Friend is a Four Letter Word

Shayna

Carter is pacing the length of his apartment when I push through the front door.

His back straights and his head snaps to attention when he hears me.

"Your parents doing okay?" he asks, those dark eyes zeroing in on me like lasers.

"Everyone's good," I say. I want to ask if he and I are good. I don't know how things went from so perfect to so ugly a few hours later. I ended up telling my parents that I'm moving in with Carter like I had planned to do before our argument. After this year, they deserved to hear something like that in person—especially because their faith doesn't necessarily agree with my decision. They tried to sound accepting, even though I know it was a little disappointing to them. I hope that it was the right decision to tell them—I hope it ends up being worth it.

"Is it okay that I let myself in? You gave me a key and I—"

Carter rushes to my side before I can finish, folding me in his arms, kissing my forehead, and pressing my hair back over and over again. I'm caught off guard, but rather than question this, I press my body tight to his, arching against him and moaning low in the back of my throat.

"Thank God you're home," he says, his lips brushing my cheeks, my lips, his hands frantic over my body like he's checking to see if I'm broken.

I nod lightly, dizzy from his touch, his lips. I can barely form the words I need to explain. "I'm sorry I ran out like that. It was just—"

"I know. He pushes the coat from my shoulders and tosses it on the back of the couch, grabbing my hips and pulling me tight to him, so I fit snug against his body. "No more running?" he growls.

"No more running." I shake my head and look at him, his incredibly handsome face flushed with worry. For me. Because he wanted me to be here, with him. For the first time in my life, I just want to stop pacing.

I'm where I want to be and standing still doesn't scare me.

"I'm sorry about the Nolan thing. Jesus," he runs a hand through his hair and presses his forehead against mine, speaking softly into my hair. "I don't know why it bothered me so much."

"It's okay," I whisper, moving my hands up and down his back, tightly muscled through his thin cotton shirt.

He pulls back, and his eyes shine with a ferocity that would kind of freak me out if I didn't know Carter. If I didn't know how intensely he feels, how passionate he is about the things he cares about.

I feel beyond lucky to be someone he cares about. His love is the kind you can rely on to protect you forever.

He runs his hands down to take mine and threads our fingers together. "It's not. And I lied. I know exactly why it bothered me so much. I know that he—"

I press my index finger to his mouth and lock eyes with him. "Don't say it. It's not true."

Carter swallows hard. I hope he's swallowing the thought. The words. The idea that he isn't good enough for me. That I belong with someone like Nolan.

It's not true. I've never been so sure about what's true and what's false, what's right and what's wrong as I am right now, in Carter's arms.

"I belong here. With you," I say, my voice shaking because—damnit!—I mean it and I want him to know. I never want him to doubt this one absolute truth. "And you don't have to worry about anyone else. There isn't anyone from my past who's going to swoop in and ruin things. There was no one else who mattered before you, Carter. I promise."

His smile breaks out like the sun after a long winter, and I feel thankful that I get to bask in all that warmth. He leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose, then wraps his arms tight around my body, walking me closer and closer to him. I giggle until we're hip to hip. Then my giggles dry up, and I look into the depths of his brown eyes.