I ended up sitting there for hours, until the first rays of dawn began to peek through the curtains over the large window, until I was sure that there was little chance she would be sick, and until I was so shocked with myself that I realized I’d spent the entire night like some kind of bedside nurse, something I’d never done before—never even considered doing before. Even though I was tired and my back ached when I stood like I was much older than my twenty-three years, I knew that meant something, that had to. But I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Chapter 3
Andrea
Idly flipping through the pages of the latest US Weekly, I quickly gave up and tossed the magazine onto the beige cushion beside me. My attention wandered over the potted plants in front of the darkened window, to the TV, and I sighed heavily.
Sunday nights just weren’t the same without The Walking Dead.
Bored out of my mind and beyond restless, I pushed myself off the comfy couch and walked the short distance to my bedroom. My apartment was more of a loft converted into a one-bedroom. The rooms were decent-sized, larger than most, and I was super grateful that my parents had hooked me up my junior year of college. I could stay here without worrying about that kind of expense. No matter what some people thought, I knew how incredibly lucky I was.
I stopped a few feet from my bed and stared at the gray and white comforter I hadn’t straightened this afternoon when I’d peeled myself out of bed after spending most the day nursing one hell of a hangover. Last night was a blur of cocktails mixed with tequila and rum. I remembered dancing and grabby hands, and I also remembered Tanner intervening and driving me home, but after his truck pulled up in the parking lot, I honestly didn’t remember a thing. I figured he’d gotten my butt into my apartment and bed, because there’d been a glass of water on my nightstand when I’d woken up that I doubted I’d gotten myself.
God, I needed to stop drinking.
I looked around my room. What was I doing? I had absolutely no idea why I’d even walked in here. My suitcase, already packed for the trip to the cabin in the morning, was sitting by the silver-cushioned papasan chair next to my dresser. I was one of those people—the ones that sometimes packed days before a trip.
Exhaling yet another deep sigh, I stood there for a couple of minutes and then spun around, walking into the kitchen. This time I stopped in front of my fridge. Stainless steel. Double sides. My parents had wanted updated appliances, only the best, but all I could see were my fingerprints all over the door and handle.
I yanked open the door and the ring of bottles clattering off one another sent a shiver down my spine. The jangling was like music—like Jingle Bells, if Jingle Bells was drunk. Six bottles of Redd’s Apple Ale sat all by their lonesome.
A spasm caused my fingers to tighten on the handle, and I started to kneel down, my other hand flashing out, reaching for a bottle. You do drink too much. Sucking in a sharp breath, I closed my eyes. I didn’t drink that much. Just every now and then, no different than half the population of the United States, so it wasn’t like I had a problem.
Not yet, an insidious, annoying voice whispered.
Grabbing a can of soda, I shoved the fridge door shut, ignoring the enticing rattle that haunted my steps. I walked back into the living room, popping the top on the can. I leaned against the back of my couch, the soda dangling from my fingers. I tried to make sense of the blurred images from last night, even though I knew that was pointless. It wasn’t like I blacked out or something, not really. I just couldn’t remember all the fine details. That wasn’t the same thing. I shifted my weight from one foot to the next, suddenly uncomfortable.
A band of pressure tightened around my chest. Tanner was never going to let me live last night down. Even though it wasn’t the first time he’d escorted me home, somehow it felt different. I wondered if I’d cussed at him. Worse yet, I seriously hoped I hadn’t hit on him. Or tried to rub his head again. Goodness, if so, that was going to be so embarrassing. Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to take deep and slow breaths until the band had eased up.
Time crawled by, and I had no idea how long I stood there, but it wasn’t even 9:30 when I glanced at the sparkly wall clock. Walking my butt back to the kitchen, I placed the soda on the counter and opened up the cabinet above the microwave.
A Target pharmacy had exploded inside.
Allergy pills. Imodium. Tums. Cold meds. Red plastic bottles were sprinkled among them. I reached for the closest one, Sonata. The little blue and green pills of sleepy happiness rattled as I picked up the bottle. They really didn’t help me stay asleep longer, but less than thirty minutes or so after taking one, I was out cold or completely loopy. Wasn’t like that for everyone—my doc told me once that every person responded differently to sleeping aids, but for me, after taking the dose I was more than ready to end the day and rush toward tomorrow.
Always rushing toward tomorrow.
I smiled wryly as I twisted the lid off and shook a pill out. Tossing it into my mouth, I washed it down with what I realized, after I swallowed, was a Pepsi Max. A startled laugh escaped me. Sleeping pills and caffeine? I was a walking oxymoron.
It had been my junior year in college when I’d developed a mean case of insomnia. All that studying and those weird hours had formed a routine of only sleeping a few hours—usually around four in the morning—and I hadn’t been able to break it. I’d never meant to continue using them. God knows I knew these pills kicked off a whole different kind of habit, but now I had a hell of a time sleeping without them. Which was really lame when I thought about it, being that I was twenty-two and already popping sleeping pills at nine-thirty at night when I’d slept half the day away as it was.
