Miranda would like to say the next three and half months were filled with diligent studying and companionable discussions. But it would be a bald faced lie.
Miranda and Carl fought.
All. Of. The. Time.
Sometimes it would get as vicious and visceral as their first confrontation. But mostly it was just arguing about the theme of the day. It ranged from what he was working on, to what she was cooking, to politics, religion, science, philosophy. Sometimes it would get so bad that Carl would get up and storm off, “needing a smoke break.”
Every time Miranda's heart would stumble and she would fear that he wouldn't come back this time.
But he always came back the next day. Never with an apology, at least not a vocal one. But he'd show up, stare at her for a handful of heartbeats, and they'd sit down to work.
Honestly, it was the most bizarre tutoring experience Miranda had ever had. Mostly it was because after about the first week it became apparent that Carl didn't need a tutor at all.
He was brilliant.
He dropped needless classes, buckled down on the ones he did need, and pulled his grade back up. By the end of the first semester, he was leading in all of his classes. Miranda couldn't take credit, she wanted to, but it just wasn't the case. Half the time he was explaining things to her.
Then the second semester started and things really got different. Carl's classes were much harder, more advanced. He reached a point where Miranda couldn't really help him because her field of study was in the opposite direction. She was working on simultaneous BA/MA in History of Art and Architecture degrees. And Carl was majoring in aerospace engineering.
She didn't know it was possible, but his surliness actually increased. So did his appetite. Miranda took to feeding him. Her family loved it, especially her mom. Miranda was making gourmet dinners every night for the whole family, which Carl was consistently a part of.
Oh, and another thing, her family was totally in love with him. Harrison was still a little nervous around him, but that was because Carl didn't let him get away with giving Miranda a hard time. Which Miranda had noticed but didn't mention. She wasn't sure what to think about it. It made her feel things, though. Things that a tutor shouldn't feel for her student. So she mostly ignored it.
Every so often she would catch him watching her, staring at her. She'd wait for him to notice that she noticed and he'd just give her one of his rare grins. But he never said anything about it. And she didn't ask.
She just... couldn't.
“It makes perfect sense, you just have art head.”
Miranda rolled her eyes at the half-hearted attempt to insult her. She knew that if he was really trying he'd come up with something better.
“Yep. Nailed it. Art head.” He actually wasn't wrong. She was so worn out these days it was a miracle her body still woke up every morning after its allotted two hours of sleep. “Ugh.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head face-first to the table top.
“Hey,” Carl's normally hard voice said softly. “You okay?”
She groaned and gurgled a reply that was mostly just noise.
Warm fingers slid into her hair at the crown and began a deep, slow massage. Miranda melted, feeling the tension in her neck and scalp respond accordingly.
“Oh my...” she sighed, feeling the temptation to fall asleep right there take center stage in her thoughts.
“My girl's wearing herself out,” Carl muttered, sounding a lot closer than a second ago.
Those words registered in the place in her brain where she let herself feel good when he protected her food from Harrison. In other words, she knew it was wrong, but she liked it. She liked it a whole freaking bunch.
Another hand joined the first, this one moving her hair off of her neck. Yes, Carl must be a lot closer.
“C'mere,” he commanded gently, pulling her upright and towards him.
Miranda went where his hands moved because it felt natural for his hands to be on her body. It had never happened before but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was right.
She opened her eyes as she faced him. His chair had been moved closer and he sat sideways, his legs spread apart. He pulled her in between them, sliding one hand along her hip, while the other remained in her hair. He tugged until her forehead was on his shoulder and she was resting most of her weight against him. She wound her arms around him to have something to do with them, and her hands clutched at his back, feeling his heat through his thin t-shirt.
Miranda closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. She was surrounded by Carl. She'd caught little hints of his scent before, but now she was overwhelmed with it. Leather, tobacco, mint, and old spice. It was an intoxicating combination, one that had her wanting to crawl deeper into his lap, wrap her limbs around him and never let go.
“You smell so good,” she said into the side of his neck, her lips brushing the skin.
“So do you,” he muttered into her ear, his deep voice sending little vibrations throughout her body. “Like strawberries.”
“It's my shampoo.”
