A/N: I AM SO SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR SO LONG! It was the holidays, and there was family drama and just ugh, I'm still a jerk for not updating. Please enjoy this chapter though, I'm back on a regular updating schedule now! Love you all!
LIAM'S POV
I woke up the next morning a very happy man. Carter's head was laying on my chest, her arm draped across my stomach. Her short hair was messy and covering her makeup free face and I just couldn't stop staring.
Carter was by no means perfect, but she was still beautiful. She might not be as skinny as the models on the telly, and her skin isn't perfectly clear, but that just makes her so much more real to me. And realness is something I don't take for granted.
I took in a deep breath and looked out the window in her old room, blinking when the light hit my eyes. It was obviously very early, the sun just coming up, but I've always been an early riser.
Very slowly, I eased my way out from underneath Carter, pulling one of her pillows out from under me and setting it beside her to cuddle up to in my absence. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing when she mumbled something and wrapped both her arms around the pillow as I stood up. I was only in boxars and a tshirt, so I grabbed some jeans and a sweater, pulling them on as quietly as I could.
Before I walked out of the room though, I leaned back over Carter's bed and very gently pressed my lips to her forehead, pulling back and swiping the hair away from her face. She looked so peaceful, so calm.
For fuck's sake man you're so whipped.
Well yeah so what if I'm whipped? Not to be cocky, but Carter needs me. And I need her. There's no other way to put it.
I tore myself away from Carter and quietly left her room. As I walked down the hallway, I noticed that her little brother's bedroom door was open, he must already be up. Which means their mum must be up as well. Great. Because she is such a fan of me.
As I made my way down the stairs, I couldn't help but linger, looking at the pictures along the wall. There were family photos of a much younger, long haired Carter holding her brother when he was a toddler. There were also pictures of Rebecca and who I assumed was Carter's dad, Charlie. Carter certainly resembled him, especially their eyes. One picture in particular though I kept staring at, it was Carter's father holding her up on his shoulders in front of a Christmas tree. She couldn't have been but maybe five or six years old, a front tooth missing as she grinned widely, adorning a Christmas onesie. It was adorable.
And even though it was a stupid way to feel, I couldn't help but be jealous. My dad never held me up on his shoulders, I've never had family photos except for when some business magazine comes to interview us, and I certainly never had a Christmas onesie. My family was so focused on the fateful path they've set for me, they essentially robbed me of a normal childhood. And I was jealous. Jealous of Carter and Shawn for what they had, even if their parents aren't together anymore. But at the same time, happy for them that they had a normal family at one point.
I shook my head and turned away from the pictures, going down the stairs. From what I remembered from last night, I headed towards the kitchen.
I could hear Carter's mum before I saw her, humming over the stove as she cooked something. She was wearing slacks and a blazer and those high heels that girls wear that I've never understood. At the table was Shawn, his chair pushed in as close to the table as possible with a notebook in front of him.
Shawn looked up before I could say anything, smiling at me.
"Mum, Carter's boyfriend is up."
Rebecca snapped her head around at me and glared for just a moment before putting on a fake smile. I could recognize it so well because my own mum does the same thing.
"Oh Liam, hello. Have a seat, I'm just making breakfast before I head to work."
"Uh, thank you." I said sheepishly, walking over to sit by Shawn. "By the way, I'm not Carter's boyfriend. We're just friends."
Rebecca had her back to me but I would bet anything that she was smiling. She didn't seem to like me very much.
"Well that's good to know." She said as she turned off the stove.
Ouch.
"So, you have to work on a Sunday?" I asked, trying to make polite conversation. It wouldn't do me well to let this woman's rudeness get to me. She doesn't have to like me in order for me to like her daughter.
Rebecca sighed as she made a plate of eggs and bacon. "Unfortunately, yes. I'm the liason for the water district office in London, and we've been having a conflict with some chemical companies lately so I've been working almost every day."
"Oh I'm sorry to hear that."
She didn't reply, but nodded a thanks at me as she set a plate in front of Shawn. He just barely looked up from his notebook to thank her. I leaned over to see that he wasn't writing, but drawing instead.
"Well Shawn, I'm going to leave now. Anne will be home today, so if you need anything you call her, okay? She's only a few houses down." Shawn nodded at his mother's question, waving her off as she kissed his head. She turned to me with another fake smile. "Liam feel free to help yourself to any food in the house and please tell Carter I've set up a dinner with her father tonight."
"Yes ma'am, I will."
She looked at me skeptically for a moment, her guard coming down.
"And please," She began, "I know Carter gets easily freaked out by these things, but don't let her leave again. At least not without a proper goodbye."
I froze, gulping as I managed to give Rebecca a curt nod. She gave me a genuine smile before grabbing her bag and darting out the door.
"Why did you take my sister?"
I jumped as Shawn spoke the second the door closed behind his mum.
"What?"
"You took my sister, she left and went somewhere else and now she's back with you. Why did you take her?" He asked again, glaring at me. I know this kid was only eleven, but the look he was giving me was enough to take me to my grave.
