Chapter 1
I face my closet and tr y to remember everything I need for my trip. Jeans and my heavy coat. My stuff for New Year’s, which goes into another bag entirely. I remember the book I’m reading and grab it, shoving it in my packed-full handbag. There’s a box of presents by the front door. I check the clock. Carter is going to be late, which will make us late to meet Josh, which will blow everything I’ve painstakingly organized for this holiday trip home.
“ Lies and manipulation take a lot of coordinating,” says Finley, who’s been yammering at me through the phone about what a bad idea this is for the last twenty minutes.
“You’ve never met my parents. Lies and manipulation are t he only way to get through a five-day Christmas break.”
“They can’t be that bad.”
“They’re worse. Southern. Conservative. Religious. There is nothing about me dating a man nine years younger than me that is going to go well. Plus, he’s catholic and a democrat,” I explain for the hundredth time. “This is the only way Carter can come with me.”
“Right, right,” she sighs. “Lies and manipulation.”
“My parents loved Jamie. They were so upset when we broke up. He was perfect in their eyes. He’s a doctor, a republican and our families go to the same church. How do you beat that?”
“Um,” she says, “With Carter Hightower. He’s the most All-American boy you could ever bring home. Plus, he’s amazing in bed. Stop worrying.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and pick at a loose thread on the quilt. “You know, I think this is good for us. Sex has always been such a major part of our relationship. Going a couple days isn’t going to kill us.”
“No, but the lies may. You’re hiding your boyfriend of almost 18 months from your family.”
“It hasn’t been 18 months,” I say. “We weren’t even together last Christmas.”
“Ruthie, girl, I love you, Carter loves you, and your family loves you. Maybe at some point, you’ll realize you don’t have to do all this stuff.”
“That’ s easy for you to say; you’re in like, the most functional relationship I’ve ever seen.”
Finley doesn’t argue because she knows I’m right. Her boyfriend Ryan is pretty damn perfect. “It will be fine. Have a good holiday. Text and call. I’ll see you at the beach once all this blows over.”
“Merry Christmas .”
I hang up the phone and carry my bags to the driveway and have gone back in for my pillow and laptop when Carter pops in the door.
“Hey , babe,” he says, hands running up my shirt. His mouth covers mine before I can say anything in return and my skin erupts in excited goose bumps. He’s hard and ready against my stomach, which is pretty much the norm for a nineteen-year-old. Especially Carter Hightower, a genetically superior man, who is my utter and absolute kryptonite.
“We don’t have time.” I try to push him away , but it’s like attempting to move a brick wall. Not only is he tall and strong, but touching him elicits a physical response that is not helpful.
“There’s always time. Plus, you’ve forced me to agree to a no sex policy for the whole Christmas break. I need one more hit.”
Damn, he has me there. Carter and I are pros at this. The sex part. The relationship part, we’re still working on. The first two months we were together were based entirely on sex. Forbidden, secret sex. I’d spotted him when he was lifeguarding, just graduated from high school and the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was in trouble. I knew I would have him and I did, teaching him everything an eighteenyear-old needed to know about sex. But then things got complicated. We worked through it, but still, Christmas together? Even in hiding? This is a big deal for us.
Standing in my kitchen, I look him over, head to toe, and take in his broad shoulders, massive wing-span and long, lean body. I have a flashback to making out with him in the pool locker room
I face my closet and tr y to remember everything I need for my trip. Jeans and my heavy coat. My stuff for New Year’s, which goes into another bag entirely. I remember the book I’m reading and grab it, shoving it in my packed-full handbag. There’s a box of presents by the front door. I check the clock. Carter is going to be late, which will make us late to meet Josh, which will blow everything I’ve painstakingly organized for this holiday trip home.
“ Lies and manipulation take a lot of coordinating,” says Finley, who’s been yammering at me through the phone about what a bad idea this is for the last twenty minutes.
“You’ve never met my parents. Lies and manipulation are t he only way to get through a five-day Christmas break.”
“They can’t be that bad.”
“They’re worse. Southern. Conservative. Religious. There is nothing about me dating a man nine years younger than me that is going to go well. Plus, he’s catholic and a democrat,” I explain for the hundredth time. “This is the only way Carter can come with me.”
“Right, right,” she sighs. “Lies and manipulation.”
“My parents loved Jamie. They were so upset when we broke up. He was perfect in their eyes. He’s a doctor, a republican and our families go to the same church. How do you beat that?”
“Um,” she says, “With Carter Hightower. He’s the most All-American boy you could ever bring home. Plus, he’s amazing in bed. Stop worrying.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and pick at a loose thread on the quilt. “You know, I think this is good for us. Sex has always been such a major part of our relationship. Going a couple days isn’t going to kill us.”
“No, but the lies may. You’re hiding your boyfriend of almost 18 months from your family.”
“It hasn’t been 18 months,” I say. “We weren’t even together last Christmas.”
“Ruthie, girl, I love you, Carter loves you, and your family loves you. Maybe at some point, you’ll realize you don’t have to do all this stuff.”
“That’ s easy for you to say; you’re in like, the most functional relationship I’ve ever seen.”
Finley doesn’t argue because she knows I’m right. Her boyfriend Ryan is pretty damn perfect. “It will be fine. Have a good holiday. Text and call. I’ll see you at the beach once all this blows over.”
“Merry Christmas .”
I hang up the phone and carry my bags to the driveway and have gone back in for my pillow and laptop when Carter pops in the door.
“Hey , babe,” he says, hands running up my shirt. His mouth covers mine before I can say anything in return and my skin erupts in excited goose bumps. He’s hard and ready against my stomach, which is pretty much the norm for a nineteen-year-old. Especially Carter Hightower, a genetically superior man, who is my utter and absolute kryptonite.
“We don’t have time.” I try to push him away , but it’s like attempting to move a brick wall. Not only is he tall and strong, but touching him elicits a physical response that is not helpful.
“There’s always time. Plus, you’ve forced me to agree to a no sex policy for the whole Christmas break. I need one more hit.”
Damn, he has me there. Carter and I are pros at this. The sex part. The relationship part, we’re still working on. The first two months we were together were based entirely on sex. Forbidden, secret sex. I’d spotted him when he was lifeguarding, just graduated from high school and the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was in trouble. I knew I would have him and I did, teaching him everything an eighteenyear-old needed to know about sex. But then things got complicated. We worked through it, but still, Christmas together? Even in hiding? This is a big deal for us.
Standing in my kitchen, I look him over, head to toe, and take in his broad shoulders, massive wing-span and long, lean body. I have a flashback to making out with him in the pool locker room
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