He didn't stop or alter his relief to her scalp and after a few minutes, her headache eased into oblivion. But she didn't move. Because she didn't want to. She liked this space and this moment. All moments were bound to end, and Miranda decided to let this one go as long as possible. They weren't fighting, he was being sweet, and for this little bubble of time, she wasn't completely consumed by her future and what she had to do next.
“Does it feel better?” he asked, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.
“Mm-hm,” she confirmed, still not ready to move.
The hand in her hair came around to cup the side of her face and pull her away from his shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Carl staring at her again. This close, she could count every one of his black eyelashes. Also, this close, his scowl wasn't so intense.
“Thank you,” she whispered, awareness spreading through her body at how intimately he was holding her. His hand on her hip gripped her in response as if reminding her of that.
His thumb stroked the apple of her cheek and his eyes dropped to her lips. Miranda held her breath. She should stop him, he shouldn't kiss her. If he kissed her, she would have to end their study sessions and she would miss him terribly.
But, at the same time, she really wanted him to kiss her.
His thumb moved down to her mouth and did a slow drag across her bottom lip. His breath hissed on the inhale.
“Tell me you don't have a boyfriend,” he said roughly. “Because I swear to God, at this point, it might not even matter to me.”
“I don't have a boyfriend,” she said, watching him with more focus than she'd given anything in recent memory.
The world around them faded to black. Her awareness began and ended at the places where he touched her. She existed only in the hunger she could see in his eyes. Her next breath hinged on his.
His eyes bounced from her mouth to her eyes, searching, asking, finding the permission he wanted.
Miranda's eyes fluttered closed when his head slowly moved forward.
When his mouth touched hers, it didn't move. He kept it still. Not kissing, just in a hold, the sensitive skin of their lips brushing against each other with every breath. Miranda's heart danced a samba in her chest and her breathing quickened. Her lips parted to let out the excited air and she tasted Carl's breath mingling with her own. The sensation made her skin prickle and her blood buzz. Her entire body trembled with anticipation and she started to wonder if she would come apart on a molecular level if he didn't —
***
Carl had waited as long as could. It was literally causing him pain to have taken this long to get this far with Miranda.
Her softness in her arms, her breath mixed with his, her touch the only thing he was cognizant of...
Something inside of Carl broke forever.
He knew she was way out of his league. He knew she could take him and bruise him for eternity. But he didn't care. He wanted her anyway.
His lips and tongue took turns exploring her mouth. Her body pulsed in his hands the moment he gave into the kiss that had been on the tip of his tongue since the day they'd met. Her hands gripped his shirt in fists, pulling him to her, as if she were afraid he would try to pull away.
She was so wrong.
He wanted to tell her that he wasn't going anywhere. Not ever. But that would mean taking his mouth away from hers.
And that wasn't happening.
He'd been over every single day (not counting holidays) and he'd never seen a hint of a boyfriend. Or friends at all for that matter. But he had to make sure.
Because Miranda was fantastic.
The idea that she wasn't already on someone's radar kind of blew his mind. He'd even asked around at school and as far as he could tell, she was a free agent.
Not now, obviously.
Now she was his girl.
Finally.
And he was going to keep it that way for as long as possible.
“Carl,” she tried to say around his languid kisses.
“Yeah?”
“What's happening here?” she asked, completely breathless.
He smiled against her mouth, he'd done that to her. He'd turned her brain off for a few seconds and gotten her to let go.
“I'm kissing,” he placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. “My girl.” He moved his hands around and up her back, as he slid his tongue back into her mouth. She whimpered and surrendered, her hands letting go of his shirt and diving into his hair. Carl felt his eyes roll into the back of his head at the action.
There was something to be said for anticipation, that was for damn sure.
As they both began to heat up and pull at each other, he could feel her starting to slow down. Trying to calm herself.
“Just one more minute,” he murmured in her ear, listening to her body signals and slowing down the pace again. It wasn't like they could go much further right there in the kitchen of her parents' house.
And it it wasn't like Carl was looking to go that far right now anyway. But the kissing... he could kiss her forever.
He rested his forehead against hers and watched her as she caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered open and the shyest, most gorgeous smile filled his vision.
“You're staring at me again.”
“Not staring,” he corrected with a lopsided smile. “Adoring.”
She closed her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. “Oh Carl, what are you doing to me?”
“I'm pretty sure I'm loving you.”
Her eyes opened again with so many questions.
