“Are you asking me if you can spend the night?” she says seriously, but the corner of her mouth lifts into a sexy smirk.
“Yeah, I am.”
“I’ll have to ask my mom but if she says it’s okay, I guess I wouldn’t mind.”
Clearly that’s a yes since we both know Trish has no problem letting guys spend the night, so I tell her, “Thanks. I’ll figure something else out as soon as I can.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. One of the guys will take me in until Coach’s mother-in-law is gone. Worst case scenario, if I have to, I don’t mind sucking it up and going back home.”
“No,” she says adamantly. “You’re not going back there. You can stay with me as long as you need to.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t want you getting sick of me and I don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me.”
“What does that mean? If you’re staying at my house that means I’m with you?” I can’t tell if she’s being a smart ass or not. I guess that statement was presumptions.
“No. Of course not. But, Tatum, things have changed and it’s hard for me to be around you and not want to put my hands and mouth on you. I don’t know if I can control myself and I don’t want to pressure you into anything. You’re finally free. I don’t want to make you feel attached again.”
“That’s stupid, Brandon. I am attached to you. You staying somewhere other than my house isn’t gonna make me feel less attached to you. And trust me, I don’t mind being held and kissed by you. Just relax. And don’t even think about going back to your house. I won’t let you.”
“I’m attached to you too, just for the record. And I appreciate you trying to protect me from Roger, but I’m sure he’s cooled down by now. I can’t stay away forever.”
She’s staring at me with a hint of trepidation in her eyes. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you this and I kind of don’t want to, but I said some things to Roger when your family came into the restaurant on Sunday that I probably shouldn’t have.”
My body goes tense, not with fear of my dad, but at the thought of her having to be around him. “I’m sure he deserved whatever you said to him. He was always a condescending asshole to you. I shouldn’t have let him treat you that way.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I deal with much worse than him. I’m immune to asshole customers.”
“Did you finally tell him off?”
“Not really. I just told him politely that he did a good job kicking your ass. Then he told me it wasn’t a good idea to mess with someone in his position and I told him that he lost his position when he became a child abuser and then he told me I made a mistake before walking out. And… your mom told me to take care of you. I’m sorry. I should have kept my big mouth closed,” she blurts out, her eyes looking away from mine when she’s done talking.
I reach over and wrap my fingers around her neck, drawing her eyes back to mine. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I’m not worried about that. I mean what the hell can he do? It’s not like I have anything to lose. I just shouldn’t have made him angry. Not while he was with your family.”
“I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you don’t let people get away with shit. Don’t feel bad about it. I talked to my mom last night. Everything is fine. I think this whole situation has brought her closer to my brothers and Meghan. It’s helped her realize what’s important in life. We’re gonna be okay.”
“Alright,” she agrees, wrapping her fingers around my neck and giving me a, too short, kiss before climbing onto her bed and pulling out a pen and notepad.
I force myself not to follow her into that bed and ask her, “You want to use my laptop?”
“You have your laptop with you?”
“Well, yeah. I have pretty much everything I own with me,” I tell her, pulling it out of my backpack and tossing it on her bed.
She smiles at me before powering it up and throwing her memory key in.
“Would it be easier for you to focus if I went out in the living room?”
“Probably,” she tells me, not looking up from the computer, “but I’d rather have you here with me.”
I try not to smile at that as I flop down on the papasan chair she’s had in her room since we were kids. I manage to focus on my playbook for a few minutes, but I’m distracted by the way her fingers are flying across the keyboard and the intensity on her face. It reminds me of the way she used to look when she was reading or writing one of her stories when we were kids. She used to make up the best stories. I always wanted to be able to do it too but I didn’t have her imagination so I ended up paying her to write me comic books. I had eight of them and I read them until the paper was tattered and the ink started to fade. Even after we stopped talking I would pull them out every once in a while and get lost in the past and forget that she was no longer part of my life.
Then one day I came home from football practice and my room had been completely redecorated into the black and red perfection it currently is. Mom had taken it upon herself to decide what should stay and what should go. My Tatum box went. My comics along with the letters she had written me, ticket stubs and random memorabilia and the few pictures I had of the two of us were gone. I was devastated. I hated my mom for a good six months. That box is probably the reason I still despise that perfect, orderly room.
I do this for an hour; stare at the plays, absorbing nothing because I can’t stop thinking about Tatum. About our past and our present and our future.
When the rapid clicking on the keyboard ceases I look up and see her smiling at the screen.
“Did you write it?”
She turns her eyes to me and they are full of contentment. “I think so.”
“Can I read it?”
“Nope,” she says pulling out her memory key and closing the computer. “You’re gonna have to wait until Monday like everyone else.”
“What? That’s not cool. I should get special privileges seeing how I let you use my computer and I was here silently supporting your effort.”
“Nope,” she repeats. “How’s it going over there? You have those plays down?”
“Not one. Unlike you, I’m very distracted by your presence in the room.”
