Kirsten watched the way he drank his wine at the hotel in Featherbrook. He drank it differently than Sandy, she thought. He enjoyed it more than Sandy. Lately, Carter enjoyed lots of things more than Sandy.
With that realization, Kirsten let a sigh escape her lips. Her mind was exhausted. Not only had she and Carter been playing this cat and mouse game for weeks now, but her mind was doing the same thing with Sandy. When she let herself think about Carter, her brain took her back to her wedding day. To her vows. That only triggered images of Sandy breaking them with Rebecca, which in turn only brought her back to her thoughts on Carter. Instead of feeling as though they had right and wrong choices, she thought that the four of them were all living in shades of grey. No decision would be any worse or any better than the others at this point.
"Kirsten? Are you okay?"
As he spoke, Carter moved in closer to her and tried to take the glass out of her hand. She wanted to yank her glass closer and drink until she couldn't think anymore, but Carter's hand on hers was enough to get - and keep - her attention.
"I'm fine," she said, keeping her eyes low to avoid his gaze.
Carter didn't budge. He wasn't going to move away until she finally looked at him.
Glancing up quickly, Kirsten told him that she ought to call Sandy. As soon as she said it, she regretted her words. Carter seemed almost wounded. They had been standing so close, been so intimate and her thoughts kept tracing back to her husband. He wondered if he'd still be divorced if his wife thought of him the way Kirsten thought of Sandy.
"I'm going to go shower," Carter said as he walked off.
Calling Sandy was painful. Kirsten kept remembering the Sandy she had fallen in love with, who would have driven the whole way up to Featherbrook to prevent her from staying in a hotel with another man. The Sandy who certainly would have caught on to the sexual tension between the two of them. Who would have stopped by her office to bring her dinner, and realized her late nights were spent drinking wine with Carter.
Instead, Sandy trusted her. That hurt even more.
As she sat on the bed, listening to the water from Carter's shower, she couldn't help but get lost in her fantasies.
She wanted to step into the shower with him, ambush him. If she did, she knew he'd reciprocate. He'd pin her against the wall, kissing her everywhere. They'd make their way from the bathroom to the bed, their lips never unlocking.
She looked at the bed and clenched her fists. In her entire relationship she'd never thought about another man and suddenly, she couldn't resist anymore.
She fantasized about her and Carter on the bed, still soaking wet from the shower. She envisioned giving herself to Carter, letting her taste every inch of her. She could scratch his back and pull his hair and Carter would let her. Hell, maybe Carter would pull hers, too.
Carter would lift her up, and take her against the wall. Their kisses would go from passionate to angry to sloppy, and no one would stop to think about how they feel. She tried to remind herself not to call his name out. She couldn't be sure if she'd be able to stop if she let him in tonight, and she certainly didn't want to complicate things anymore than they'd been.
A knock at the door snapped her back to reality. Within minutes, she held the business card for the car service. She almost ripped the card, but stopped. She almost dialed the number, but stopped. She couldn't keep living her life in limbo it wasn't fair to herself. It wasn't fair to Carter, to keep running hot and cold. It wasn't fair to Sandy, but then, Sandy doing God knows what with Rebecca wasn't exactly fair to her. She drifted off, wondering if Sandy was worried sick about what effects this night would have on their relationship the way she did when he stayed out all night with Rebecca.
Before she knew it, Carter was standing in the doorway. For a minute, she thought that she was going to rip off his robe and get this thing rolling, but a voice emerged that took her by surprise.
"They have a car service for us." she said, not even sure how the words came out.
As they headed to the car, she kept replaying the scenerio in her mind. She wasn't planning on calling the car service. She wasn't planning on letting this thing slip away. She wasn't planning on her conscience kicking in, either.