Book IV of the UNC Series
Carter Blake has a bone-deep hatred for the world-and especially for the people in it. All he wants is to keep his head down, focus on school and basketball, and avoid the mess of human connection. After enduring years of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My breathing adjusts to match Carter's heartbeat. I inhale with each pulse, holding my breath and then exhaling on the next one. It's what helps me calm down and relax. With my ear pressed to his chest, I can hear his heartbeat clearly.
My leg is hooked around Carter's left leg, my hip is against his side while my arm rests on his chest, my fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. Carter has an arm wrapped around my shoulder, palming the base of my spine, while the other flirts and brushes against the skin at my hip.
We revel in the silence, embracing each other's presence. The only sounds accompanying us are the whipping winds that often lash against the glass window and the occasional honk of a car on the passive street below.
I don't know what time it is, but after holding me for some time, after the tears he shed against my neck dried up and his grip loosened around my hips, we found ourselves exhausted. He didn't want me to leave his arms, so he tugged me along, and I'd been resting at his side as we passed out for the night. All night, we've found comfort in the entanglement of our limbs. I woke up some time ago, silently letting Carter's soft breathing guide me through the early hours of the morning.
Despite how warm I feel from wearing Carter's shirt, the sheen layer of sweat coating my skin, I don't move away, knowing this is what Carter needs from me right now. I run my socked-covered feet over his thighs, down his knee to his calves—at least what I can reach of it.
I can't imagine how Carter must be feeling. I understand the pain of losing a parent, but to have someone who should love you unconditionally blame you for something you didn't do? That's a pain I'll never know.
I can't imagine what it would have been like if my mom had blamed me for my bio-dad leaving her. After all, he left her when he found out she was pregnant. If she blamed me—which is more common than one would think—if I had felt her anger in any way, I don't know what I would have done. I wouldn't have blamed her. She was fourteen, pregnant, and her parents had kicked her out. I'm sure she even felt a little angry and frustrated, but she never punished me.
If anything, the six years I spent with her were the best years of my life. She showed me the luxuries of life even when we had little to begin with. She showed me the value of relationships and enjoying the little things in life. We made do with what we had. We cherished and loved every minute.
But if she had been angry with me, resorted to hurting me for what happened as a result of my birth, if those six years were hell for me as well, there's no way I would have survived. I wouldn't have been able to fight long enough to meet Olivia and experience and love a new family with the Bishops. I wouldn't have been here long enough to meet Carter.
And for that, I'm even more grateful to my mom. Because she had all the reason to hate me, and she didn't.
I can't seem to grasp what's going through Carter's mom's mind to have such a deep-rooted vendetta against him. This need to punish him. He's her son. She clearly feels affection for Carsen, yet for Carter, it's all indignation and rage.
