To be fair to Caden, there is a mountain lift, and although it felt like I would plummet to my death for every second that I was in it, I’m here. I’m safe.
I take a short breath and scan the scenery. There’s so much to take in that I think if I were up here for a hundred years, I still wouldn’t really see everything.
“There’s somewhere to sit up there a little, it’s only a few minutes’ walk. You game?” Caden asks.
I rub the chill off my arms and zip my jacket up to the top.
“Here,” Caden says and pulls his backpack off his shoulder. He opens it and pulls out a hat, which he drags over my head. I push it up from my eyes.
“You thought of everything.”
“Didn’t want my girl getting cold,” he tells me with a wink. Unfortunately, it only reminds me of when Tarrant took his Henley off to cover me after Selina ripped my top.
“I saw Tarrant with Selina yesterday,” I tell Caden, and he stiffens. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” he lies.
“You’re lying.” I pull him up on his crap.
He huffs out a breath and sits on his haunches. Looking up at me, he holds his hand over his eyes to block the sun out. “Can you just believe me when I say I can’t tell you?”
I contemplate his question for a moment, biting my lip. I guide my hand through my hair, tugging out a few knots. “Yes, of course I can,” I answer him.
I want to dig more, but that wouldn’t be fair. There seems to be more secrets and lies than truth these days, and I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not anymore.
“Come on.” Caden grabs my hand, and we hustle to this beautiful flat area of the mountain—it’s like an open-top cave, private to a degree but with the most magnificent view. “Sit,” he demands, and he reminds me once again of his brother. I swallow down the shards of pain that try to prick at my throat.
Caden throws out a padded blanket and I sit my butt down. “What else you got in that magic bag?” I ask while trying to peek a look.
“These,” he says passing over two Tupperware boxes. I pop the lid on one and find sandwiches, and then open the other one filled with healthy stuff. There’s carrots, celery, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and broccoli. I eye the broccoli as he passes me some ranch dressing.
“Healthy.” I scrunch my nose with a small amount of disgust as I say the word.
Caden chuckles then wordlessly passes me a packet of Oreo’s.
“I love you,” I shout grabbing the packet from his hands and tearing it open.
“Not even gonna attempt a sandwich first, huh?” he asks sitting next to me and shaking his head with a small smile.
I give him a side eye and stop moving—the Oreo that was traveling toward my mouth I hold midway.
Caden holds up his hands. “What? I was joking.”
I purse my lips, trying not to giggle.
“Shit,” he says running his palm down his face. “Is it shark week?” His lips twitch.
“Stop fucking talking to Morgan,” I snap. But neither of us can stop the laughter as it pierces the quiet air.
I shovel the Oreo into my mouth as soon as we stop laughing.
“I’m telling my family that I’m gay over Christmas break,” Caden announces, and I start coughing as I choke on my Oreo.
“Shit! Here,” he says opening a bottle of water and passing it to me.
I take a couple of gulps, then a few more sips. “Thanks,” I rasp.
“Let’s hope I don’t kill them.” Caden smiles sadly.
“Well, try not to tell them at the damn dinner table… that would be a good start,” I reply.
He chuckles, then we’re both silent for a moment. “You sure you’re ready?” I ask softly.
“Absolutely not, but I can’t hide forever.” He shrugs, and I don’t answer because I can’t.
What can I say? What do I know? Nothing.
I have no idea what it’s like for him, and I can’t pretend to know. I can only be here for him, support him when he needs it. That’s all I can offer, and hopefully, it will be enough.
“I know Tarrant will have my back.”
“You told him?” I ask taken aback.
“Not yet, but I know he’ll support me. I also know he’ll hate the lies that I’ve told.”
I keep my eyes fixed on the view below me. I’m excited, a little apprehensive, and a lot scared. This is Caden’s secret to tell, but also, in a way, it’s kind of not. I can’t expect Tarrant to suddenly feel differently toward me, and I know I need to try and put myself in his place.
