With one last tug from Celia, I tore my eyes from them and moved, leaving them behind. My sister straddled the ATV, and I slid on behind her, hugging her middle and pressing the side of my face to her back.
“I didn’t know you liked him like that,” she said.
I pressed my face tighter against her back and reminded myself that I didn’t like him like that. I couldn’t. The silent ride gave me a moment to try to sort out my feelings. Rowan was a friend. Sure, we’d hooked up, but it hadn’t meant anything. I repeated the words to myself, hoping they’d keep my heart from ripping apart.
We were halfway to our front door when we heard the familiar zoom of a dirt bike. We turned around at the same time and spotted Rowan expertly getting down, kicking the stand in place and taking off his helmet at the same time. He threaded his fingers into his hair in effort to fix it, but all it did was add to his disheveled sex appeal.
“We need to talk,” he said as he stomped forward. I looked over my shoulder at Celia, whose eyes were wide as she turned around and unlocked the door.
“Fill me in later,” she said quietly as she stepped inside.
I felt myself panicking, my heart throbbing a bit faster, my brain mushing over small details, like the fact that I’d just seen him standing way too close to Camryn and here he was not even two minutes later asking to speak to me. I wanted to shout it to the world. Instead, I crossed my arms as I stood on my porch, my heart thrashing with each step he took toward me.
“What are you doing here?”
“What you saw . . . what—” He exhaled when he reached me. I blinked up to his face. What I saw . . . him kissing Camryn. I swallowed my pride and hoped I would be able to summon a few words.
“We were never serious. We were never . . . anything. It’s fine.” I kept my voice as neutral as I could over the whooshing of blood in my ears.
“No.” He stepped forward, looming over me, his chest almost crashing against mine. I arched my neck to meet his gaze as he cupped the side of my face. “It isn’t fine. I don’t want you to think that after we . . .” He shook his head, looked up at the sky as if searching for answers.
“I’ve seen you with plenty of girls. You’ve never apologized before.”
“We hadn’t spent nearly every waking moment together before.” He shot me a look. “Don’t pretend that meant nothing.”
“I’m not pretending anything. I wasn’t the one doing whatever it was you were doing with Camryn. Besides, we’re just friends, aren’t we? I wasn’t expecting anything between us to change.”
“What if I want change?”
“With me or with Camryn?”
“I didn’t do anything with her,” he said. “I swear. I didn’t. Nothing happened. She was talking to me about something private, pulled me aside. We kept talking. I told her I was with someone and wasn’t interested.”
I searched his eyes, hoping for truth. I’d never known him to be a liar or a cheater, for that matter, but my heart was still unsettled, ricocheting all over the place.
“I want to believe you.”
“I would never lie to you.”
“I know how you are with Camryn, and I’m going to play second string to her.”
“You would never be second to anyone, Tess.”
“She was standing really close to you.” I swallowed, trying to keep myself together, but I felt the tears clogging my throat. I’d never felt so vulnerable because of a guy.
“She’s just . . . pushy and I’m an idiot. I should never have let her lead me away from the party.”
“You don’t even know how to have a relationship,” I whispered. “You get a new girlfriend every day.”
“I know, and I understand why you’d be hesitant, but I’ve never felt this connection with anyone.” He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. When he opened them again, he seemed to have made up his mind about something. “I want to change for you. Only for you. And I know it’s only a matter of time before I leave for college, but you’re going to graduate early. Maybe you can come to Columbia. Maybe we can take this change with us?”
“Yale,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to go to Yale.”
“Maybe Yale, maybe Columbia.” His lips tugged. “Does that mean you want to try?”
I didn’t know the answer to that. What would change bring? I didn’t want to be the girl who followed her sort-of boyfriend to college or the girl who gave up her own dreams to follow a guy’s. I didn’t want to be the girl who fell for Rowan, and God knew he was easy to fall for with his warm blue eyes, killer body, and untamed hair.