“I was distracted by you too. But lucky for me, my distractions managed to inspire me to write.” She climbs across the bed, sitting on the edge of it in front of me. She pulls the playbook from my hands and studies it.
She quizzes me on the plays, adding in her commentary as she goes… that play is way too complicated for Nash, you might as well forget it… like Reggie’s going to stop ten yards down the field to catch your pass – I would aim long on that one. It’s not only entertaining but helps me visualize them a lot faster than usual.
“You got this,” she tells me after what seems like not nearly enough time. Roger never relented until I could repeat back to him without hesitation every move that every player on the field was making. But I’m not about to suggest we keep studying when there are so many other things I want to do with her
“What now?” I ask her.
“You hungry?”
The night carried on in complete normalcy. Tatum and I made dinner for ourselves and her mom and sister. I joined them on the couch for a bitch fest centered on some reality TV show, and then we in sat around the table playing President until midnight.
Both of us ignored the calls we got. I’m guessing the persistence of hers and the anger on her face meant she was getting calls from Nash. I didn’t have one from Summer. I had to force myself to think about her because it wasn’t coming naturally and that fact made me feel like shit.
When we all retired for the night I tried to convince Tatum that it would be better if I slept in the living room but she told me I was being stupid; that her bed was big enough for both of us and my body was too long for the sofa.
When the lights were turned off and I was under the covers in her warm bed I didn’t care anym
ore if it was right or wrong. It felt too damn good.
It’s hard though… to stay on my side. I can feel the heat from her body and hear the faint sounds of her breathing. I can smell her hair and her skin.
Every inch of my body is begging my brain to let me touch her.
“I don’t know what’s happening here… between us… but when we go back to school tomorrow we have to act like nothing has changed.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“I’m not riding with you to school and I’m not sitting by you at lunch.”
The stress in her voice makes me smile. “Got it,” I tell her.
“And don’t look at me when you see me in the halls or the commons like you were today.”
“Was I looking at you?” I ask, feigning innocence. I had a radar on her all day. I could feel when she was near me and she’s damn right- I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.
“Yes, Brandon, you were.”
“So you want me to pretend like you don’t exist?”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t you think that will look suspicious? I mean, even when I was trying to stay out of your life I didn’t do a very good job of keeping my eyes off of you.”
“We have to try. I just… don’t take this the wrong way, I’m not asking for you to choose or give me an answer because you think I want it, but… what about Summer?”
The pain in her voice makes my heart ache for Summer. “I don’t want to hurt her. She’s made it so easy for me to walk away from her and entertain the idea of being with you but I know her. I know, no matter what she says, it’s gonna kill her to see me with you.”
“Is there a chance that you can work things out with her?” Tatum asks and I can’t read her tone. Does she want me to go back to Summer?
“There’s nothing to work out. We weren’t having any problems. We never fought. There was never anything negative between us. There were no problems to work out. Except for the fact that she was perceptive enough to see that my feelings for you are too strong to fit into the friendship category.”
“It doesn’t seem right for you to walk away from something so perfect. I mean, you guys are good together. You have your whole future planned out.” I can hear it now, the fear in her voice.
“We were perfect, Tatum. Just like everything else in my life. I love her. I was happy with her. She was never anything but good to me. But the way I feel, the way I’ve always felt, when I’m with you is something I never felt with her. I don’t know what it is; it’s more than happiness or desire or even love. It’s something that I’ve never felt from anything or anyone and none of us can help that I only have that with you and I will never have it with her. It’s not something I can forget or walk away from. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
She lets out a long breath. “Yeah, unfortunately I do.”
I reach out in the darkness and find Tatum’s hand. I wrap my fingers around hers and there is no denying that what happens when I touch her, when we are near each other, is real. “I respect her so much. I never wanted to hurt her. It’s going to be damn hard to act like I don’t want to be as close to you as I can, but you’re right. We don’t need to be shoving it in anyone’s face. But I think we can act like we’re friends. I think it’s okay if I speak to you at lunch or smile at you in the halls.”
“We are terrible people, Brandon.”
“We’re not terrible. I promise you.”
We lay there in silence for a long time. My body won’t settle down, it’s buzzing with the knowledge that Tatum is in bed with me. I’m pretty sure Tatum has dozed off but then she whispers. “I love you, Brandon. I wish I didn’t. I wish there was something I could do to stop it. But I can’t. I love you.”
“I love you too, Tatum, and I know it seems wrong right now but it’s not. Eventually our brains will feel exactly like our bodies do and everyone will have moved past this. I promise you. But, Tatum, I can’t sleep if I’m touching you. Even if it’s just our hands,” I tell her, removing mine from hers.
“Me either,” she says, before I feel a large pillow being placed between my body and hers.
I can’t help but laugh at that. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell her before forcing myself to turn away from her.
“Good night,” she mutters.