“Don't try to get rational with me, you suck at math anyway,” he started before she could begin arguing. She cracked a smile and he kept going. “Maybe I'm too young and...” he searched for an alternate word for stupid since he knew she wouldn't approve of that one. “Foolish for this to be what I think it is. Maybe hanging around you has turned me more into more of an idealist than anyone could have anticipated. But I don't think so.” He shook his head and looked at her soberly. “I think I'm just being realistic. I've never been in love before. And I've never felt like this before, so by process of elimination, you can see that I love you. It just is. Like gravity, or Harrison's bottomless stomach. Me loving you is just a truth.”
Miranda licked her lips and swallowed. “But I'm your tutor,” she whispered.
He felt his lips pull up on one side. “No, you're not.”
She frowned at him and he saw that flare in her eyes that he loved that meant she was getting ready to argue with him again.
“Ran,” he said softly. “We both know that I haven't needed a tutor this entire time.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly and his smile grew to include both sides.
“I needed someone who was smarter than me to put me in my place.” He took one of her hands and kissed the back of it. “And you did that.”
Her face softened again. “You think I'm smarter than you?”
“Woman.” He shook his head. “You know you are. But I didn't need your giant brain.”
“Then why...?”
“Have I been coming over every single day for three months?” he finished for her. “I thought that was obvious by now. I'll do anything to be near you.”
She let out a short laugh and shook her head. “This is crazy.”
“This is good,” he corrected her. “And now maybe you'll let me take you out sometimes.”
“Maybe,” she said.
He moved in to place a kiss on her cheek, then her lips. “Maybe we can make out in my truck.”
“As long as I can keep up on my schooling,” she said as he landed another kiss on her lips.
Carl frowned at her closed eyes, remembering her headache from earlier. “Yeah. That won't be a problem,” he promised before sealing it with one more kiss.
***
Miranda closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck.
“What's the matter?”
She looked up to see Carl had arrived and immediately smiled. He dropped his bag by the table and came straight to her.
“Nothing. Just trying to concentrate.”
Carl scowled out the sliding door in the direction of the all the ruckus. The set of his jaw had her coming out of her chair.
“It's fine, Carl. They'll be done soon enough.”
He turned his scowl on her, but because she knew it wasn't directed at her, she mostly thought it was sexy. No one could scowl like Carl.
One thing she had learned over their past month of dating was that Carl took his duties very seriously. Before, when he'd stepped in to keep Harrison from laying waste to her baked goods for charity organizations, that had only been a small sample of what he considered his “jurisdiction.”
Basically anything that bothered her, pissed him off. And then he'd attempt to destroy it.
That was just one example of what it meant to be Carl's girl.
He doted on her. Spoiled her. Gave her rides, helped out with her volunteer work. Anything that meant they could be together without her having to take time away from her obligations.
“It's not fine. You have to be able study. I'm gonna just tell them to turn it down a little.”
***
He heard Miranda chuckling behind him as he stormed out the back door. It wasn't so much that they were being loud. It was that they were being loud all the time. Every time he came over, there was racket coming out of that garage. How Stella and Gerard put up with it, he had no idea. He asked Stella once why she let that happen in her house and she said, “Because this way I know they're not jail.”
It's not that they were bad. They were actually very good. As far as Carl could tell anyway. But what did he know? He wasn't a musician.
He pounded on the garage door with his fist and waited for about two seconds before he pounded again.
“Dude,” a tow-headed kid of about sixteen said when he opened the door. “Do you have an appointment?”
“You think you guys could keep it down today? Miranda needs to get this paper finished.”
The kid gave him a blank stare.
“Is that Carl?” Harrison called from inside. “Carl, c'mere, I wanna show you something cool.”
Carl would have suspected an ambush except he'd actually been getting along a lot better with Miranda's brother since he'd started dating her. Whatever reservations Harrison had, must've been wrapped up in his protective instincts with his sister. Carl could respect that.
He stepped into the garage and was pleasantly surprised.
The three car garage had the space for a decent setup but Carl never suspected that eighteen year old kids would take the time to make that happen. He'd been wrong.
The equipment was new. From the instruments to the amps. A couple of couches had been set up against the back wall to serve as an audience. Even they were clean.
Rich kids and a dream. Carl could hardly keep a straight face.