For me, it was everything underneath that he would make me fall for, and I’d fall hard. His charm and his wit and the way his mouth moved into a secretive smile when he had a comeback he didn’t think you’d handle well would grab ahold of me and never let go. He didn’t allow me to respond. He took whatever expression was on my face as permission to bring his lips to mine. I saw my future flash before me in anticipation of his lips—the white picket fence and the kids, the dogs and the holidays around the tree. I’d never considered marriage, let alone children. The thought rocked me to my core, threatened to freak me out, but then his fingers thrust into my hair, and his tongue invaded my mouth in a sensual sweep that made my knees buckle.
I fell into the kiss, grabbing on to the front of his jacket and tugging him fully against me. This was what people spent their lives searching for. This scary, upside down feeling that made them feel as if they were on the brink, between their first and last breath. I’d always held on to the notion that I’d rather be alone than sparkless, but since I’d tasted the sparks, I had been afraid they’d be strong enough to make me implode.
Chapter Ten
Tessa
Present
“Did you know Dad sold the company in order to put me through school?” I asked Grandma Joan as soon as I walked through her door.
“Oh, dear.” She glanced at me over her reading glasses. “Who told you?”
“Doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you?” I took a seat across from her, watching as she poured tea into the second cup and slid it over to me.
“Because you would have dropped out.”
“I would’ve found another way to pay for school. I could’ve transferred. It isn’t like I needed to graduate from that specific school.”
“You dreamed of going there your entire life.”
“Because we had money and I thought it was possible, not because . . .” I shook my head and stopped talking as tears swam in my eyes. I blinked in an effort to hold them back, but then Grandma Joan slid her hand over mine, and it was no use. “I feel responsible.”
“You aren’t.”
“I’m the reason Mom and Dad became so unhappy they decided they couldn’t live together,” I said. “You have to see that. The reason Mom filed for divorce and is dating a man young enough to be my brother. The reason one of the most hardworking, respectable families there was is suddenly no more.”
“This was exactly why we didn’t tell you. It’s exactly why you need to take that opportunity in Paris.”
“I never said I wasn’t going to take Paris,” I said with a little too much defiance in my voice. I swallowed and toned it down a bit. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I feel lied to.”
“You were lied to for a good reason.”
“Does Celia know?” I closed my eyes. God. If my siblings knew I would really feel like an asshole. I understood on some level that it wasn’t my call, but it made me feel responsible. Our parents couldn’t handle the debt or the sale of the company and it broke them. Our entire family split apart because of this. Because of me and my stupid little girl dream to go to Yale when, really, I could have gotten my degree anywhere. I got degrees in fashion design and marketing, neither of which was going to change the world, but they did change my life and not for the better thus far. I said this aloud. Grandma Joan tisked.
“You’re not looking at the bigger picture,” she said. “None o
f this is your fault. Did debt put a strain in your parents’ marriage?” She shrugged. “Probably. That doesn’t mean it’s the reason the marriage fell apart.”
It was true. A part of me knew and believed it. The other part, the childish one that wanted to hold on to the idea that her parents would be married until one of them died, wanted to continue to argue.
“How long is the apprenticeship in New York versus Paris?” she asked, veering off the subject.
“They’re both one year.”
“Both paid.”
I nodded. Took a sip of coffee. “Both paid.”
“I saw Rowan the other day.”
I blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Yeah, he’s been around.”
“Have you seen him?”
“A few times.”
“And? Any sparks?”
I smiled and glanced away, but didn’t answer.
“Mm-hmm.”
“He thinks I’m dating Sam,” I blurted out.
“You little devil.” Her face was priceless before she started to laugh but then sobered. “What ever happened to that blonde girl you didn’t get along with? Camryn.”
“Who knows.” It was a lie. I lurked on Camryn’s Insta here and there. You know what they say about enemies and all that jazz. “She travels a lot.”