35
Tatum is a wreck the next morning. Flustered is not a state I’m used to seeing her in and it’s damn cute to see her vulnerable for once. She purposely dressed in a baggy Cougar’s sweatshirt, holey jeans and her Vans; skipped the makeup and threw her hair in a sloppy bun on top of her head. I guess, for Summer’s benefit.
I grab a hold of her waist and run my hands up her back. “I hate to break it to you, Austin, but you’re the sexiest girl at Carver even when you’re trying to look like a boy. This is exactly the kind of look that pisses girls off because you’re so damn beautiful, even when you’re not trying to be.”
She ignores my come on and tells me, “We should get going. I need to be in that school before anyone realizes we came together.” Tatum’s realization that she rode home with me and left her truck at school, therefore shooting her plan to arrive separate from me to hell, was cause for a mini panic attack this morning.
I run my hands up her body and onto her tense face. I hold her steady until her frantic eyes connect with mine. “Relax, Tate. Everything is going to be okay. I promise you.” She still looks panicked so I lean down and take her stiff lips in mine until they become relaxed and pliable. I lose myself in her and let my body back hers into the wall so I can feel the press of her against me. I let my mouth delve deeply into hers, spurred on by the fact that she seems to be forgetting too. Her tongue eagerly licks at mine and her nails dig into my back – a feeling I’ve been craving ever since she did it to me the first time. My fingers snake under the hem of her t-shirt and over the soft skin on her belly before I grab onto her and push her inches up the wall. She groans. I push her harder into the wall, my leg knocking hers apart until my hard on is pressed tightly into her. Her nails are digging so hard now, I know they’re gonna leave a mark and I’m so fucking turned on that I’m prepared to strip her naked right now. Right here.
A low, long whistle brings me back to reality. “Not an item, my ass,” Tally says loudly before barking out a laugh.
Tatum immediately pushes me off of her and the panic resurfaces on her face. “Let’s go,” she orders.
I follow her out to my car and reach for her fidgeting hands as soon as we’re both settled.
“Brandon, no.”
I ignore her and let my fingers fasten themselves to her. “Tatum, yes. If I have to spend the rest of the day acting like there is something I would rather be doing than talking to you and touching you then I’m gonna take what I can get now.”
She clasps onto my hand but her leg starts bouncing frantically. “I’m being a lunatic. I’m acting like a lunatic, aren’t I?”
“A little bit,” I laugh. “Take a breath, Tate. The only person we’re worried about is Summer and the only time you are going to see her is in the halls and at lunch. It’s all good, okay?”
“Yeah. It’s all good,” she agrees but her tone betrays her easy words.
As soon as I have my car parked, she’s out the door and making her way around the front end. I throw my door open and don’t bother shutting it in order to get to her before she escapes. I snag her by the waist and spin her around until she’s enveloped in my arms. “You leaving without saying goodbye?”
“Brandon, stop,” she says, trying to gain some leverage on my chest.
“Look around the lot, Tate. There’s no one here.”
Her eyes make a quick sweep of the vacant lot. “People could show up at any minute.”
I lean back against my car and she falls between my legs. I wrap my fingers around her neck and tell her. “Don’t run away from me. I’m gonna miss you today. At least say goodbye to me.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “God, Brandon. I
know that if I even look at you people are going to be able to see how much I want you.” Her fingers dig into my abs and my body instantly reacts to her touch.
“Jesus, Tatum. I think you’re right,” I tell her, considering for the first time that what’s happening between us is going to be obvious, that people will just feel the desire being exchanged by our bodies.
“We’re screwed.”
“Totally,” I agree before pulling her lips into mine one last time. Her body falls onto mine and when she’s met with my blatant desire for her she releases a moan into my open mouth and I have no choice but to gently ease her off of me. If I thought she’d be cool with it I would take her right now in the parking lot. That’s how lost in her I am. “Go,” I manage to mutter.
Her relaxed, heavy-lidded eyes snap instantly back into panic mode. She gives me one last kiss before racing across the lot. I watch her go, thinking the whole time that I’m done for. At least she is managing to keep one foot in reality, but me… I am a complete goner.
I get back in my car and wait, tempted the entire time to go into that empty school and find her in the library, take her behind a book shelf so I can feel her body against mine again. When I see Angel across the lot with his group of friends, a fit of jealousy erupts in me because I know he’s headed to her. I watch from a distance as students pass thinking how stupid this is. Who cares what they think?
But then at the back of the lot I see Summer’s mom’s minivan. It stops long enough to let Summer out. When I see that it makes me wonder what she’s going through. How much has my absence changed her life? How bad would it would suck if I were in her shoes, being dropped off by my mom instead of driving with my girl. Preparing to enter that school not knowing if I was gonna see the girl I loved in the arms of someone else and I know Tatum’s right. I know that inside this school, at least until I know Summer’s okay, I have to stay away from Tatum.
A God in Carver (Carver High #1) Page 26