Carter's hand stays on my leg the whole ride home.

It's all I can concentrate on as he drives down familiar streets, eyes fixed straight ahead. His fingers stay painstakingly still against my thigh, the tips stopping just before the dip between my legs. If he notices me squirm against my seat, he doesn't comment. His hand just stays in place and doesn't move an inch, no matter how bad I want it to.

No matter how bad I want him.

And maybe I shouldn't, not after the night we've already had. I'm emotionally drained after our talk at the log, made worse by the ten minutes spent cleaning up Carter's set up. Maybe my mind should be glued to the secrets he revealed, ones I've been mulling over for most of my life. I should be working out how this could tie into his death, or possibly lead to a new clue. I should be focused on Mark.

But to be frank, a bitch is tired. I feel like I've been on go since waking up in New York, never once taking a selfish moment for myself. The falling out is something that's haunted me forever, but that chapter is finally closed. Even though there's still things I don't know, for the first time, I'm okay with not knowing — at least for tonight.

Besides, I really can't stop thinking about Carter's hands.

Where I want them, what I want them to do to me, things I've held myself back from thinking all week. Well, all my life really, except for nights when urges needed to be dealt with personally. I had to pull inspiration from somewhere, and it didn't hurt that his window was right there, either.

But my desire for Carter isn't something I have to deny anymore. The thought of his fingers roaming my bare skin, followed by his lips, then his tongue, makes it even harder to sit still. I'm genuinely surprised I'm having thoughts like this at all. Not because of Carter; this isn't the first time he's turned me on, and if I have it my way, it won't be the last. No, I'm surprised for one very specific reason.

Tyler. Hampton.

Now, I've never been one to romanticize things. Leading up to the night at Cameron's, I hadn't given much thought to swiping the old V-card. Tyler could've been anyone at that party, and I'm still not sure what made me drag him into one of the basement bedrooms. What I do know is, I wish this time travel shit was controllable so I could go back and tell myself fuck no, girl.

It wasn't anything special — it wasn't anything. I don't make it a habit to wear a watch, but I can estimate it lasted no more than two minutes... and that's being kind. Awkward, uncomfortable, and super unsatisfying, my first time had it all, and I was more than happy to get the hell out of there when he finally rolled off me. Was it what I was expecting? In some ways, yes.

Did I think it would bother me so much after? Definitely not.

It turned me off to sex almost instantly. I said as much to Chloe when I finally decided to tell someone; Mark just didn't feel like the right person for the talk. I think my exact words to her were, "You'll never catch me doing that shit again."

Who knew never meant a little over two weeks?

Carter shows no signs he's fighting the same urges. It's usually a chore for him to keep his hands to himself, but I think he might be holding back. Knowing him, he probably doesn't want to push me too far, not after everything he hit me with about Mark. His head is in the right place, considering my feelings.

Mine is in the gutter — and a million miles away, it seems.

"Am." Carter squeezes my thigh to get my attention, shooting firecrackers up my leg and straight to my core. I have no idea how long he's been talking, and the added pressure in his touch doesn't help me concentrate.

"What?" Ok, way too loud. For once, Carter hasn't turned on the radio, so the only sound I'm competing with is the low whistle of the open windows.

He glances over at me with mild concern, and I kick myself for giving him another reason to treat me delicately. I adjust my volume by several notches. "Sorry, my head's just all over the place with, um... thoughts."

His gaze lingers a second longer before flickering back to the road. "Right. Thoughts."

My eyes narrow when I catch a twitch in his mouth. Was that a smirk, or just a trick of the light as he drives under the street lamps? Before I can decide, he's talking again.

"Well, at the risk of giving you more to think about, I was asking if Ronnie told you about anything else besides their childhood. Anything about the day of Darren's party?"

Yeah, our thoughts are in very different places.

The question throws me off. I scramble to recall the rest of the conversation with Ronnie — was that really only hours ago? — then sigh. "No. I never got around to asking. He's been through so much, Carter, and with everything I already made him tell me about you and Mark... I couldn't make him relive that day, too. Besides, he's not the easiest person to communicate with. It wasn't until Mark's phone rang that— oh my god, his phone! Ronnie had his phone!"

My hands fly into my pockets, rummaging around keys and bits of trash I've stuffed in them over the last few days.

"The one from 2008?" Carter asks skeptically. "Would that thing work now?"

"In my opinion, they made phones sturdier back when we were in high school." Right on cue, I pull out my own phone and set it on the middle console, cracked screen facing up. "We need to go to an Apple Store, by the way."