“Hm. I never liked that girl.”
“She has that effect on people.”
“What does that boy see in her?” Grandma Joan shook her head in distaste. I’d cried to her once when Rowan was already away in college because I’d heard Camryn had finally made her move and made it count. I wasn’t sure if the rumors were one hundred percent true, but it didn’t matter. The fact that they were swirling was enough to hurt. “He’s the whole package. She’s . . .”
“Hot, blonde, smart, and slutty.” I shrugged. She was. Nothing wrong with any of those qualities.
Sooner or later, she’d settle down, and she’d been wanting to do it with Rowan for so long I was sure it would happen. He and I had a fling. A short, temporary fling. That was all. I needed to keep categorizing it as such to keep my head right. We’d never work. Besides, he’d have a new love in his life soon: Hawthorne Industries. Making money was his first love. Any woman he settled down with would always be his mistress. Women like Camryn were okay with that because it was what they saw growing up. She’d doll up and accompany him to galas and be perfectly content spending her day at the spa and the mall on his dime. Nothing wrong with that either. I said this to Grandma Joan and shot her a look, daring her to trash talk. She’d been Camryn in her day. She knew better than to say anything distasteful, but in true Joan form, she spoke up anyway.
“That life gets old quickly. Soon she’ll be luring the help or his colleagues to bed while he spends his nights at the office.” She shot me a look of her own. “Trust me, I know.”
What a life she’d lived, my grandma. She’d been every woman’s nightmare back in her day and offered no apologies for it. Grandma had inherited a nice chunk of money from her first husband and a winery from my grandpa. I wasn’t sure how one got tired of inheriting successful companies, but I wasn’t about to find out. I was content living the lavish life vicariously through Celia. My phone vibrated, and to my surprise, I realized someone was actually calling me. I glanced at the screen and saw a picture of Rowan that I’d taken six years ago. He looked so . . . different. I hesitated, my hand on the phone.
“Answer his call, dear. Men like that don’t wait.”
I hit the red button and sent the call to voice mail. I knew my worth. It wasn’t my fault that he hadn’t seen it.
Chapter Eleven
I’d always heard that your formative years are everything before the age of eight. I was sure that held at least some truth, but I was twenty-one when my parents suddenly split up, and it rocked all of us to the core. Maybe they weren’t lovey dovey all the time, but they never seemed unhappy and divorce was supposed to be for unhappy couples that reached the end of the road and didn’t see a reason to turn around together. Celia, Freddie, and I had sat side by side as they broke the news, Dad’s breath full of liquor as his feelings poured out of him. He loved us more than anything but was no longer in love with Mom. Mom cried, dabbed her eyes with one of Dad’s old-fashioned handkerchiefs, and said the same.
“This has nothing to do with the company,” Mom added.
We all had known it was bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit.
In the years following their split, I had buried myself in schoolwork and graduated at the top of my class. It had been my way of not dealing. Not that it had helped, because here I was again, feeling lost and afraid in a way I hadn’t felt often in my life. I’d had everything mapped out for me since I was a girl. We all had. And then boom, it all shattered, just like that. I looked around my room and sighed. There was no noise outside, no loud arguments or doors slamming, no laughter or music. It was just me in this big-ass house. As a teenager, I would have reveled in that.
I buried my face in my pillow and tried not to think about it. When I was sure I wasn’t going to cry, I pushed myself up, grabbed my phone, and headed downstairs. I called my sister in London and fell into a fit of tears the moment she answered. I poured it all out there and apologized.
“What are you apologizing for?”
“Have you not been paying attention?” I snapped. “The reason mom and dad split up was because they couldn’t handle paying for Yale and everything else.”
Celia was quiet for a beat before she laughed. “I hope you’re joking.”
“I’m not. Grandma said it too. Well, sort of said it. It doesn’t matter. I feel responsible.”
