Second Thoughts by Cara Bertrand Page B

familiar voice, cursing roundly. I landed on top of my attacker and hands grabbed my wrists from behind. I kicked out with my foot once, twice more, connecting solidly with a knee.
    The person groaned again, before a definitely familiar voice, in a mix of pain and exasperation, shouted, “Fuck, Lainey! It’s
me.
Stop kicking me!”
    I whipped my head around. Sure enough, it was Carter beneath me, still holding my wrists and pulling me tight against him. I struggled once more, just out of instinct, as I waited for my heart to slow and my brain to recognize that I wasn’t really in danger.
    And just like that, it did. All of a sudden, fighting didn’t feel so much like fighting anymore. If anything, my breathing quickened. Carter’s did too. I felt it, puffing faster across my bare neck, along with the increasing beat of his pulse and the heat of his long, solid body.
    In seconds, and without my even realizing how it happened, I was facing the other way. Carter grasped my wrists again and pulled me toward him, kissing me deeply, almost desperately. Like he might never get another chance. Before long my wrists were freed, letting my arms twine around his neck and his hands slide down my back to grip my hips.
    For a minute or two, kissing Carter there, in the forest and with the sense of danger still sparking in my veins, felt like the sexiest moments we’d ever had. But then reality seeped in along with the cold, damp dirt at my knees. I broke away, reluctantly, and sat up to catch my breath. After a moment, Carter followed suit, pulling me up to stand.
    Once we were upright, I shoved him, demanding, “What the hell were you doing?!”
    With a sly, sexy grin, he tugged me close and said, “I was kissing you.” Then he did it again.
    I refused to be distracted. Much. Finally, I pushed him away again, though not as roughly this time. “I understand that part,” I said. “I was
talking
about your grabbing me in the first place. What are you even doing out here?”
    His good humor left abruptly and he raked his fingers through his hair. “Waiting for you,” he said. “And I could have been
anyone,
including someone who actually wanted to hurt you.”
    â€œWell, but you weren’t.” I grabbed his hand and started walking back toward campus. He came along willingly, but I still felt tension radiating from him. “You were you and there’s no one else around. But…how did you even end up out here?”
    â€œLast time you disappeared and I couldn’t reach you, this is where you were. And your roommate told me you’d ‘gone for a walk.’” Damn it. I hated doing it, but I probably should have lied to Amy outright. Then she couldn’t have informed on me. Through my irritation, I realized Carter was still talking.
“…trying
to scare the shit out of me? Why would you even come out here, in the middle of the afternoon no less, after what happened last time?”
    It was a valid question, one I
couldn’t
answer truthfully. I hadn’t planned on answering it at all. Thankfully, a plausible lie presented itself. I ducked my eyes and lowered my voice. This lie worked because it was partially true.
    â€œI think about ‘what happened last time’ all the time,” I whispered. “And with meeting your uncle…that made it worse. Probably it wasn’t healthy to go there; I don’t know. But it did make me feel better to walk away and know we’re both still alive.”
    Carter was silent for a long minute before he came to an abrupt halt and pulled me into a bruising hug. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
    I am too,
I thought. I felt like shit for lying to him.
    We were nearly to campus when Carter finally got around to the questions I’d been waiting for. The slight change of pressure in his grip on my hand warned me it was coming. “You