"Jesus, Amber, that's the third one this month."

I barely notice Carter's groaning when my fingers don't find anything else.

"It's not here." I check two more times, then really think. "Damn it. I threw it in the front seat of Charlie's car. Do you think he's still up?"

"I'm pretty sure the man stays up past ten, babe," Carter chuckles.

I get stuck on that word — babe. I never categorized myself as a pet name kind of girl, but my skin goes hot hearing it. The sound of his laugh caresses my senses, filling in the spaces where his hands should be. Instead, they're both on the wheel as he takes the final turn onto our street. Immediately, I want him to turn around. I want Charlie to be asleep so we can't get the phone. Some excuse so we have to wait until tomorrow. Anything to give me just a little more time with him.

Then, my old house comes into view. Not only is every light off inside, but the driveway is totally empty.

"Ah, shit," Carter curses under his breath. "That was tonight, wasn't it. Don't freak out, but he asked for a night off earlier this week. Guess he has a buddy down in Philly that he hasn't seen in awhile. I promise, we'll get it from him the minute he's back tomorrow."

I work my face up into one of disappointment. "Well, damn it all to hell."

His eyes study me suspiciously; mine slide past him and lock onto my house. Knowing that it's empty, I'm struck with an idea.

"Stop." We inch a little further till we're almost past my front yard. "Here, Carter, stop."

"What's the matter?" The car jerks as Carter hits the brakes. He takes in my expression, follows my gaze to the house, then turns back to me. "You wanna go in?"

My heart hammers in my chest as I weigh my options. Staring up at the basic brick building I call home, it feels like someplace foreign. I've caught glimpses of it while at Carter's but never let myself linger for long. Recently, it's started to feel less like my own and more like a distant memory. But it is still mine, and for the first time ever, I'm excited to go inside. I've been away from my own bed long enough, and I'm suddenly dying to be in it.

Just... not to sleep in it.

"Do you mind? Since it's not that late and everything..." I keep my tone light, trying my best to disguise where my head's at. I'm not sure Carter will go for it tonight, but getting him out of his parents' house seems like the best first step.

He's picking up on something, though. His eyes sharpen as he searches my face, resting on my lips for an agonizing second before flickering back to my gaze. I can tell he doesn't know exactly what I'm thinking, but he shuts the car off.

"Yeah, sure, let me go grab the key. I think I threw it in one of the kitchen drawers a few years ago."

"Don't worry about it," I say, swinging my door open to hop out the car. My fingers are already in my hair as I walk up the front drive. "We don't need a key."

Taking the porch steps two at a time, a buzzing crawls up my skin the closer I get to the door. I yank a bobby pin loose, then run my fingers along the familiar metal knob. My mind wanders back to the last time I walked through this door, slamming it behind me and shutting Carter out. It feels right that I'm using it now to finally let him in.

I can feel the moment he's behind me, his body heat penetrating through my jacket. He stands just shy of touching my back, out of reach like an itch I just can't scratch. Shaking my fingers out to stop them from trembling, I fiddle with the pin till it's straight, then slide it into the lock. His close proximity makes it impossible to concentrate, but luckily, I don't need to. Muscle memory clears the chamber, turns the pin, and pushes the door open.

Walking over the threshold, it's... anticlimactic. It feels no different than any other time I've done it, and I'm not hit with the nostalgia I was expecting. More like that feeling after a week-long vacation. The same furniture adorns the living room, the same generic pictures hang on the walls; overall, it looks like I didn't change a thing. There's a slight sense of comfort that I admit I've missed, but thankfully, no overwhelming feelings. Nothing like when I walked into his house.

"I'll tell you about your family. Why you weren't at the party." The front door closes with a resounding click. I turn to find Carter leaning against it, his eyes trained on my every move. "I don't want to keep anymore secre —"

"It's okay." I shrug out of my jacket and let it fall to the floor. "Not tonight."

"Amber," he starts, but my hand on his chest stops the thought in its tracks. His pulse jumps beneath my fingertips, which only excites me more. I let my touch travel up his neck until it rests against his jaw, my thumb tracing the line of his bottom lip. His breaths turn shallow as I tease him, my other hand grazing the exposed skin beneath the hem of his shirt.

"Tomorrow," I whisper, tilting my head so our lips brush. "Tell me tomorrow."

