“I’m in a… different place,” I eventually said. He frowned at that, and while it seemed like a vague response, I felt he understood what I meant; that you had to make do with the cards you’ve been dealt with.

“You been with anyone since I left?” he abruptly asked, not even blinking in my direction.

I hesitated, and he turned to me then, studying my reaction thoroughly. His face looked void of emotion. “Right,” he muttered, swallowing another mouthful. “Of course you have.”

“Carter –”

“Are you in a relationship now?”

My heart slammed in my chest, and for a split second, I wondered about telling the truth. But then I might look vulnerable.

“Yes,” I lied. I needed to prove I was alright. For some reason, I wanted him to think I’d moved on, especially after seeing his girlfriend. I wanted it to be clear – to myself even – that I would never fall prey to his charms again.

He stilled, like it wasn’t at all what he’d expected to hear.

“What’s his name?” he then asked.

I took a moment before answering and thought of my last failed relationship. “Cole.”

His face twisted up. “How’d you meet?”

“School.”

Another strange look. “Did he study accounting like you?”

“Engineering.”

“Engineering.” he let out a low whistle. “Nicely done, Leah. How long have you been with him?”

Stick to what you know. “Five months.”

Carter suddenly pushed off the balcony and stepped closer to me, a questionable look in his eye. “Is he good to you?”

I swallowed hard, eyeing his proximity warily. “Yes.”

“Funny?”

I paused. “He… can be.”

“Does he make you feel things?”

“Like what?”

“You know what.”

My lips trembled. “Yeah,” I whispered, uncertainly.

Lies, all lies.

“Don’t sound convincing, or anything,” he sarcastically replied.

“Carter –”

“How about the way he makes you feel” – he took another step closer – “physically.”

I took a step back in surprise, the heat in my body was roaring now I could smell the scent of him drifting to me. He came even closer to me then, until his front was almost near to touching mine. My breath quickened. He was influencing my body like so many times before, working the strings, driving out my feelings I’d done so well to bottle up. I trembled as he leaned his face to mine.

“Is he… better?” His voice was low, serious.

I didn’t respond.

“Come on,” he pressed, until his face was mere inches from mine. “I wanna know, Leah. I have to know you’re being taken care of. Does he do you good? Touch you in the right places? Make it rough enough for you? Does he make you tremble right before you come, make you cry out right before it hits you hard?”

I kept from responding, but my mouth had dropped halfway. Holy fucking shit. Talk about straight to the point, but that had always been what Carter was like.

He smirked just then, like he was satisfied by my silence. “Yeah, I kinda figured he had nothing on me. Nobody knows your body like I do.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Still cocky.”

“Always.”

“Well, don’t run away with your ego just yet. I don’t talk about that part of my life.”

“Why?”

“It’s private.”

“Private?” he sneered. “That’s bullshit.”

“Why is it bullshit?”

“Because I know if situations were reversed, you’d be asking me the same question, and you’d feel entitled to know the answer too. But now I’d say it’s fairly obvious what the answer is, huh?”

My brows pinched together. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because a part of you wants to know.”

“Know what exactly?”

“If I’ve moved on.”

I let out a sharp breath. He was right, of course. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Carter.”

“How am I doing that?”

“Because clearly you have.”

“Is that right?”

I looked wearily at him. He was always so hard to read; a closed book you couldn’t judge the cover of.

“What do you see in her exactly?” I suddenly wondered, referring to Molly. “She’s dense, and I don’t mean that rudely, or anything. She’s gorgeous, I get it. But she seems genuinely dense.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, Leah, she is.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Girls like her are fun.”

“Fun?”

“Nothing serious.”

I frowned just thinking about it. “Still not one to commit, huh?”

That seemed to darken his mood immediately, and rightfully so. I’d just poked the nest with that remark, but so had he by questioning my sex life.

He cast me a bitter look, his nose flaring as he retorted, “At least this way they don’t fuck with me like…”

“Like me,” I finished, nodding.

A few minutes in and we were already cutting each other up. How joyful was this reunion?

He went still, most likely thinking the same thing, and slowly the wall he’d so expertly put up went down. “That came out wrong,” he muttered, apologetically. “I’m sorry, Leah. I haven’t seen you in three years, and what do I do? I come back acting like a fucking douchebag, like before. It’s like I can’t fucking help myself.”

Dammit.

“You’re not a douchebag,” I softly replied. “You’re entitled to your… fun. That’s what made us different in the end.”

“Fun,” he whispered back, thoughtfully. “Is that what you think our time together was to me?”

Wasn’t it? I didn’t answer. He drank some more beer down, a frown firmly planted on his face. This was my best friend at one point, I reminded myself. While I knew I’d never want more with him again, I couldn’t take upsetting him. Truth was, I missed him.

“I hear your music from time to time,” I then said with a hopeful smile. I needed to make things better, and judging by how relaxed he suddenly got by those words, I figured I was on the right track. “You’re wonderful. I love what you boys put out. I don’t think I can turn the radio on without hearing one of your songs.”