If I were lied to, in this way… would I be angry? Hurt? Disappointed?
The truth is… yes.
I would be all of the above.
Tarrant told me about the divide he felt with his brother, one that Caden placed there. I know it was because he was struggling with his sexuality, but Tarrant doesn’t know that. It will hurt him even more when he realizes his brother told me and not him, and more, that Tarrant talked to me and I didn’t open up, not even a little. I know there is loads more that I have been a part of, and if I were Tarrant, I’d feel like I was being laughed at and kept out of the loop knowing the people I most cared about knew all along, and that would sting.
My only hope is that he can get past it. I want him in my life, even if it is as a friend. Granted, I’ll need to get used to seeing him with other girls, but that’s my problem, and it will continue to be if Tarrant doesn’t forgive the lies. At the end of the day, he’ll have to forgive his brother, but he never has to speak to me again if he so chooses. And that right there scares the shit out of me.
“Do you know when you’re going to tell them?” I ask.
“No. But I need to do it now, I’m sick of pretending. They either love me for me or they don’t. I can’t change them… but they can’t change me either.” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“Well, I’m here, day or night. When you tell them and you’re ready to talk about it call me, no matter what.” I grab his arm and shake it until he’s looking into my eyes. “Call me,” I repeat, and he nods, the corner of his mouth curls up. “I’m here all holiday. I’ll be waiting for your call,” I whisper.
“I hate that you’re here by yourself.”
“Yeah, well, I love it, and you have more important things to worry about.”
He frowns at me, but I lean forward and hug him before he has a chance to say anything else.
As I lay in bed three days later and think about my day up the mountain with Caden, I smile. It’s slightly sad but also happy. I’m worried about what’s going to happen, and I’m edgy waiting for his call or text. Everyone has gone home for Christmas now. The dorm is empty, and I wonder if the bravado that I show my friends, the happiness I portray about being here by myself, is really just to convince me.
My phone makes a text sound, and I almost launch myself off the bed and across the room to where it’s charging. I grab it and snuggle back under the covers. Pulling my pillow up behind me I lean against the wall. I frown when I see the text isn’t from Caden… but from Tarrant.
Tarrant: Caden tells me you’re by yourself.
My mouth opens and closes a few times, and I’m not sure what to do. This guy confuses and confounds me. I quickly tap out a reply before I change my mind.
Me: Yeah. It’s quiet here.
I press send and place the phone next to my leg, assuming there won’t be another one, but almost immediately the sound of another message alerts me. My heart pounds a little harder and faster, and I try to ignore the pulse in my neck.
Tarrant: Are you safe? Can’t be good by yourself.
I roll my eyes but smile at the same time.
Me: I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine.
This time before I put the phone down, I can see that he’s tapping out a reply. My hand gets sweaty, and I catch my reflection in the mirror across the room. I shake my head and at the same time shake the stupid grin off my face.
Tarran
t: I don’t like you being alone, Lemon.
Me: Not sure you have a choice, Tarrant.
Tarrant: Maybe not, but Caden shouldn’t have left you by yourself.
I realize that he hasn’t told them yet, and my stomach dips and not in a good way.
Me: He doesn’t have a choice either.
I reply, switch it to vibrate and throw my phone down on the bed laying back down.
I feel it buzz against my leg but force myself to ignore it. It buzzes again and again until I can’t ignore it anymore.
Tarrant: Well, I came back to Mom’s house, so I’m in town.
Tarrant: I’m outside, and you’re coming out with me.
Tarrant: Lemon. Come downstairs and get in my damn car. Now.
Tarrant: Fuck it. I’m coming up.
The last one is an order, and as I rush to get out of bed my feet get tangled, and I fall landing on the floor on my face. I manage to rip the sheets from my feet and drag myself to the window. Tarrant is climbing out of his shiny black car, he glances up. Luckily the room is dark, so I know he can’t see me, but under the streetlight I can just about make out the gray beanie on his head, his hair poking out slightly from underneath the sides.
