Fall from Love

whole body is pushed back, pressed firmly against the wall. One of his hands grips tighter around my neck while the other hand travels up to my waist and then around to my lower back, pressing my whole body against him. The sudden closeness causes the smallest whimper to escape me and I know that there’s no turning back now. The line has been crossed.
    Bringing up both of my hands, I shove them into his hair and pull him down harder to me, pressing my tongue even farther into his mouth. He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth, biting it gently before running his tongue along the length of it and I can’t help moaning again. Before I even understand what’s happening, he pulls away, breathing heavy.
    “That wasn’t in my plans,” he says, resting his forehead on mine.
    “Yeah.” I lick my lips, trying to savor the taste of him. “That was all me. Sorry.”
    Both hands come up and cradle my face, holding it steady, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t be sorry.”
    He slowly removes his hands from my face and takes a few steps back. Closing my eyes, I try to pull myself together. My thoughts are going a mile a minute in about a million different directions.
    “Carter,” I whisper as I open my eyes and stare at the back of him. He turns around slowly and it hurts me to witness his face. He looks about as torn as I feel.
    “Before you say anything, I just want you to think about a few things, okay?” he says. “Think about us. Think about our friendship and what it means to you because, for me, that’s the only thing keeping me from kissing you again. Everything that is messed up in my life, everything that doesn’t make sense, every pain, every worry, it all disappears when you’re with me. Life’s good. It’s better and I can’t,” he pauses, “I can’t lose that. I can’t lose you because most days, you’re the only thing holding me together.”
    I nod my head because I know exactly how he feels. The last few months, since Carter has been in my life, life has been better. He helps the dark days seem brighter and just the thought of not having him in my life, scares me more than anything.
    “Am I being a complete idiot right now?” he asks, meeting my gaze.
    I shake my head. In all honesty, he may be the smartest one here.

 
     
    Chapter Sixteen
     
    The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it's all that matters.
    ~ Audrey Hepburn
     
    CARTER
    “So, how did things go with Holly yesterday?” Kelly asks me, flipping over a pancake in the pan in front of her. I shrug and chug my glass of orange juice.
    “That bad, huh?” She chuckles, putting the batter bowl in the sink and filling it with water. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
    Now that she can’t see me, I roll my eyes at her.
    “Don’t roll your eyes at your sister, it’s not becoming of a good looking, young man like yourself,” my mom says as she walks into the kitchen, giving me away.
    Kelly smirks and turns to stick her tongue out at me and I stick mine back out at her.
    “Or stick your tongue out,” my mom says, glancing between the two of us. “I didn’t raise you two to act like this, especially at your ages.”
    Kelly grins again and I shoot her a quick glare before going over and helping my mom to the table.
    “Mom, I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” I say, guiding her to her usual chair. Even with no hair and hardly any color in her face, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
    Since as long as I can remember, everyone in our family has had their own chair. Brandon and Dad’s chairs now sit empty and, for the most part, it’s hard to even look at them. I can’t understand why my mom wants to even sit at this table anymore anyway. A few months ago I offered to take the table away and get a new one... a smaller one. One with only three chairs, but she refused my idea.
    “No, it’s our table,” she had said. “It’s a table full of happy times; our memories as a family. I want to be reminded of those memories every time I sit down to eat.”
    I never could understand why she wanted to be reminded of people who were no longer here. The people who were stolen from us way too soon.
    “I told you before, I don’t want to eat in bed. I want to eat at the kitchen table with my children. Is that too much to ask?”
    “Of course it isn’t,” Kelly says, stacking the pancakes on the plate, “but the doctor said that you should stay in bed.”
    My mom shakes