A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(82)

[page]Kat’s face crumpled. That all sounded horrifically scary. “Jack, Carter and I aren’t—”

“But,” Jack interrupted with a hand on Kat’s forearm, “if you aren’t together until the probationary period of his parole is over, then there would be no problem.”

Kat knew this already. She knew she’d have to wait until her contracted time with Carter was over before they could be together. If she wanted them to be together.

Was that what she wanted?

She wanted to see what was between them, of course; she couldn’t deny that. But it was useless. The odds were stacked against them both.

“And to be totally clear,” Jack said, “if you and Carter are together and nobody knows until the end of his probationary period, then there would be no problem.”

Kat lifted her head. Was he being serious? She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see through his bullshit but came up wanting. He was being totally serious.

“Are you saying that—”

“All I’m saying is that what people don’t know can’t hurt ’em.”

Why was he willing to be discreet about her relationship with Carter? He had nothing to gain from it. “Why are you saying this?”

Jack squeezed her hand. “He needs you, Kat. Even if he hasn’t truly realized it yet, he needs you.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”

Jack smiled. “Kat, you’re the only person who can. You put him in his place, you don’t take his bullshit, you’ve reached out to him in a way no one else ever has. Take your time, and try not to panic or worry. What more can you do?”

Kat thanked Jack for his time and understanding. She trusted him to keep what had been said between them. Despite the fears she had about her friends and family and their reactions toward her and Carter’s relationship, it made her heart feel less heavy, knowing there were people who saw it as something positive.

She decided that she’d start to do the same.





17


Kat shifted in her seat while Carter read Hemingway in the library that afternoon. He was sitting with his ankle resting on his knee. Black jeans, boots, gray AC/DC T-shirt, tattoos, rings, and a black beanie covering his buzz cut.

Their greetings at the beginning of the session had been torturous at best, with Kat wanting nothing more than to hightail it home and lose herself in a couple of stiff drinks. Never had she felt more chaotic, more off balance. Her mind whirred unrelentingly with question after question, punctuated with words from her conversation with Jack and her talk with Beth, before it would go back to the kiss.

Oh God, the kiss.

Throughout their session, her gaze landed unapologetically on Carter’s mouth. She cleared her throat when he glanced up at her, as if sensing her staring, and halted in his reading. Her cheeks warmed. She averted her eyes back to the page.

Carter frowned before he continued: “‘I had treated seeing Catherine very lightly, I had gotten somewhat drunk and had nearly forgotten to come, but when I could not see her there I was feeling lonely and hollow.’”

“Okay, stop there.” Kat laid her copy of the text facedown on the desk between them, alongside the Oreos and can of Coke Carter had brought. “In regard to the last few pages, what do you notice about the change in Henry’s attitude toward Catherine?”

Carter fidgeted and his fingers became wedged under the edge of his beanie while he scratched his head. His eyes flickered to hers nervously.

“He’s, um, he’s confused by his feelings.” He picked up his can of Coke and took a long sip.