The kiss is light as a feather, yet my body flushes at the contact. He doesn't return it straight away, and for a moment, I panic that he'll shut me down. But then his hands are on my waist, gripping me with an intensity that lets me know he's holding himself back. Faster than I'm expecting, he flips us so I'm against the door, his body pressing me firmly in all the right places.

"You're sure?" He's asking, but the electricity between us is answer enough. Hooded eyes rake over my body, his composure barely under control.

I answer by twisting my fingers in his hair and crashing his lips down on mine. There's no hesitation from Carter now; his hands roam as he kisses me back, running up and down my sides, trying to pull me closer. Melting under his touch, I'm desperate to shed the barriers between us. Reading my mind, Carter fingers the hem of my shirt, then lifts it effortlessly over my head.

Goosebumps prickle my exposed arms as they snake back around his neck. I hitch a leg around his waist and he follows my lead, lifting me up so my ankles lock around his waist. His mouth doesn't miss a beat, moving from my lips, down my jaw, then dropping to where my neck meets my shoulder. I arch against him, throwing my head back as he works his way further and further down my chest.

"Please tell me the beds are still here, too," I gasp just as he reaches the dip between my breasts, then add, "Preferably not just my parents'."

Carter snorts against my skin before dragging his mouth back to mine. A strong arm winds itself around my waist, pulling me tight against his body. Securing my legs, I let him bear my weight as he carries me over to the stairs. I break the kiss to trail soft ones down his neck, nudging at his jacket impatiently as he climbs. But just as I go to slide it off his shoulders, he trips on the last step, nearly sending us to the ground.

"Oh shit," he laughs, catching himself on the banister. I tighten my grip around his neck, fighting to hold on and keep my own composure. We're both in hysterics by the time Carter pushes his way into my room, but my laughter cuts off when we cross over the threshold.

I slide down from his arms, landing softly on the plush carpet I've had since I was young. Spinning slowly, I'm finally hit with something — sentiment. My old bedroom set looks worn down by years of use, but the same scratches and stains adorn the wood. The glow in the dark stars we put up as children still twinkle from the ceiling, and my cinnamon candle makes me instantly think of home. My curtains, my pictures, even my old bedspread; everything is here.

Carter comes up behind me and sweeps my hair away from my shoulder. He kisses it softly, then works his way up my neck, his fingers tangling in my curls. When he reaches my ear, he nibbles on the lobe, making my breath hitch.

"The things I wanna do to you..." he whispers huskily, and instantly, I'm drenched.

Through a lust-filled haze, I spin around to face him. "Do you have protection?"

He laughs loudly at that, so hard tears brim his eyes. "Ok, that's probably your funniest joke yet."

When he kisses me this time, I indulge in it, exploring the parts of him he's kept hidden from me. His mouth is even sweeter, the taste of him rich like honey. I thought his smell was intoxicating before, but now it's all consuming, flooding my senses with nothing but him. His hands are more sure as they lead me towards the bed, tugging at me until we go tumbling onto the mattress.

Leaning back against my pillows, I watch in agony as Carter takes his time stripping away the layers. His eyes don't leave mine as he slips off his jacket, but when he tugs at the collar of his shirt, he wiggles his eyebrows and lets it fall back in place.

"Gah, c'mon," I whine, kicking at him playfully. "Don't you think I've waited long enough?"

He shoots me a smug look before pulling the shirt over his head. "I'd get some patience if I were you. When it comes to this, I like to take my time."

My stomach flips at his suggestive tone, which does absolutely nothing for my patience. Unfortunately, Carter keeps his word and slowly undresses me, peeling away my clothes like the petals of a rose. Slipping the straps of my bra down my shoulders, he reaches under me and unhooks it effortlessly, then throws it across the room. He caresses the curve of my hips as he slides my jeans down, then kisses his way back up the length of my leg. I'm shaking by the time he reaches my inner thigh, his teeth grazing the edge of my panties.

Ok — fuck patience.

I hook my thumbs on the thin waistband and tug my underwear down to my thighs. Carter pulls them the rest of the way off, but his gaze stays locked on me. I've never been so vulnerable in front of someone before, not even that night with Tyler. But lying here naked in Carter's arms, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

"Damn, I've missed your body," he murmurs, running a single finger along the plains of my skin.

"Funny," I say breathlessly as my own fingers work their way towards his belt buckle. "I can't seem to remember yours."

His face breaks into the most beautiful smile, one free of restraint or hesitation. It's the smile I haven't seen since we were kids. It's the smile I hope will never go away again.

