The Arrangement by Felice Stevens Page A

a month we spend together. You don’t have to hide it from me; I’m not a crazy person who’ll begin stalking you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    Reed didn’t expect an answer and was shocked when Carter bit his lip and spoke, more openly and honestly than he had before. “I’m trying; I really am. But there are things I can’t and won’t share; not with you, not with anyone. I never pretended with you; from the very beginning I was upfront about what I was willing to talk about.”
    Gone was the carefree, happy man who’d held his hand on the ice, skating circles around him. Those ever-present shadows that had faded over the course of the afternoon reappeared, shuttering his eyes, making Reed want nothing more than to wrap his arms around Carter and burrow close into his warm flesh. He wanted to see that light in his silvery eyes and his joyful, relaxed smile.
    Even with Carter’s variable moods and prickly behavior, Reed thrilled to his touch whenever they were close. It drove him crazy not understanding why Carter refused to open up to him, considering how hot and bright their attraction burned between them. There were times he caught Carter watching him with a mixture of confusion and tenderness, and Reed knew Carter felt the pull between them as well.
    Before he could answer, the hostess approached, holding menus in her hand.
    “Table for two?”
    Carter cocked a brow and posed the question to him. “Sure; right, Reed? We’re staying, aren’t we?”
    He forced a smile. “Yeah.” He had no right to complain if Carter refused to tell him about his life; Reed had secrets of his own. Secrets he’d make certain to never reveal, aware of how Carter valued strength.
    Following the young woman into the warm and fragrant restaurant, the voices in Reed’s head clamored, taunting him, shouting out his inadequacies as if he could ever forget. They let him know when Carter eventually would choose someone, it would be a man he’d be proud to introduce people to, not a trembling mess of a man, such as him, who needed medication to make it through the day without feeling as if he were being pulled in eight different directions.
    But Reed wanted to defeat those voices. Dr. Childs told him he was so much more than his illness and not to give in to the temptation of striking off on his own without his meds. Doing so would only feed the beast of his anxiety, enabling it to break free and consume him. For years he’d chosen to disregard her warnings and play by his own rules, contributing to his problems by failing to take his medication properly. He resented the drugs—hated that they were a necessity, like breathing, air and water.
    They sat at the small café table and Carter tapped his hand. “Hey are you with me? You look a hundred miles away.”
    “Yeah.” Reed blinked and smiled faintly.
    “So, are we good?”
    Reed studied Carter’s face, his features fast becoming indelibly inscribed in his mind. The slight crooked smile, that sardonic tilt of a dark brow and those eyes the color of moonlight. One night last week Reed attempted to draw Carter from memory and failed miserably. He didn’t want a flat, one-dimensional picture of Carter, he wanted the real man, alive and warm next to him.
    But if Carter knew the real Reed, would he still want him with the same intensity?

Chapter Eight
    ‡
    “I think it would be wonderful for you to take Jackson to school today. It would give me a chance to work up something more challenging for his therapy.” Papers in hand, Helen peered at him over her glasses. “He’s made incredible strides in the past few months; surely you’ve seen it.”
    Carter allowed himself a grin. “I have. And I know I haven’t thanked you enough—”
    “Oh no.” Helen interrupted him. “This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Jackson stretching his fledgling wings. I’m so happy he’s met these new friends. He’s become a whole new person.”
    The bond