"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.
"Classes?"
Shayna smirks. "I'm a later register so I probably won't get a single class I want this semester, but I got in."
"Got in where?"
Shayna pulls her lips together, trying to conceal the big ass grin that is bursting underneath. "USC."
"What?" I pull her into my chest and squeeze her tiny frame until she's yelping. "That's incredible, doll!"
"Thank you." She lifts her chin and looks proud. Hell, I'm more than proud of her.
"You're doing it, Shayna. You're doing all the things you wanted. On your own. I'm really proud of you."
She picks off a piece of the English muffin and chews thoughtfully for a minute before saying, "And you'll be fine with me moving back in? I'm underemployed. I'm only racking up more and more student loans by the day. I'm really nothing more than a parasite."
"I'll put you to work," I say.
"I bet you will," she laughs.
"Listen, there's one more thing I want to talk to you about."
"I don't do windows. Or toilets. Or cooking, come to think of it."
"Very funny. I want to throw you a party. A birthday party. And I guess a congratulatory party as well."
Shayna swallows hard and crooks and eyebrow. "Yeah?"
I pick up her hand and kiss each of her knuckles before continuing. "I think you've earned a special night."
"Well, I never say no to a party!"
"I'd like to invite your parents." I say it quickly and her reply slips out just as fast.
"No." She tosses the plate into the sink next to her and hops down off of the counter. "You just killed a perfectly good moment, you know that Carter."
I rub the back of my head. "Well, wouldn't be the first one. Just hear me out, though." I grasp onto her forearm and pull her into my chest.
"You've been through a lot. I get it. I'm coming out of something, too. But listen to me when I tell you that once you shed those secrets—your life will change for the better. I promise."
"I don't have any secrets—"
"Really?" I ask, kissing her hand again. "When do you plan on telling them that you know?"
She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I promised myself I wouldn't invite them out here until I had everything together. Until they could be proud of me."
"You don't think they'd be proud of you? C'mon, Shay. Look at all you've done. You have a job, you're about to be back in school. What more could they want for their kid?"
"Why is this so important to you?"
I answer without hesitation, but filter in a joke just in case my reply scares her off. "Because maybe I'm falling in love with you. And I think it's important that I meet your parents. Maybe."
Shayna's face explodes with a smile that I feel a sense of pride for putting there.
"You're what?"
"You heard me. What do you think? Can I invite them?"
"I'll think about it," she says. Her own hand smacks her forehead. "Oh, shit!"
"What is it, doll?" I search her face in a panic.
"My mom! She sent a gift to me. It's in my car, has been for weeks!"
"A gift? Wait, have you talked to her?"
Shayna shakes her head and looks a little flustered.
"No. I haven't. I've got to go and get it." She runs to grab her keys off of the kitchen counter. "I'll just be a minute."
"Shay," I say. "I'm going to head out for a bit."
Shayna slows her pace and turns to me.
"Where are you going?" She says the words slowly, uneasily, as if she's wondering if it's okay if she asks them.
"There's something I have to do."
"Carter..."
"It's not a bad thing. I won't be long."
"Okay. But you can tell me if you need to go to a meeting."
"It's nothing like that. I'll be back soon."
"Carter—"
"Listen to me," I kiss her again and then say, "I'm going to go next door and talk to Quinn. That way, if you want some privacy after you open your gift... well, you've got it."
She raises a brow and asks, "You're going to talk-to-Quinn, talk-to-Quinn?"
"Yes, warden. I'm gonna take care of it. But you'd better be prepared to earn your keep when I get back."
She laughs and bolts for the door.
And now I've got to go tell my kid sister I'm an addict.