With that, he steps out of the light, and I know he’s heading for my building. I guess if I won’t come to him, he’s going to come to me.
I stare down at my Batman sleep shorts and tank and sigh, then walk over to the door and open it. I stand at the opening and wait for the man who turns me into a fucking fool, and although I do it with a frown, inside me a damn party is happening.
I watch him stride down the hall toward me. I’m barely managing to hold onto the little bit of self-restraint I have where Tarrant’s involved, I only just stop myself from moaning out loud when I look at him. He’s wearing dark gray joggers and a matching hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing off his tattooed arms. He’s like a walking wet dream. Tarrent’s pulled off his beanie, and I can see his hair is shorter. It actually looks like he’s only had a tiny bit cut, and yet it still appears a little longer than would be considered smart. Even so, where other people wouldn’t notice, Miss Stalky McPsycho here can tell immediately.
“Lemon,” he drawls with a lip twitch. “I always thought Batman was the shit,” he tells me as his eyes burn a path over my skin.
“Gotta keep Gotham safe. Although, I always did have a thing for Heath Ledger even as the Joker,” I say with a shrug.
Tarrant places his hand on my hip and guides me back into my room. “Are you trying to tell me I have a Harlequin on my hands, Lemon?” he whispers in my ear, and I shiver. I can’t hide it and I don’t even try. What’s the point? My body would betray me anyway, so there’s little benefit.
I pull away and go sit on my bed. The thought that Tarrant might sit next to me which could be dangerous crosses my mind. Instantly, I stand like a mad person with wide eyes and stare at him. Tarrant raises an eyebrow back at me, and I shuffle to my desk chair. I sit my butt down quick and pull one leg up, wrapping my arms around my shin, like my leg will form a barrier and protect me from the ache my heart feels whenever he’s near. He chuckles at me and shakes his head before leaning against the now-closed door.
Are there drums in here? I think and look around. Nope, just my heart. I must look like a crazy person.
“Definitely Harlequin,” Tarrant mutters and chuckles again.
“Why are you here?” I ask, genuinely wondering.
“Nobody should be alone at Christmas, Lemon.” His eyes don’t waiver from mine, and I see the conviction in his statement.
“I’m fine,” I reply.
“Fine is not fucking good enough,” he snaps. “Not for you,” he whispers the last part, and I’m not entirely sure his words were meant for my ears.
“What exactly is it you want me to say?”
“Nothing.”
I frown and reply. “Nothing?”
Tarrant doesn’t reply. He just shrugs at my question.
“Tarrant. Nothing?” I whip out the words, confusion buzzing around my head.
“You have a choice,” he says ignoring me again. “You come with me, or I stay here for Christmas.”
“What?” I screech as my heel slips off the chair, and I fall forward.
Tarrant is there in a flash. He grabs my elbow before I collide with the floor and hauls me up under my arms until I’m facing him—the gap between us isn’t even wide enough for an Oreo.
“What?” I ask again with a murmur.
“You come with me and stay with my family, or I stay here. It’s not complicated, Lemon. It’s also non-negotiable. You are not on your own for Christmas. End of discussion,” he informs me.
I blink and simultaneously open and close my mouth. My brain is having trouble engaging because all I can see is the light green, almost blue ring that runs around the edges of his eyes. I can feel myself slipping into a Tarrant daze.
“It’s okay, just make a choice,” he murmurs, his hot breath grazing my skin.
His words reverberate around my head. They mean something to me, maybe they mean the same thing to him… is this him asking me to choose him? I shake my head. I am turning into a crazy person.
“I’ll come with you,” I wheeze out.
Tarrant grins and runs his finger along my hairline and behind my ear. “Glad you’re playing it safe. Pack some clothes, Lemon.”
