Tessa Ever After
Page 11
Knowing I have little choice, I answer, “Hello.”
“Hey, man, what’s going on?”
“Not much. Just got home.”
“What is it, ten there? Early night for you.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Slim pickings at the bar?”
Though his tone isn’t accusatory or mean, I still bristle at his comment but clench my jaw to keep myself composed. It’s not his fault he still thinks of me as the guy who’d go home with one girl Friday night and a different one Saturday. It’s not his fault he hasn’t been around to see how different Tess is for me.
When I think I can speak without betraying how much his comment got to me, I say, “Actually, I didn’t go out tonight. I was at Tessa’s.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I want to bang my head on the nearest hard surface for telling him that in the first place. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut.
“Tessa’s, huh?” He clears his throat, and though I know he’s aiming for nonchalance, his voice is strained when he asks, “What were you doing there?”
It’s probably not the best idea to tell him that I made his sister come against a wall, so instead I give him a tiny piece of the truth. “I was watching Haley for her. She had a date.”
Those four little words bring back images of that guy with his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the house . . . away from me . . . and it’s like a punch in the gut. While I feel like an ass about what we did, I sure as fuck don’t want to see her out with other guys.
He blows out a breath, and I can practically hear his relief over the phone. “Oh yeah? This the dentist still?”
“Orthodontist.”
“That’s right. You meet him yet?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And . . .” I sigh heavily, taking another drink of my beer. “I don’t know, man. He’s boring as fuck. And he’s too old for her.”
“How old’s too old?”
“I’d guess at least thirty.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, and even though I know I shouldn’t lead Cade to believe Tessa’s still seeing that guy, I can’t pass up this chance to get him off my ass about her. “You’re keeping an eye on her, though, right?”
I huff out a laugh. “Fuck, Cade, make up your damn mind. Last time you called, you told me to stay the fuck away from her. Now you want to make sure I’m watching her. Which is it?”
“I want you to look after her—I just want you to keep your dick in your pants while you do it.”
“Look, man, she’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. And if that’s dating a thirty-year-old dude, or getting mixed up with someone you might not approve of, that’s her choice. And I’m not going to let you monitor her through me. I’ll make sure things are going okay for her, help her when her car breaks down, watch Haley when she’s in a pinch, but if you want to find out what she’s doing in her love life, ask her. Stop running interference through me.”
He doesn’t say anything for a minute. When he finally does, he surprises me. “You’re right. I know I shouldn’t do that, but it’s hard as hell being so far away when she’s going on these dates with these assholes she meets online. Who the fuck knows who they are? They could be creeps or psychos, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not used to not being able to keep an eye on the guys she gets mixed up with.”
“Give your sister a little credit. She’s not an idiot. It’s not like she gets a message online and the very next day meets them in the woods somewhere. You just have to trust her to know what she’s doing.” While it fits for what we’re talking about, I want to have it encompass so much more—I want to have it pertain to us, too . . . to me and Tessa.
“Yeah. I do. I trust her.” Someone says something to Cade—the voice low and feminine—and then Cade laughs. “Winter says I need to leave Tess alone and start talking about something else.”
“I always knew she was smart.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, she is. So what’s new with you? How’re classes going? You gonna finally graduate this year?”
The last time we talked, I was so pissed at him for telling me to stay away from Tess I never filled him in on the ultimatum my parents gave me. “Yeah, looks like.”
“No shit? Finally declared a major, huh? What brought that on?”
“Well, when your parents tell you you’re going to be cut off if you don’t get your shit together, that sort of lights a fire under your ass.”
“They said that?”
“Yep. They hit me with it a couple weeks ago at dinner. I start going for my master’s in January while I’m shadowing my dad at the firm, or I’m booted from the family.”
“Jesus, those were their terms?”
“Well, I added the booted-from-the-family part, but they didn’t have to say that to make it true. You know how they are. Only the best or get the fuck out. Can you imagine how it would look at the club to have a son doing something other than wearing a suit five days a week and golfing every chance he gets?”
He’s quiet, and then he blows out a breath. “I’m sorry, man.”
“For what?”
“I feel like an ass.”
“Well, you are an ass, but I’m used to it by now.”
“I’m serious. You’ve been dealing with all this shit, and I’ve been an asshole best friend, doing nothing but badgering you about Tess.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you should tell them to go fuck themselves.”
“Yeah, you and everyone else.” And I’d love to. I’d love nothing more than to give them the finger and turn around, walk away, and never look back.
But the thing is, I didn’t grow up in the house Tessa and Cade did. I didn’t grow up with a set of parents who loved me unconditionally, who pushed me toward my interests, who supported me in my choices. I grew up with two people who cared more about what my decisions would look like to their friends at the country club than what was best for me, what would make me happy. And even though I’ve spent the last however many years doing everything I could to push the limits—taking as long as I possibly could toward my undergrad degree, racking up a reputation that I knew would reflect poorly on them—I’ve always known just how far I can go, just how much they’ll bend. In the end, after everything they’ve piled on me, all the unreasonable expectations they’ve set, I’m still seeking their approval. Especially now that my grandpa is gone—the one and only person in my family who ever assured me I was worth more than just what I could do for someone.
