Carter Ortese is Trouble - completed (The Boys #1)

Chapter 46: Emma

"Can I call you?" The text lights up my screen, and my heart skips a few beats.

My mom tolerates our relationship—she's as okay with it as she will ever be—and she's in the kitchen putting away dishes. My father has holed himself up in the study with the paper and the glass, and quite possibly the bottle, of whiskey. Hypothetically speaking, it shouldn't matter if I'm on the phone this late into the evening.

But how often have my hypothetical scenarios worked out?

"Yes," I write back quickly. My pulse thrums with a sudden readiness. It's been a few days since I've heard Carter's voice, and I want to talk to him. I want to tell him how much I appreciate him, how thankful I am, how grateful I am that he was able to give me a second chance to get everything right.

I refuse to mess anything up this time.

My phone rings, and Carter's name flashes across the screen. I sit up farther and swipe to answer. "Hi," I say, almost breathless. I arrange the pillows behind me to hold me upright.

"Hey," he says.

There's a long pause with open air between us, but I know he's still there. Something about his presence makes me feel calmer, more centered, more like myself. There's so many things on the tip of my tongue, and I'm about to rush through each and every one of them like my words are toppling over a waterfall.

"I want to say thank—"

"I want to tell you something," he says at the same time. We both pause again, and he says more gently, "What were you going to say?"

"Thank you," I say. I wrap my fingers around the bed sheets. "I know it must have been hard for you, and everyone has been so concerned about me, but I'm fine, or I will be. How are you, Carter? Are you okay? I need to know."

There's a long pause on his end, where I hear the light air of his breaths against the receiver. He sucks in a long inhale and says, "I'm nervous." He goes silent again.

"Nervous?"

"I don't want to tell you the truth, because I don't want to burden you, but I want to tell you the truth, because I want you to know what I'm thinking."

I choke on a laugh. "You're not going to burden me anymore than my parents have." I drop my voice on the last part. My door is closed, and my lights are off, but I don't want to risk one of them listening in on my conversation and overhearing anything bad. Goodness forbid that I ever shame Henry Williams, especially in his own house. And now that my mom is putting forth some effort, I don't want to ruin that fragile new beginning.

"Are you sure?" he asks, voice tentative.

"I'm sure."

"Okay," he says and pauses. "I was terrified that night. I still am." He breathes out, and it caresses the end of the phone. It makes me want to hug him, pull him close to me. I wish he were here. "I almost lost you, Emma, and that was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. I felt ... useless for the first time in my life." He chuckles to himself, voice wavering. "I know how it feels to be perceived as useless from my reputation, but I had never felt truly helpless and hopeless until I watched you collapse."

"Collapse," I whisper, remembering the pain all too well, but more than that, I remember Carter's face hovering over me, concern etched into his features. Storm clouds rolled over his eyes, flashing with lightning in the dark. He was terrified. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Emma. You almost died." There's a moment where he laughs to himself, but it sounds weak and hollow. "I wanted to tell you, because I needed you to know. I don't want anything unspoken hanging over us." He takes in another long breath. "So, that brings up the second thing I want to admit. I would have slept with you, under the right circumstances. I still will, someday, if you want."