"Look kid, I didn't take your sister. I only met her a couple months ago, and we've only been friends for a week or two." I explained.
He looked me up and down, with narrowed eyes. I had to repress a chuckle. This kid was obviously one for theatrics.
"And you're not her boyfriend?"
"I'm not her boyfriend."
"Does she have a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Do you want to be her boyfriend?"
"Yes I do."
"Well why don't you?"
"It's complicated."
"Grown up stuff?"
"Grown up stuff."
Shawn was quiet then, glaring at me as if it were a challenge. I raised an eyebrow at the kid and smiled. He was like a thirty year old trapped in an eleven year old's body.
"You're not like Harry." He finally spoke, catching me off guard. "Harry's been around forever, a lot longer than you. He loves Carter, but she doesn't love him back. So you have to make her love you before he does the same thing, because you seem a lot better for her."
I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. "You're pretty intuitive, kid."
"Well I can't walk, so I look at people and listen."
My shoulders slouched as I looked at Shawn. He and Carter had obvious similarities, but they were also pretty different.
"Just because you can't walk doesn't mean you can't do loads of other cool things."
"Like what?"
"Like draw!" I said, pointing at his notebook in front of him. "I've seen your sister's drawings and they're really good, I bet yours are too."
Shawn shrugged, picking up the notebook and handing it to me. "I'm not good, I just do it because Carter always helped me. Before she left."
I nodded as I looked through the kid's drawings. They were good. Not great or anything, but he's only eleven.
"I think they're pretty good." I said, handing the notebook back to him. He looked at me for a second before grinning.
"You think so?"
"Oh yeah. You and your sister definitely share a talent."
Shawn just beamed at that, grinning wide. He had the same smile as Carter, too.
"So do you play FIFA?"
CARTER'S POV
When I woke up, it took me a moment to figure out where I was. When the first thing you see when you open your eyes is Lance Bass's face, you freak out a little bit. Nonetheless, I let out a sigh of relief when I realized I was back home, in my old room, with my old posters and pictures, laying in my old bed. And even though I spent the first eighteen years of my life waking up in this same position, it didn't feel the same. I didn't feel like I belonged.
I was also upset when I realized Liam wasn't beside me, and I was hugging a pillow instead of his rock hard muscles. Before I could question where he went though, my phone started to ring on the bedside table.
I groaned, leaning over and glancing at my alarm clock.
"For fuck's sake, it's eight in the morning." I grumbled out loud to myself, picking up my phone and answering without looking at the caller ID. "Hullo?" I asked in a sleepy voice.
"Where are you?" A frantic voice asked, and I was too tired to comprehend who it was.
"What?" I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
"Carter where the fuck are you? I tried to ask your boss, but he kicked me out of the restaurant again, I stopped by your apartment and you're either not there or not answering the phone, so -"
"Wait, is this Zayn?" I interrupted, wide awake now. Why the hell was Zayn of all people calling me?
"Yes it's Zayn!" He shouted into the phone, and I pulled it away from my ear. "I've been texting you nonstop, I was worried you were dead, or someone kidnapped you, or fuck I don't know!"
"I'm sorry, it's been a busy twenty-four hours." I muttered.
"Doesn't mean you can't let your friend know you're okay!"
"Okay first of all," I said firmly, getting sick of him yelling at me, "I wouldn't call us friends. Are you forgetting what you said to me at the football match?"
"Carter you know I didn't -"
"Second of all, I don't have to tell you jack shit if I don't want to. And third of all..." I paused. "I am perfectly fine."
Zayn breathed a sigh of relief into the phone, and I could just imagine him running his hand over his stubble covered face.
"Thank goodness, I was so fucking worried." He said in a much calmer voice, not even bothering to comment on my first two points. "Where are you?"
"I'm uh, I'm just outside London." I muttered, squinting my eyes shut.
"London?" He asked incredulously. "That's like three hours away, what are you doing there?"
"It's a long and complicated story that I'm not going to tell you, but I used to live here so that's that." I said vaguely.
"You drove all the way there by yourself?"
"Uh...no. Someone else drove me."
"Who?"
I didn't reply, biting my lip as I thought of how to tell him that Liam brought me.
"Oh." Zayn spoke. "It was the football bloke, Liam. Wasn't it?"
I sighed, hating how defeated Zayn sounded.
"Yeah."
"So you're fucking him now or something?"
"Oh shut up Zayn." I snapped. "I'm not fucking anyone, and you're a dick for assuming that."
"You barely know this guy! I've been fucking falling on my face to get you to go out with me, and now you're going off to London with this guy! What makes him better than me?"
At first Zayn sounded pissed, but now he seemed hurt and I couldn't help but wince. I made him feel that way, I led him on. Gosh I'm such a bitch.
"It's not like he has something you don't, Zayn. Liam and I just have this connection, okay? We've got history."
"Do you love him?"
I laughed, shaking my head even though he couldn't see me.
"No, I don't believe in love, but..." I paused, thinking over my next words carefully. "Liam makes me want to believe in love."