“What do you need, Harry?” he asked, not wanting to waste a lot of time. He wanted to get back to Miranda soon. He hadn't seen her since yesterday and he wanted to ask her opinion on the geopolitical impact that releasing accidentally sex-charged mink into a community of retired war vets would have. He was obviously asking for a friend.
He couldn't wait to see her get all flustered and start to rant about the irresponsibility of everyone ranging from researchers to gardeners. God, he loved arguing with her. She was a flame of passion and righteousness and he only wanted to get closer to her. He hadn't grown up with that kind of conviction and he found he had a craving, even when he didn't agree with her point of view. He loved to hear it, explore it.
It was her sincerity, he decided. She really believed all the things she said she did. And she believed it and loved it with all of her heart.
Someday he was hoping she would love him like that.
That was also something he'd never experienced.
“Sit on the sofa and listen to this song,” Harrison instructed.
Carl sighed heavily, making it clear he wasn't happy about this, but he did as asked.
***
Miranda heard the band start up again and she smiled to herself, they had sucked him into their world. She'd be lucky if she ever saw him again.
“I like that smile on you.”
She looked up from her laptop to see her mom watching her in the doorway. Stella O'Neil gave her a wink and moved into the kitchen.
“I like that boy,” she said, opening the refrigerator and unloading various food stuffs.
“I like him too,” Miranda said softly. “What are you doing? I'll make dinner tonight.”
“You need a break. Besides if I don't get back in here, I'm bound to forget how to use my own kitchen.”
“I like to cook for you guys,” Miranda said with a half-shrug.
Stella glanced up and gave her a knowing smile. “I know. But you also cook when you're stressed out. I might not have as big a brain as you, but I know when my baby needs a break.”
Miranda sighed, facing the computer screen again — also known as the bane of her existence. “This semester is so much harder than I thought it was going to be.”
“Well, your plans didn't involve a boyfriend, if I'm remembering correctly.”
Miranda nodded absently. That was true. But it's not like Carl was really distracting her. He was tough about making sure she was doing what she wanted to be doing. He never tried to guilt her or talk her out of studying like she'd seen some of her friends have to experience. He was her biggest cheerleader if anything.
But he did take up a huge part of her thoughts every day.
Giving that up sounded awful.
Lately the only thing that didn't stress her out was Carl.
She even looked forward to his ridiculous debates. Probably because they usually ended with him kissing her breathless.
It did not suck.
“Hey, Ma?” she asked, leaving her chair and transferring to a stool at the breakfast bar. “Do you think I'm being smart about this thing with Carl?”
Stella paused, her hands freezing over the cheese she was crumbling. Her face and eyes went guarded and she took in a slow breath. “What do you mean, Miranda?”
Miranda put both elbows on the bar and stuck her chin in her hands. “I mean, I'm so very close to being done. Am I being fair to him? The only time he gets to see me is when he's helping me with my stuff. We never get to do the regular dating things, like go out.”
Stella nodded and swallowed. “I think I need a glass of wine. Do you need a glass of wine?”
Miranda shook her head.
“Gerard, do you want a glass of wine?”
Miranda pivoted her chin towards the door where her dad was standing. He moved to her and patted her shoulder as he took a seat.
“Hi, daddy.”
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Ma's avoiding answering my question,” Miranda pointed out glumly.
“I'm not avoiding. I'm thinking. And I might as well get myself a glass of wine while I do that.”
Gerard O'Neil smiled thoughtfully at his wife and cast a glance at Miranda. “I don't think it's a huge secret that we like Carl.”
“It's not,” Miranda agreed. “I like him too. A lot. I guess... I guess that's why I'm worried if I'm being fair to him. I feel like I'm taking a lot and I really haven't been able to give very much. It just feels really lopsided.”
“I think,” Gerard began, eyebrows dipping low. “That Carl is the kind of man who needs to make that judgment for himself. He got to know you, he knew your schedule and what you're working towards. He didn't walk into this blind.”
“That's true,” Miranda murmured.
“Please don't break up with him.”
Miranda's eyes shot up to her mom's. Stella's worried expression wasn't even kind of hidden.
“You thought I was going to break up with him?”
“You tend to pull away from the things in your life that don't...” She searched for the right words, her eyes scanning the counter top as if they would be found there. “Benefit the plan.”
Miranda's head jerked back. “Like what?”
Stella rolled her lips into her mouth. “Your friends, your hobbies, your skating.”