That I’m still seeking their approval is a pretty fucked-up thing, considering I’ll never get it. I’ll never fit into the image they have in their minds of the perfect son.
I’ve never been that guy, and I never will be.
FOURTEEN
tessa
Paige was so sure last night on the phone, her voice unwavering as she told me exactly what I needed to do. I wish I had her confidence for only five minutes. To be so certain about something must be refreshing. For as long as I can remember, that’s been missing. I feel like I’ve done nothing but second-guess every decision I’ve ever made since that morning in the bathroom five years ago, staring at a stick that linked me to a future I never knew I wanted—at least not at seventeen.
Everything I do now is done with Haley in the back of my mind. How it’ll affect her, if it will . . . if it makes me the kind of person I’d want my daughter to look up to. And as for last night, letting some guy get me off against a wall? No, I can’t say I’m very proud of that person, not as a role model for her.
While it felt good in the moment—it felt amazing in the moment—I can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake. Not the what but the how. We could’ve waited longer. Gone out on a date or two, gotten to know each other as something other than the friends we’ve been for the last fifteen years. Hell, we could’ve walked down the hall to the living room so we weren’t right up against the
wall outside Haley’s bedroom.
I exhale a deep breath and close my eyes, letting it go. There’s nothing I can do about what happened last night, and though a part of me knows it was irresponsible . . . the other part is still tingling with memories of every moment of our time together and wondering when it can happen again.
I glance down at Haley, snuggled against me in my bed, her cheek puffed out against my chest as she smiles at the cartoon on TV. This has been our Saturday morning ritual for as long as I can remember. At first, it was started for purely selfish reasons—so I could sneak in a few more minutes of that ever-elusive sleep when I was an exhausted, new mother working my ass off while going to school. And, admittedly, catching another half hour of sleep still happens sometimes, but it’s grown into something more. She’s always more open in the mornings, and definitely more so when she’s preoccupied with animated characters. It’s my secret mom-weapon for getting her to talk about stuff she otherwise might not. I only hope it continues when she gets older.
A commercial comes on, the TV losing her attention, and she twists around to lie on her stomach, propped up on her elbows as she stares at me.
“What’re we doin’ today, Mama?”
I reach up, brushing her hair away from her face. “I’m not sure. What do you want to do?”
“Get ice cream!”
“Baby, it’s, like, twenty degrees outside and you want ice cream?”
“I always want ice cream.”
I laugh. “Me, too. I think it’s supposed to storm today, though, so maybe we can have a campout in the living room with ice cream instead of going out. I have double fudge brownie in the freezer . . .” I say with a grin.
Her eyes get wide, a smile stretching her face, and I love her so much it hurts. She’s perfect—the best parts of me mixed with an amazing array of traits that are all hers. When I get down on myself, frustrated with everything I’m not doing right, I just need to look at her. Stop and really look, because she reminds me of exactly everything I’m doing right.
“Can we do a slumber party in the living room? And do makeup? I’ll try not to get blipstick all over your face again.”
My smile grows until it nearly splits my face in half. I’m going to miss these days when she eventually says all her words right and doesn’t want to spend undivided time with me.
“Yeah, we can. Maybe we’ll paint our toenails, too.”
“Yes!” she hisses, flopping on her back and wriggling around in her excitement. She freezes and flips back over, her head popping up, her hair a mess on her head, partially covering her face. “Can Jay come, too?”
I freeze from pushing her hair back again, all the nerves that faded into the background leaping to the front once again. “I don’t think he’d like to have his toenails painted very much.”
“We don’t have to do that, but he can watch movies with us and have ice cream and popcorn and maybe read to me in those funny voices and this time he can bring his jammies so there’s no scratchy jeans.”
While I always knew that whatever I did in my social life would affect Haley, this is like a slap in the face and exactly the kind of reminder I need. Haley is already invested in this thing with Jason. Regardless of whether or not anything romantic happens between us, he’s situated himself so far into my little girl’s life that she can’t see it without him. She asks for him when he’s not around, she clings to him when he is, and she loves him every minute in between.
I only hope Paige is right about the outcome from last night. Because if there’s fallout from my actions, if something happens thanks to my choices, I’m not the only one who’s going to be affected.
• • •
IT CAN’T BE more than a half hour later with me dozing in and out of a light sleep when Haley gets restless, notifying me there’s another commercial on. She’s squirming and bouncing on the bed, trying to tickle me while she giggles hysterically, when I think I hear something. Immediately, I’m wide awake.
“Shh, baby, be quiet a minute.”
Her giggles die off, and then just the soft cadence of the commercial meets my ears, the rest of the house silent. When I relax back against the bed, she starts up again, giggling and bouncing, and this time I know I hear something. For a second, I panic, my entire body going taut as I prepare to reach for the baseball bat Cade made sure I had by my bed. And then I hear Jason’s voice booming through the house, and I panic for another reason entirely.