We’ve been driving for ages. I glance over at Tarrant then back out my window. Slowly, I allow my eyes to wander toward his profile again before moving back to the scenery which is whizzing by scarily fast. I stare down at my hands as my fingers fiddle in my lap. Almost subconsciously, my gaze takes in Tarrant again. I only realize that’s what I’m doing when Tarrant says, “Keep it up, Lemon, and I’ll pull this car over. Then you can work out whatever’s in your system.” He looks at me with hooded eyes and a predatory smile. The beanie is back on, and his wispy hair frames his face. I squeeze my legs together and bite down hard on my lips before I accidentally do something stupid, for example, mewl like a damn kitten. I hear his quiet chuckle and try not to smile.
“Can we… can we stop somewhere?” I manage to croak out through my dry throat.
“You okay?” Tarrant asks looking over at me with concern.
“Yeah, I could do with a drink, my throat’s a little dry,” I lie.
I need to take a minute.
Whenever Tarrant’s near me, all logical thought evaporates.
The next thirty minutes drag out, and there’s a knotted tension in the air. I feel like I might choke from all the things left unsaid between us. Finally, when I’m right on the edge and almost out of my own skin, Tarrant pulls into an Olive Garden and parks up. I practically jump from the car before it stops as the need for escape takes over, but once I’m standing outside the entrance and watching Tarrant stroll toward me, I’m thrown back into a daze again. Suddenly, I find myself shivering internally and grasping at my own common sense as it swirls down the drain of my damn arousal, which seems to negate my need for logic and reason at this point.
“After you,” Tarrant orders with a wisp of a smile playing on his face. I blink and blink again, then as directed, I turn around and walk through the entrance. The second I’m through the door, he places his palm against my lower back, and it’s hot like having one of those heated pads—the ones people use for bad backs—against my lower spine. I look back at him, but he’s staring past me.
“Hey,” I hear a feminine voice, the tone saying more than the single word.
I spin back to face a girl much the same age as us. Her deep reddish hair looks natural and long, although it’s tied up in a bun. Her black uniform shows that she’s fairly petite, but it’s the soft look on her face—totally girlie with pretty brown eyes and a dimple in one cheek as she smiles, and I know it’s all for Tarrant. I want to feel affronted, but I can’t. Firstly, he’s not mine to be jealous over, and secondly, I can’t blame her. I often have that doe-eyed, stupid-
girl look when I see him myself.
“A booth, over there,” Tarrant tells her sharply. Once again, I find myself looking back at him. This time I’m puzzled, and I know my face doesn’t hide that emotion as I wonder why he’s being so curt.
“Of course,” she answers more professionally now, and when I look back there’s a slight blush traveling across her cheeks.
I follow her lead and Tarrant doesn’t remove his scalding palm from my back. By the time I slide into my side of the booth I feel like I’ve been branded.
“Erm… what are you doing?” I snap as Tarrant slides in on my side.
He moves along until his leg is resting against mine. “Sitting, Lemon,” he tells me with a chuckle.
“I’m Emily, I’ll be your server today. Can I get you a drink?” the waitress asks, her blush hasn’t disappeared and actually looks like it’s journeying down her neck now.
I look at the menu trying to take note of the prices and how much I currently have to my name. It’s not the cheapest place to eat, but I haven’t had a lot of expenditures lately, and with the overtime I begged Mrs. Edwards for, I can live with spending ten bucks maybe fifteen… at a push.
“Raspberry lemonade, please,” I tell her. She nods and offers me a stiff smile, then her eyes move to Tarrant and lust ignites in them again.
“A Bud,” he tells her and pulls out his fake ID, all without once looking at her face, which I think is rude.
“Of course.” She nods then walks off.
“You’re so rude,” I tell him. “And what’s with the squishing into this side?” I add.
Tarrant nudges my shoulder and I giggle. I like this playful side to him. It’s one he rarely displays, and I have to admit it makes me feel special when he shares usually unseen parts of his personality with me.
“If I smile at her, give her any attention, she’ll think there’s more to it than me being polite. I’ve been there, Lemon, trust me.” He looks at me, his head tilted and his eyes dancing with mischief or maybe it’s passion, who knows.
Dazed (The Deliverance Series Book 1) Page 17