“Carter—” His palm covers my mouth, halting my words. “Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. But Carter, she’s a grown woman.” “Yes,” I mumble behind his palm. “I am. “But Carter, she can make her own decisions.” “I can.” “I’ll treat her right, blah blah blah.” He shakes his head. “The answer is no. You can touch my sister over my dead body.”