“I just don't have time for that right now. It's not like I forgot about them,” Miranda defended. She was a little hurt that her mom would bring those things up. Miranda missed her friends and skating like crazy. But they all knew sacrifices would have to be made if she was going to stay on track for school.
“That's not what she's saying,” Gerard spoke up.
“I'm saying it a little bit,” Stella corrected. “Your priorities are great and you're doing an amazing job. Your father and I are so very proud of you...”
“But?” Miranda asked, knowing it was coming.
Stella's eyes flicked to Gerard.
“But,” Gerard sighed. “You've begun placing the things that make you happy at the very bottom of the list. We don't want to see you do that to Carl.”
Miranda dropped her hands into her lap and picked at her nails. They weren't wrong. So many times over the past week she had actually felt guilty for being excited that Carl was still coming over. But her dad was right, Carl was going to make his own decision about that. He would have to be the one to decide if being with her was something he was okay with.
“And it's almost summer. You'll have fewer classes and more free time,” Stella pointed out.
“You guys really like him,” Miranda said with a smirk.
“We do,” Gerard confirmed. “He's smart, works hard, and makes my daughter happy. I was surprised to find out he was Wallace Darrow's kid. They are like night and day.”
“He doesn't care for his father,” Miranda told them something they already knew. Carl wasn't exactly discreet about his feelings for his father.
“He's not the only one,” Gerard grumbled as the back door opened up again.
“Those kids have some actual talent,” Carl said, stepping back inside. Miranda's head shot up and her smile was immediate when she saw his familiar scowl. He zeroed in on her expression and came straight to her. “How's the head?” he asked, placing a kiss to her temple.
She leaned into his side and her eyes caught her mom's gaze. “I feel a lot better.”
“I'm on kitchen duty tonight,” Stella announced. “So I'm pretty sure that means Miranda is available for a dinner date.”
Miranda widened her eyes at her mom, but schooled her expression when Carl pulled back and looked down at her face.
“You wanna get out of here for a bit? I'll buy you tacos or something. Then we can come back all fresh and work on our papers.”
Miranda grinned and nodded. Carl went to grab his jacket and Miranda caught her mom's eye again.
“Thanks, Ma,” she said.
Stella just took a drink of her wine and waved them off.
***
Miranda's hands slipped under the hem of his shirt and up his back. Carl reciprocated. Her skin was so much softer than his. He didn't understand the appeal for her wanting to touch him as desperately as she did. His body was hard. Hers was soft. Like silk.
The rough pads of his fingers skimmed over her sides and around her back, her body pressed closer to him. He moved them, easily, so she was lying on the bench and he was above her. She hummed her approval of their new position and he slowed it down again. His kisses telling her, “No need for desperation. I've got you. I'll always get you.”
This was at the top of the list of his fantasies. He'd wanted to makeout with Miranda in his truck since forever. They hadn't even made it to the tacos yet and she was sliding over close to him, sitting in the middle. A spot a girl had never sat before and maybe that's because they all knew it didn't belong to them.
It belonged to Miranda.
He kept a hand on her leg as he drove, she traced the back of it with her fingers, her body heat sinking in through his clothes and fogging up his thoughts.
He'd pulled over into a grove of trees, just off the road, parked and took his time kissing her. Food could wait.
Everything could wait.
They twisted and tangled, touched and tasted, melting into one another. Carl held her face in both of his hands as he gazed down into her eyes. She smiled shyly, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair spread over the bench seat in his truck, her body safely tucked beneath his.
“I can't believe how beautiful you are sometimes,” he whispered and watched her fall for him just a little bit more.
She touched his forehead and ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back. “I love you.”
Carl cracked a smile, lost in the feeling those words created inside his head and body. He didn't know when his head had been taken over by his heart, but he didn't care. He just wanted to hold her in his arms forever.
He followed the light that was filtering through the trees and landing on her lips, sealing her declaration with a kiss. Then he placed slow, open-mouthed kisses one at a time down her neck, savoring her sighs.
He was the only one who got to see Miranda in all her facets. She was alive with fire, burning with brilliance and conviction. And alone with him, she was a sweet surrender, claiming his soul with every breath she gave him.
He didn't know, until her, who he could be.
Her belief in him, her wild optimism, made him believe too.
Before Miranda he had nothing.
Now... he had everything.