"Well then," he teases, lowering himself into the space between my legs. "Let's get you reacquainted."

Morning light streams in through the crack in my blinds, highlighting the streaks of gold in Carter's hair. I push strands of it away from his forehead as I stare into his eyes, our pillows only inches apart.

" 'Tell her I'm sorry.' "

"Tell who?" He runs lazy fingers up my bare back, tracing out indistinguishable shapes along the skin. There are hints of sleep still left in his eyes, the result of a late night very well spent. Let's just say, I definitely understand why they say patience is a virtue.

"Me. That's what Mark said, right? 'Tell her I'm sorry.' " Under the sheets, I run my toes along his ankle. "Was that how he said it?"

Quirking a brow, Carter props his head up with his elbow so he can look down at me. "Interesting choice of pillow talk. Wouldn't have been my first pick."

"You said the same thing to me yesterday, but about Ronnie. I didn't know what you meant then, so it just made me think of Mark. Of what he had said to you."

Carter sighs, then plants a firm kiss against my forehead. "We all just had that fight the day before. Of course he'd want to make things right with you before it was too late."

"But that's the thing, I don't think the apology was for me. Not after what you told me last night." When he stays quiet, I voice the thought aloud for the first time. "Sure, it could've been for what he did at the log, but what if he was saying it to you? You're the only person he ever hurt in his life by making you stay away from me. What if he finally wanted me to know the truth so he could make things right with you? Tell her," a beat, "I'm sorry."

Carter's still looking at me, but I can tell he's not really here. I watch as his mind travels back to the party, but it doesn't seem to pain him as much as before. He doesn't answer me right away — at least, not verbally. He leans down and kisses me, slow and sweet. It nearly makes me forget what we were talking about.

"Well, when you go back and save him, we can both forgive him. No matter who the apology was for," he says finally, tucking a few curls behind my ear.

I drop my gaze down to his chest. "If I go back."

A pause. "Since when is it if?"

Sighing, I give him a quick peck, then sit up against the headboard, gathering the sheets around myself to fight off the draft. I guess it wouldn't make sense to heat a house no one lives in.

"What if I don't go back?" I ask quietly, twisting my fingers in the blanket. "I haven't had a vision in days. Every time we're close to finding a clue about Mark, it's another dead end. At first, I just thought that if we tried harder or looked closer, we were bound to find something, because that's what this was all about, right? Saving Mark. But what if it's always been about Darren? Finding out what he did and getting justice for Mark's death. What if... what if he's really gone?"

It's hard to face the idea that I really might never see Mark again. If I had the same thoughts days ago, it would've been enough to send me spiralling. But somewhere along the way, part of me must've made peace with the possibility. I don't know when, but this life with Carter has slowly become something I don't want to let go. Even though I've lost ten years of my life, I feel like I've gained something worth it to move on.

Carter sits up and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. "Then we'll do the only thing we can do. Mourn him. Remember him. Make sure that whoever was responsible for his death faces the consequences, whatever it takes. But more importantly, we'll do it together."

Despite the dark topic, I smile. "God, it turns me on when you're emotionally supportive." I lean up and plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, just wait," Carter says, pulling me into his lap until I'm straddling his hips. "You haven't even seen support."

I snort at his terrible line, but don't try denying its effectiveness. I kiss him full on this time, parting my lips and encouraging him to do the same with a nudge of my tongue. He welcomes it willingly, readjusting my position until his arousal for me sits between my legs. My stomach dips with anticipation as I gear up for round four, — five? I've lost count at this point — but the sound of the door opening downstairs makes us both freeze in place.

"Please tell me you guys aren't having sex up there," a deep voice calls up the stairs.

My eyes widen in shock when I don't recognize it. How did we forget to lock the door last night? Just as I'm about to ask, I take in Carter's face. Instead of fear or confusion, all I find is a goofy smile.

"Is this your normal reaction when people break into the house? Because if so, we're gonna have to talk about that."

He just laughs. "I can't believe we forgot. Today's Friday."

I stare at him a second longer, then realization dawns. Exactly a week ago, we were still in New York, talking about a phone call he had made. It feels like so long since Carter told me he was coming, but now reminded, my heart hammers in my chest for an entirely new reason.

"Ben?" I shout out my open bedroom door. What's with us and not securing the doors?

"I believe you meant to say Captain." I hear it now, the familiar lilt in the voice. "I'll try to forgive your informality."

