I am a woman. I don't always act rationally, especially when it's a week before my period, my brain is still strung out from orgasms, and I'm looking at another woman's lipstick on my man.
And yes, Carter is my man. That was the first order of business that I was determined, right there at one in the morning, to set straight.
"You told her I was your girlfriend." The words came out like an accusation, and I could see the wariness in his eyes when he responded.
"Yes."
"Am I?"
"Do you want to be?"
"Yes!" I snarled the words and he looked confused. I don't really blame the man. Most discussions of commitment come after champagne and roses and hot sex. And usually the person asking about the commitment doesn't sound like she's ready to join the WWE. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I stepped forward, my hands clenched at my side and his eyes dropped, for a minute, from my face. It hadn't been my plan to have this fight naked, it hadn't been my plan to have a fight at all, but I didn't bother to cover up. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I repeated, my voice rising an octave.
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"Yes?" the word was a question and there was a healthy amount of fear in his eyes.
"Good." I turned and stalked back to the bedroom and it was around the time that I slammed the door, my bare feet stomping over to the bed, that I realized how mental I was acting. Had I really just gained a relationship? Or had I just beaten a distracted man into submission?
I crawled into his bed and heard the sink come on in the bathroom, some splashing. He was probably washing her lipstick off. Then he brushed his teeth and I felt, for a moment, both relieved and irritated.
But as I lay there and waited for him, I realized the truth of the matter. I can't be pissed at him for Presa Little showing up at midnight. Not when Vic would have done the exact same thing. Vic had done the same thing, in Joey Plazen's trailer and I'd let him take it so much further. Granted, Carter couldn't have had sex with her, not with me standing right there in his bedroom. I guess the real question is – if I hadn't been there, what would he have done?
I didn't know the man well enough to know the answer to that question. Hell, I don't know myself well enough to answer that question. If I opened my door, in the middle of the night, and Vic was standing there, can I say with one hundred percent certainty that I wouldn't kiss him? Or worse? Barricading one man into a relationship doesn't safeguard us from the feelings we may have for another. If anything, the forbidden can just make temptation stronger.
I didn't want to talk when Carter came back from the bathroom. I couldn't. There was just too much going on in my head. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Did some mumbly groan thing when he gently touched my shoulder.
It was weak. I should have sat up in bed and had a conversation like a normal individual. Discussed whether he really wanted to be in a relationship or whether we should keep it casual a little longer.
Instead, I kept my eyes closed and my breathing regular and then, I really was asleep.
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