconds.” He held out his hand.
Perdie wasn’t used to this Carter. Stern Carter. Her jaw dropped at his audacity but in reality she was the audacious one turning up like a wet rat on his doorstep in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, in the middle of what might be a complete nervous breakdown. She dug into her sports bra and handed him the unlocked device.
“Lucille says you’re out of tampons.”
“Huh?” Was he making a joke?
But his stern expression remained, challenging. He tapped the screen a few times and held up the countdown display. “Well?”
She should’ve come prepared. A PowerPoint, maybe. Few index cards. But in the absence of a full TEDx speech, she’d have to speak from the heart. Shit. She stared blankly at that perfect face and those beautiful hazel eyes. They were smudged with dark shadows beneath. “Goddamn, you are so handsome.”
He shook his head. “Try again.”
She pointed her index finger with slow deliberation as truer words came to her. “But it’s not your looks that matter, looks fade, and... I...uhhh...okay, I fucked up. I’m a USDA grade A asshole. I freaked out and ran at the first sign of something real and it’s inexcusable because you’re amazing inside and out. There’re a million reasons why I want to be with you including but not limited to the fact that you’re handsome and amazing in bed.” She paused to redirect herself. “You’re also kind and funny and smart and were good with Bananas and I think Lucille would quite frankly love to put you in an oil painting. And you make me feel...you make me feel happy. Like a person deserving of a real relationship. The kind of relationship where you don’t cut and run at the first sign of conflict. The kind of relationship worth fighting for. Which, if we’re being honest, I don’t really know a good goddamn about. Fighting for something, that is. Pretty scary for a coward like me.”
When his Adam’s apple bobbed, she paused again, hoping he’d jump in and save her. Nope, keep going.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist, and she’s really got me on a self-reflection train...and...” She stuttered, the turbocharged energy with which she’d arrived dissipating.
The timer ticked on. “And?” he prompted.
“First stop: Apology Station...” She squeezed her palms until her nails dug into the flesh. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you. So much. I was wrong, about everything really.”
Carter pursed his lips, finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ve missed you too.”
“I want you, Carter. Back to the way we were. You and me. I won’t be a fuckup this time, I swear.”
Carter hung his head. “Do you think that’s what I want...to return to how things were? Keep playing the same old games?”
“Carter—” A loud boom exploded in the sky, and Perdie jerked, giving a little yelp. But before she could recover she was interrupted.
Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.
Both their gazes traveled to the screen and the zeroed-out timer.
“Time’s up.” He handed her the phone. “I think you should go.”
The inside of Perdie’s chest crumpled. Had she thought it would be so easy? No, Carter wanted more from her, he’d made that clear from the start. And that’s what she’d come with: more. And she was going to offer it up if it killed her, goddammit.
“You didn’t let me finish! Closing statements. Five more seconds. P-please.”
Carter crossed his arms, eyebrows lifted, as if to say well?
She dug inside her soaking coat pockets for a metal object and gestured for him to take it.
