The alternative is incomprehensible. Last night I let down all my barriers. I think he did too. He was nothing like the old smartarse Carter. He was loving, attentive, and extremely sweet. I gave him everything. Every piece of me. Even my heart. Last night just confirmed that I’m still in love with him. He’s it for me. What Mark and I shared doesn’t even compare to what Carter and I have when we’re together. It’s mind-blowing.

We stayed in bed until late Sunday afternoon. I woke midmorning to find him lying beside me watching me sleep. It was a little daunting. I hope I wasn’t dribbling or anything. I woke again a few hours later to his smiling face between my legs. Let me just say it’s an amazing way to be woken up. We’ve had so much sex, I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to walk when we finally get up.

We need to get out of bed soon. Elizabeth is cooking dinner for us. She found out I was in here with Carter when he snuck out to the kitchen to get us some food. Apparently my dad is coming over as well.

I’ll have to go home to shower and change. I only have the dressing gown I wore here last night. That’s definitely not appropriate for dinner attire. Especially since it’s with our parents.

“I suppose I better go home and shower,” I tell him, rolling on to my side to face him.

“I’m not ready to let you go yet,” he replies, pulling me into him. “Shower here, with me.”

“I have to go home. I have no clothes.” When he smiles sheepishly, I know he’s concocting a plan.

“If I get you some clothes, will you stay and shower with me?” He raises his eyebrows, hopefully. I love his sweet side. It’s adorable.

“What? You’re going to go to my room and pick me out something to wear?” I ask, intrigued and a tad horrified.

“Hell yeah. Don’t you trust me?” With a smile like that, I don’t think so.

“Definitely not,” I screech. He flips me onto my back and pins me to the mattress. “I can just imagine what you’d choose. We’re eating with our parents remember?” The look on his face has me smiling. He’s trying to act offended, but I know he’s not. He knows I’m right. He’ll probably dress me like a damn hooker. The skimpier the better. I know his type.

“I’ll prove you wrong,” he says leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on my nose before pushing himself up and off the bed.

“Carter. I’ll go and get something and come back and shower with you,” I offer, sitting up.

“No need. I’ve got this.” He winks at me as he pulls on a pair of jeans. Got this my arse. I’m not sure how I feel about him going through my drawers. I have nothing incriminating in there. Well I hope I don’t.

When he jumps out the window, I get up and grab one of his T-Shirts, pulling it over my head. By the time I rush towards the glass he’s already inside my room. Ugh! This should be interesting.

He’s back a few minutes later looking all pleased with himself. When he passes me his selection through the window, I burst out laughing. A tiny pair of shorts and a skimpy little top. I knew it. I know him better than he thinks.

“You do realise it’s winter, don’t you?”

“You don’t need warm clothes, you’ve got me,” he smirks. I shake my head. I can’t help but laugh at his serious face.

“Can you go and grab something more suitable? Better still, let me do it,” I say rolling my eyes.

“So you’re not going to wear these?” he asks, taking them out of my hand and holding them up, disappointed. “I wanna see you in these, you’ll look hot.” I start to laugh.

“I’m not wearing that to dinner, Carter.”

“Will you dress in them later when we’re alone?” The pleading look on his face has me nodding my head.

“But not for dinner.” I lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips.

“Fine,” he says, his shoulders slightly slumping. “I’ll go get something a little less revealing.” Before I get a chance to protest, he’s heading towards my house again.

“I need underwear too, by the way.”

“I’m on it,” he calls out, looking over his shoulder before hauling himself into my room. My eyes are glued to his arse. God it really is one fine arse. Round, tight, and delicious.

A few minutes later he reappears at my window smiling like a fool. My gaze moves to the black lace teddy in his hand. Far out. He’s going through my underwear drawer. I shake my head vigorously, but he nods before screwing it up and stuffing it in his pocket. I bury my face in my hands. I knew this was a bad idea.

I can’t help but admire the strain of his muscles when he uses his arms to push himself through the window of his room a few minutes later. He really is a sight. This time he has a red hoody and a pair of black yoga pants in his hand. That’s more like it. His smile grows when he passes me my black lace bra and matching panties.

“Fuck you have some sexy underwear,” he says with a whistle. “I’m expecting a fashion parade in the near future.”

“I don’t think so,” I laugh as I snatch my clothes out of his other hand. “And the teddy you stashed in your pocket,” I demand holding my hand out to him.

“Fuck no. That’s for later,” he replies as he pulls it out, placing it into the top drawer of his bedside table. “So is this,” he adds, pulling my pink vibrator out of his back pocket. Fucking hell. I’d forgotten that was in there.

“Give me that,” I snap as I lunge towards him, but he’s too quick. He raises his arm, holding it high in the air so I can’t reach. When I jump to try and grab it, he starts laughing. “Carter,” I whine. “Give it to me.”

“Sorry, beautiful. I can’t do that. From this day forward, I forbid you to use it without my permission. If you want to get off by a toy,” he says waving it in my face, “then I’m gonna watch.” Forbid me my arse. Who the hell does he think he is?

“You can’t forbid me to do shit,” I retort, folding my arms across my chest.

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re mine now. So, I can, I will, and I just did.” He places his finger gently on the tip of my nose, so I swat it away.

“You’re an arse,” I retort, but the mine comment he made is not lost on me. I’m smiling on the inside.

“I know, but I’m your arse,” he says pulling me into his arms, covering my mouth with his. He slides his hands up my outer thighs, moving them under his T-shirt and cupping my arse. “Fuck you look sexy wearing my clothes.”

••••

D-day. My stomach is in knots as we travel to the hospital for my MRI. Positive thoughts. That’s what I keep telling myself. Carter, my dad, and Elizabeth are with me for moral support. I’m grateful, but if I had my way I would’ve gone it alone. Hearing that I had a tumour the other day was the worst, but seeing the look of devastation on Carter and my dad’s faces was even harder.

When we arrive, I have to see the doctor first. He just wants to touch base and explain what will be happening today. Of course Carter follows me into the room without a formal invite. Presumptuous arse. I do love how supportive he’s been, but I still narrow my eyes at him when he sits beside me in the doctor’s office looking all smug. Naturally, he smiles and reaches for my hand when I do that. It’s obvious he enjoys getting under my skin.

The procedure seems pretty straightforward. The doctor explains that an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) uses a powerful magnetic field, radio frequency pulses and a computer to produce detailed pictures of organs, soft tissue, bone and virtually all other internal body structures.

There are no side effects associated with the scan, but he informs me that I may feel claustrophobic being confined in such a small space for around an hour. If that’s the case, I’ll have a buzzer in my hand that I can press, and I can be given a light sedative to relax me if needed. Personally, I think staying still for that long is going to be the hardest part.