“Well, don’t. The moment you left for college mom and dad were at each other’s throats. Trust me. I know. Why do you think I moved into that shithole apartment in the Bronx? They were miserable and it had nothing to do with you, so wipe your tears and move on. It isn’t your fault, and Freddie and I don’t blame you for it, either, so don’t go thinking that.”
I let that sink in and took a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Is that what you were calling me for?”
“Well, that and I’m pretty sure the house is ready to list. I know we all talked about it briefly, but I think it’s time. I’m leaving soon so unless Dad comes back again or Mom comes in or one of you—“
“Hell no,” she interrupted. “Let’s conference call and get this over with.”
She added Freddie, who was in Boston, and he called Mom, who was in France. Last, we added Dad, who was in Port Townsend.
“What time is it?” Dad grumbled. “Did anyone die?”
“No, but you will if you don’t listen to what they have to say,” Mom snapped.
“Who’s going to kill me? Your pre-school-aged boyfriend?”
I cringed at my father’s words. Freddie and Celia exploded with laughter.
“You guys might as well still be married,” Freddie said, his deep voice taking over the call.
“I’m calling because I’m done with my portion of the house stuff. Everything except my room furniture and the barstools in the kitchen are in storage,” I said. “So, should I call the realtor tomorrow?”
Everyone stayed quiet for a beat.
“You shouldn’t do this on your own,” Mom said, but her voice was soft, wary.
“Are you going to come home and help?”
“Not right now,” she said.
“I say go for it,” Dad said. “We can use the money and start something with it.”
“You’re always thinking about money,” Mom pointed out.
“He has a point, Mom. You’re comfortable because Grandma Joan saved the day, but Dad sold everything and used the money for necessities,” Celia said. I wondered if she’d still sound so supportive if she knew where a chunk of the money had actually gone. Guilt nestled into my chest, splayed out there and chilled.
“Fine, call a realtor,” Mom agreed. ”Give him my information for any paperwork I’ll
have to sign. Make sure they have your Grandma’s information as well, just in case you leave before anything happens.”
“Of course, she’ll leave before anything happens. Houses don’t sell in a week,” Dad said.
“You’d be surprised,” Mom argued.
“Okay. Good talk,” Freddie said. “I need to get back to work.”
“Where are you right now anyway?” I asked. I’d called him a few times, and he always dodged the question, but if any of the people on the line knew where he was, they’d spill the beans for sure. I waited and pressed the phone closer to my ear. No one said anything. It was as if we were all waiting for the same thing.
“Working,” he said simply. “Love you all. See you in Thanksgiving.”
“At,” I said.
“Whatever. At. It doesn’t matter. Too many Native Americans died for us to just sit around the table, ignoring that fact while we dig into dry-ass turkey. I hate that holiday.”
“Me, too,” I agreed.
“Me, three,” Celia said.
“Me, four,” Dad added.
“So why do we even celebrate it?” Mom sounded as if she was about to cry. “Is this your way of telling me I won’t be seeing any of my children this year?”
I exhaled. “I’ll be there. Not sure where there is, but wherever you guys decide to meet, I’ll go.”
“Same.”
“Same.”
“Same.”
I smiled. “I’ll give you details on what the realtor says.” I’d call my mom privately and ask her if she still wanted a small cottage near Grandma Joan’s. She’d mentioned it in passing, but I wasn’t sure if it was one of those things she just said or if she meant it.
“Thanks, baby,” Dad said.
“Thanks, Sissy,” Celia added.
“Gotta go,” Freddie said and disconnected.
I hung up the phone and readied quickly, dressing as if I was going to a business meeting, even though I had no set destination just yet. Surely there must be at least a dozen realtors nearby. I always saw the open house signs scattered around. My heels clicked on the marble floor as I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. I started a pot of coffee, set a pan with some oil on the stove to fry some eggs, and had just popped two slices of bread into the toaster when the doorbell rang. I nearly dropped my jam.
Then There Was You Page 6