Without hesitation, I jump off of Carter and rush towards the hallway, then backtrack, remembering that I am very naked. It's a scavenger hunt trying to find all my clothes, my bra taking the longest. I finally spot it in the far corner of my room, but when I secure the clasp and search the rest of the floor, my shirt is still nowhere to be found.

"It's downstairs," Carter says. He tosses me his own shirt, "And your drawers are all empty. Go, I'll be down in a minute."

I'm sprinting out the door before the last word leaves his mouth.

I pull the shirt over my head just before I turn the corner, stopping short on the top step. Staring down the staircase, the man at the bottom is a stranger. His hair is in dreads and pulled up in a ponytail, showing off a strong bone structure. He's at least six feet tall, even taller than my father, his head almost brushing the ceiling. For a split second, I'm afraid my mind is playing tricks on me again; I've learned not to trust everything I see anymore.

Then, he opens his mouth.

"Yup," he says, popping the 'p' extra loud. Ben holds up my shirt from yesterday and looks pointedly at the one dwarfing me now. "You guys were totally having sex."

I saw them when he was talking, but when he smiles, there's no denying it's him. Somehow, the kid never grew into those two front teeth; they're just as big and beautiful as I remember them.

"Ben," I cry, flying down the stairs two at a time until I'm in his arms. He swings me around the foyer, nearly smacking my legs into the bannister before placing me back on the ground, both of us dizzy.

"That's by far the happiest you've ever been to see me," he laughs, ruffling my hair just like Dad used to. "You should lose your memory more often."

I laugh through the tears that spill down my cheeks. "I'm gonna forget you even said that, which just shows how much I missed you."

He pulls me into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of my head. "I missed you too, Commander."

We stay like that for a while, standing in the house we survived together. When we pull apart, I know he feels it too, the emptiness of a space we once called home. Carter said there were things Ben wanted to tell me, but now that he's here, I'm scared. Based on the underlying worry in my brother's eyes, I'm guessing I should be.

"Seriously though, how's your head?" he asks, sobering up. "Any, uh, memories come back to you?"

"She remembers the things that matter," Carter interrupts from the steps. He walks down them about halfway, wearing only his jeans from last night. "But no change since we last talked."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Ben mutters under his breath.

"It's alright, I've gotten pretty good at receiving bad news over the last week. I doubt something about Mom and Dad will be any harder to handle."

"I guess... it's just," he sighs sharply, "this is basically the last thing I wanna do on my birthday."

"Holy shit, your birthday!" My excitement drowns out the dread building in my stomach. "Don't worry about it then, whatever you gotta tell me can wait till tomorrow. We'll just party it up today. You wanna do breakfast or something?"

"Actually, breakfast is already on the agenda." Ben's gaze darts up to Carter briefly. "We have a reservation at the diner in an hour."

"Oh, thank God, I'm starving." I grab my shirt from Ben and start to head for the guest bathroom. "Let me just change so Carter doesn't have to go shirtless."

"Afraid I gotta sit this one out, babe." He takes the last few steps and slings an arm around my shoulders. "I'm heading next door for some much needed time with Brynn. Plus, Charlie should be back in about an hour anyway. I'll grab the phone and bring it with me when I pick you up. And hey," he caress my cheek and pulls me in close, "thank you for last night."

I know he's not talking about the sex, but I nip at his bottom lip teasingly. "It was my pleasure."

Chuckling, he gives me a final kiss and tap on the ass before bounding back up the stairs to grab his keys.

"I'm right here, you know." Ben throws his hands up in fake indignation.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me little bro." I bunch Carter's shirt up in the back so it fits me better. "We've got about ten years of sibling bonding to catch up on, so let's hit the road!"

"Yeah," Ben helps me into my coat, "about that."

I pause. "Oh God, what?"

"The reservation is for four..."

My eyes flicker to the front door as if they'll walk through it any second. "Mom and Dad? They're here?"

Ben hesitates for a solid beat. "Kind of."

He doesn't elaborate and instead opens the door for me, letting in the late morning sun. Parked out front is a small SUV, with two people occupying the front seats. I can just make out the silhouette of Dad at the wheel, but his face is blocked by the woman riding shotgun. Even from this distance, I can tell it isn't Mom, raising my suspicion even more.

"Who's that lady with Dad?" I look up at Ben and find him already studying me, the same worry evident in his eyes.

"That lady's name is Callie," Ben sighs, taking my hand and leading me to the car. "And there are some things she needs to tell you."