Friend is a Four Letter Word

Carter

"I think you should tell Quinn," Shayna says. She's sitting cross-legged on the countertop picking at an English muffin.

"I think... no," I say, shaking my head.

"She'd understand, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't doubt that she will, but I'm not ready to tell her."

"Why?"

I blow out a long breath. "If you weren't so damn beautiful, you'd piss me off with your pushiness."

I kiss her lightly on the nose. That's about as far as we've gone since the meeting two weeks ago. It's disappointing, but I understand. Shayna doesn't want to feel responsible for interfering with my recovery, and I don't want to push. But I want her. Good God do I want this girl.

Immediately after the meeting where I confessed to her that she was one of the biggest reasons that I joined the program in the first place, she came home with me—and emptied every bit of alcohol in the place down the sink. It was pure torture having it here, but I kept it around for when friends came or Ben was over... and if I'm honest, I kept it just in case I fell off the deep end.

"You shouldn't have that stuff in your house," Shayna said. "It's only tempting you."

"You're in my house, too," I shrugged.

I was trying to be funny. Instead, Shayna took it as a sign that she should give me a little space. So she's been crashing at Quinn's and getting settled in town. She got a job as a hostess at the restaurant Quinn works at. She's really pulling herself together—even if it isn't together with me. Yet.

"I think if you told her, it'd be a step in the right direction."

"Which direction is that?"

This time, she pecks a small kiss on my cheek. It's a tease, and she's good at it. I crave her touch almost more than I ever craved alcohol. I laugh and go to the pantry to grab some cereal.

"The direction that maybe brings my bags back into your apartment," she says.

"Oh really?" I stop mid-step.

"Maybe."

"Uh-uh. Maybe's not really good enough," I say. I lean in close to her and take a shot at being a little more bold than normal. I nip at her bottom lip and wait for her to pull away. She doesn't. Instead, she parts her lips and lets me kiss her. Really kiss her for the first time since the meeting. It's hot enough that she lets one, tiny moan slip out, but soft enough that it still feels intimate as hell.

There's nothing I miss more than being able to touch her.

"I'm going to need some sort of security that if I tell my sister that you're not going anywhere."

"Carter," Shayna says. I step in closer to the counter and she puts her hands on my shoulders and lets her legs swing down around my hips. "I want you to tell Quinn because you think it's the right thing to do. I think you need your family behind you on this."

"I'm not telling my family."

"Fine, not your mom and dad. But your sister? Come on. You saw her after her overdose—that was officially her worst, Carter. You can tell her about AA."

Shayna is right, of course. If anyone, I owe Quinn my honesty.

"Okay," I say. "Okay. I'll tell her. And, Shay, I won't hold you to moving in with me until you're ready. You have a home here whenever you want."

"Good. Because classes start soon and I'm going to need a real bed. Quinn's place is alright, but the couch isn't as comfortable as that California King." She lifts her chin to motion to my bedroom.