“Nope. I need to talk to you first,” he says, reaching out and pulling me forward with so much force I land on top of him. Being pressed against his hard body, on my bed, is not a good idea. “I’ve missed you,” he slurs wrapping me tightly in his arms. I can smell the alcohol on him. It’s so strong, if I stay near him like this, I’m sure the fumes will make me tipsy. I try and push myself up off his chest as he tightens his grip. I’ve missed him too, but that’s irrelevant. I decide not to voice that out loud.

Being this close to him is too much. I shouldn’t be feeling what I’m feeling. It’s wrong. My mind is flooded with memories of our time together. I can’t go there again. “Carter. Let me up.”

“Nope. Not until you talk to me.” He buries his face in my hair and inhales. “Fuck you smell good. Just like I remember.”

“Stop,” I say annoyed as I pull my face back, looking down at him. The sweet look on his face almost makes me smile. Almost. He shouldn’t be here. I’ve moved on. Being so close to him again only confuses me. He can’t just expect things are going to pick up from where they left off.

“I’m not letting you go until you agree to talk to me.”

“Fine,” I say sighing. “I’ll talk to you, but you need to let me go first.”

“Okay,” he says, releasing me. I immediately stand. If we’re going to talk, I need distance. A lot of distance. I take a few steps back from the bed. “Why are you here?”

“I told you, I miss you,” he replies, sitting up again.

“I have a boyfriend, Carter. Remember? You can’t just waltz back into my life five years later, after no goodbye, no contact, and expect to carry on as if nothing happened. You broke my heart when you left.” I feel tears sting my eyes, but thankfully I manage to keep them down. I refuse to let him see my weakness.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, exhaling. “I thought leaving you behind was for the best …” His eyes meet mine and the sadness I see tears at my heart. “I fucked up. I know that.”

“Yes, you did. I understand why you felt you had to go, but you could’ve contacted me. Anything would’ve been better than nothing.” I wrap my arms around myself, trying hard to hold my emotions at bay.

“Do you love him, Indi?” I turn my face away from his. I can’t look at him and say this.

“Yes.” Although he doesn’t evoke the kind of feelings Carter did in the past, I care for Mark. A lot. He’s sweet. He treats me like a princess. He’d never leave me the way Carter did. With him I have a future. With Carter, all I have are memories. That’s all I’ll ever have. He doesn’t speak for the longest time. When my gaze moves back to him, I find his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. I feel like a bitch. “I’m sorry, Carter.”

“Don’t be,” he says, his sad eyes meeting mine. “I let you go, and now I have to live with it.”

“Carter,” I whisper, walking towards the bed and sitting beside him. “I’ll always treasure the time we spent together as kids. Always. But, that was in the past. We’re not kids anymore.”

“I guess,” he replies. “Although, you were the kid back then, remember? Not me.”

“Whatever,” I say bumping my shoulder with his. I see the corners of his lips turn up. I knew that would have to come up eventually. Some things will never change. “Surely you have someone special back home?” He’s gorgeous. I don’t doubt that the girls fall all over him, just like they used to when he lived here. I’m not sure I want to hear his answer, but I’m in a relationship. It would be selfish of me not to want the same for him.

“No. You know me, I was never one for commitment.” Don’t I know it? It saddens me that he still hasn’t changed after all this time. He’s a good guy deep down. He deserves someone special in his life.

“That’s sad, Carter.”

“That’s my life, I guess,” he says with a shrug. My hand comes up and rubs his back. I’m not sure how much of this is the alcohol talking.

“Tell me about your life. What have you been up to? Where are you living?” It’s something I’ve always wondered, but I also want to change the subject. This conversation is too depressing.

“I live up north, in Newcastle.”

“Really? It’s beautiful up there,” I say. Meg and I went up there for a weekend away a few years back. I can’t believe I was so close to him.

“It is. I have my own business. I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Wow. I’m glad you put your talent to use. You were always so good with your hands.”

“You better believe it, sweetheart,” he says wiggling his eyebrows, making me laugh.

“You’re still full of yourself I see.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t miss my hands on you? I bet lover boy doesn’t make you feel the way I used to.”

“I’m not going there with you, just drop it,” I snap, standing. His words sting because they’re true.

“Because I’m right,” he replies in a cocky tone. He is, but I’d never admit it. Never. My sex life with Mark is pretty bland. It’s rarely spontaneous, and always in a bed. He’s not as adventurous as Carter, but he still satisfies me, so that’s the main thing. Sometimes I wish for more, but great sex isn’t everything, I suppose.

“Can we change the subject, please?” I’m happy to talk about our current lives, but not sex. Mark wouldn’t approve of that, and I’d have to agree. It’s totally inappropriate. Especially given our past.

“Sure,” he says with a sigh. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to since I left?”

“Not much. College, work, that sort of thing.”

“I had a feeling you’d go to college. What did you study?” he asks.

“Veterinary Science. I’m a Veterinarian.”

“Really? Wow. I never knew you wanted to be a Vet.”

“I didn’t, but after Lassie …” I hear my voice crack as I speak.

“Fuck,” he says rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. Poor fucking Larry.” When I look at him, I see tears glisten his eyes. I can’t go over this again. Earlier today was hard enough.

“You hungry?” I ask trying to change the subject. I need to get him out of my room. I can’t seem to function properly with him sitting on my bed.

“I guess. But, not just for food.” His hands reach out for me, but I slap them away.

“Well food is all I’ve got,” I tell him as I turn to leave. When he doesn’t get up, I look at him over my shoulder. “Are you coming or what?”

“Sure,” he says half-heartedly. His disappointment is evident. That’s too bad. It pisses me off that he thinks it’s okay to make advances at me. No matter how much he’s had to drink, he should know better. He needs some food to sober up, and I need distance. Thankfully, he follows me into the kitchen.

“Do you want a toasted cheese sandwich?” I ask.

“Okay, thanks.” When he starts to walk towards me, I point at the table. Distance. I need distance. Having him close is just too much.

“Sit,” I command. A boyish smile appears on his face before he turns and does what I asked. He’s a little unsteady on his feet. It makes me wonder just how much he’s had to drink. “Do you get drunk like this often?”

“Nope.”

“Then why tonight?” I ask, placing a glass of water in front of him. His glassy eyes meet mine. I see sadness and maybe a touch of anger.

“Cos I felt like it. I see you haven’t changed. You’re still fucking nosey,” he retorts. I suppose being back here isn’t easy for him, so I ignore his snide remark.

I make four toasted sandwiches. Two each. I didn’t eat much when Mark and I went out for dinner. My stomach was in knots after our little altercation with Carter. “Here you go,” I say, placing the plate in front of him.

“Ta,” is all he says as he picks up one of the sandwiches and takes a bite. I find myself sneaking glances at him when he’s not looking. His face is so rugged, so handsome. Is it possible he’s grown even more beautiful over the years, because I’m certain he has? I shouldn’t even be thinking that, but I am.