Friend Is a Four Letter Word Read Free Page A

on what is supposed to be a night shared with the people closest to you—makes my throat pinch tight and my eyes water.
    “The truth is what?” Carter asks, but his voice is different. I can’t pretend this has to do with his obligation to Quinn as her brother, because the way he asks, the way he looks at me, lets me know I’m the one he’s thinking about right now. He reaches over and brushes the hair from my face. “Hey, what is it?” He tips my chin so that I’m looking at him.
    I swallow hard and close my eyes, not wanting to untie the neat bow I have tied tight around my life and show any ounce of vulnerability. But, even though I know it’s a bad idea, I tell him anyway.
    “The truth is that I wish I were more like Quinn.”
    His lips curl into a slow smile that builds as I hold my breath, waiting on his next words. When he finally says them, my heart stops along with my lungs.
    “I don’t.”
    I shake my off the fluttery, warm feeling that floods me. I’m obviously in a weird place, reading too much into everything tonight. I’m totally blaming this on watching Quinn follow her heart and all that crap.
    I stumble over words trying to explain myself and ignore the way his simple statement undid me.
    “I mean how unapologetic she is about who she is. What she stands for. There’s no gray area with Quinn. There’s no pretense,” I say, breathing normally and even managing a nonchalant eyeroll.
    Carter moves dangerously close to me and says, “Eh, I think we’ve all got our secrets.”
    I shrug, because I’ve always been happy enough to keep mine wrapped in shiny paper for no one else to see. “I guess.”
    “What’s your plan after graduation?” Carter’s looking at me like he can see right through my cool and casual front, so I lock down tighter.
    Before I confess more crap I don’t need to tell a guy a hardly know.
    “I’m not sure,” I say, and that’s all I say.
    The truth is, my parents plan on shipping me off to a nice Christian university in some god-awful place like Idaho or something. I have no clue what I actually want to do, and haven’t had the nerve to break that to them yet. Next year—next year will be the year I stand up for myself.
    “Well, what do you want to do?” Carter asks. His sturdy arms are crossed over his chest again, and he has this sexy/annoying look on his face, like he’s waiting to hear an honest answer from me.
    Like he’s not buying my bullshit avoidance tactics.
    “Want?” I pause my steps for the briefest of seconds because the thought of what I want is as exciting as it is terrifying. “I haven’t been asked that question in a long time.”
    “Okay then, I’m asking you now. Shayna—” He pauses, because he doesn’t even know my last name.
    “Gillan,” I offer feeling like sharing this one totally normal detail is revealing more than I’m comfortable with. Carter’s convincing me to go way outside my comfort zone tonight.
    “Shayna Gillan,” he says, and I really dig the way my name rolls off his tongue, “what is your five year plan?”
    “Wait, five years?” A laugh bubbles up from my throat. Five years ? I don’t know where the hell I’ll be in five weeks. “I thought you just wanted to know where I was going to school?”
    His grin is slow and hypnotizing. “No one said anything about school, doll. What do you want?”
    “I want…” I swallow hard and bite my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling before I start again. “I want to find my own place. Not the place where my parents live, or the place where I go to college—I want to find my own place. Where I belong, you know?” It comes out rushed and leaves me feeling embarrassed before all the words are even out of my mouth.
    Carter looks away and I think he whispers, “I do know…”
    “Like, we moved around a ton when I was growing up,” I blurt out.
    I should stop, I know I should stop, but I don’t. I just keep bulldozing all this information on top of a guy