“Hello?”
“Jay!” Haley’s eyes are as wide as her smile when she bounces off the bed and tears out of my room and down the hall.
I glance down, seeing the ratty tank top and flannel pajama pants I slept in last night, knowing without a doubt my hair is a crazy mess on my head. I’m wearing no makeup, and I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet. I throw the covers back and fly out of bed, slipping into the bathroom before Haley can drag Jason down the hallway.
One look in the mirror proves my fears, and I finger comb through my hair to get it in some sort of order, then proceed to scrub the remnants of last night’s mascara from under my eyes. A quick swig of mouthwash, a swipe of my toothbrush, and a couple slaps on my cheeks later, I slip out again and follow the sound of laughter. Instead of my bedroom, where I thought Haley would take him to show him her favorite cartoon, I find them in the kitchen, Haley perched on a stool, her butt bouncing as she kneels, animatedly telling Jason a story.
In the middle of Haley’s explanation of what words start with their letter of the week, Jason glances over her head and our eyes meet. His are deep and dark and bottomless, and they’re focused completely, intently on me.
When I was alone with my thoughts, stuck in an empty bed last night, it was easy to brush all my feelings aside, assure myself I was mistaken. That I didn’t feel this overwhelming want around him. That it wasn’t as all-consuming as I imagined.
But here . . . now . . . when he’s standing ten feet away, his gaze spreading over me like fire? I realize I’m a liar and I’m very good at pretending.
Except he doesn’t look like he has any interest at all in pretending.
jason
Before I could second-guess myself, I got up and showered this morning, stopped off to grab some donuts because Haley loves them, and headed over to Tessa’s. I needed to see her, despite any lingering apprehension I had. And that need made me feel like a pussy, but I didn’t even care.
With my parents taking every ounce of independence I have left, taking any choice I had in my future away, taking away the hope I had of doing the one thing I always enjoyed, I want this. Selfishly and foolishly, but neither are going to stop me.
I knock a couple times with no answer, so I use my key to let myself in, figuring Tess is preoccupied or just can’t hear me. After calling out a hello, I hear Haley’s voice echoing down the hallway, and then her tiny feet are pounding the floors. She crashes into the back of my legs as I’m walking into the kitchen to drop off the donuts.
“Hey, shorty. What’s shakin’?”
“Nothin’. Did ya bring me a donut?”
I lean down and slowly open the box for her to peek in. Whispering, I say, “I brought you two.”
Her eyes crinkle as her mouth splits in her wide smile. She climbs up on the stool to sit and digs into her chocolate-covered with rainbow sprinkles, all the while telling me about her week at preschool and day care, even though she already told me some version of it last night. Haley doesn’t even pay attention when her mom comes into the room behind her, but I can’t help but glance up. Tessa’s hair is messy and sexy as hell, her face flushed, and before I can stop myself, I glance down, taking a quick sweep of the rest of her. And for one minute, I almost wish I hadn’t, because she is abso-fucking-lutely not wearing a bra, and the sight of her nipples pressing against the not-nearly-thin-enough material of her tank top makes me want to groan. And then press her up against a wall and have a repeat of last night, this time without the blue balls that accompanied it.
“Well, do ya?”
Shaking my head to clear it, I glance down at Haley’s face, her mouth covered in smears of chocolate. “Um, yeah, sure.” I don’t even know what I’m saying yes to, but it’s pretty obvious I don’t say no to much where this one is concerned.
“Yesss! Last one has to be middle!”
Without another glance, she climbs down from the stool and runs out of the kitchen.
“Do not climb into my bed before you wash your face and hands, Haley Grace!” Tessa yells down the hall toward the retreating form of her daughter before she turns back to me. Once her gaze meets mine, she lifts her eyebrows in question. Her look of surprise makes me panic for a minute about what I actually accepted from Haley.
“What’d I just agree to?”
Her shock gives way to suspicion and then amusement as a small smile sweeps across her face. She crosses her arms, and no, I’m absolutely not going to look down at what that does for her tits. “You didn’t hear a word of what she said.”
“Say what now?”
She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “Yes, exactly. You could’ve agreed to allow her to try out her new makeup on you or curl your hair.”
“Oh Jesus, please tell me it’s neither of those things.”
“Well, she was talking about painting toenails earlier, but I said you probably wouldn’t be up for that. You just agreed to do our Saturday-morning ritual with us.”
I put the lid back on the donuts and walk to stand in front of her. I want to reach out and touch her, to lean down and kiss her breathless, but I’m not sure where we stand—if last night was a fluke or the start of something. The worst part is, I don’t know which is scarier. I pop the rest of my donut in my mouth, not wanting to think about that at this moment. “And what’s that? You guys drinking pig’s blood later?”
“Worse. Watching Disney Junior while confined in a bedroom.”