Syd didn’t like that I took them. She wanted me to try something more natural. She also didn’t like the other pills sitting in my cabinet. And she really didn’t like that I… whatever. Being that Syd was well on her way to becoming a psychologist, she had a lot of opinions about a lot of things.
I’d just screwed the cap back on the bottle when there was a knock on the door, startling me.
“What the hell?” I left the bottle on the counter, next to the Pepsi, and walked into the living room. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I had no idea who it could be since Syd would’ve texted or called before showing up.
What if it was a mass murderer? Or—or a neighbor who needed sugar, a sexy neighbor who was in the midst of baking cookies and needed a key ingredient?
Please be a hot dude who needed sugar.
Hurrying across the room, I placed my hands on the door and stretched up, peering through the peephole. “Holy shit.”
I had to be hallucinating, which seemed possible since those pills sometimes made me see some weird crap. And what I was seeing was bizarre. I recognized the light brown buzz cut, the chiseled cut of a jaw in profile.
Tanner was here.
Of course, he knew where I lived, but he’d never, in the history of ever, shown up unannounced for any reason. My heart dropped as I rocked back. Concern blossomed in the pit of my stomach. Had something happened? Oh my God, as a firefighter, would he know if something had happened to Kyler or Syd or even my family? Was that why he was here? Reaching down, I unlocked the door and threw it open.
“Tanner…” Everything and anything I was about to say died on my lips.
He’d turned to me, and his brilliant azure gaze collided with mine for the briefest of seconds before dropping in a slow perusal that glided from my eyes down to the tips of my blue-polished toes. But that gaze…it lingered in some areas more than others, halted in a way that made his stare feel like an actual caress. The air hitched in my throat. I felt sort of dizzy.
Then I realized what I was wearing.
Since I hadn’t planned on company, I wasn’t dressed for it—wearing cotton shorts that really weren’t much bigger than boy shorts and a cami that did nothing to hide anything.
Oh my God.
I was almost naked. Practically. Lik
e, the entire length of my legs were visible and if he’d thought I was a proud owner of a thigh gap, he so knew differently now. There was no doubt in my mind that he knew how chilly I kept my apartment because of how thin my tank was, and I was not lacking in that department.
The longer he stared, the more conflicted I became about the whole thing. I wanted to dash back to my bedroom and layer up with clothing, but I also wanted him to look his fill.
But I didn’t have a body like Sydney or Mandie or Brooke. Or Clara Hansen, my freshman year roommate. I wasn’t tiny like any of them. I wasn’t straight up and straight down. My waist wasn’t miniscule and my stomach sure as hell wasn’t flat. It kind of did this weird concave thing, and right then, that damn pooch under my navel was probably visible through this freaking shirt. My hips weren’t slim. They were full, as was my ass. In other words, I would never strut around wearing this in front of a guy. Instead, I would strut with clothing strategically designed to hide all the flaws.
I’d sure as hell never caught Tanner’s attention in the past, never in a good way at least, so this…this was different.
Warmth invaded my cheeks, warring with the unsettling heat that had lit up my veins. I cleared my throat. “Is…is everything okay? Nothing happened, right?”
He blinked, dragging his gaze back to mine. “Yeah. Why would you think something had happened?”
I glanced around the otherwise empty apartment. “Um, maybe because you don’t usually just show up at my place?”
“Good point.” He raised a hand, dragging it over his hair. Clasping the back of his neck, he angled his head to the side. “Can I come in for a moment? I’m not going to take up a lot of your time. I’m heading in for a swing shift tonight.”
“Sure.” Confused and a bit curious, I stepped aside, but then my stomach dropped a little bit more. Was he here because of last night? Oh no. Had I done something so stupid that it warranted an unexpected face-to-face visit?
I was so never going to drink again.
Tanner flashed a brief half-grin and walked in. As I closed the door behind him, he dropped his arm, and I couldn’t help but watch the way his biceps stretched the shirt he wore.
I folded my arms across my chest as he turned toward me. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He shook his head and then turned, heading toward the couch. Sucked to admit this, but he looked damn good in nylon sweats. He sat on the edge and patted the cushion next to him. “Sit for a sec?”
Okay. The smidgen of curiosity expanded, as did the anxiety. The band around my chest was back. Walking past him, I tried to ignore the kernel of self-consciousness growing in my stomach. I really hoped my butt wasn’t hanging out of my shorts. I sat beside him, sending him a quick side-glance. “So, what’s going on?”
Blue eyes so bright they almost seemed unreal met mine, and his gaze snared mine, hooked me in. Unsure of why I couldn’t look away, I tensed. “How are you feeling?”
“Huh?”
That grin appeared again, and was gone way too fast. “You were…a little out of it last night,” he reminded me.
“Oh. Yeah.” I felt my face heat as I shrugged. At least he hadn’t said I was trashed. “I’m okay. Had a bit of a hangover this morning.”
“I can imagine.”
I pursed my lips. “Is that why you came by? To ask me how I was feeling? Because if so, I’ve got to say, you must be either really bored or high.”
Tanner laughed, and my insides got all squishy at the deep sound. “I actually wanted to come by and make sure everything was going to be cool between us this week.”
My arms relaxed, settling in my lap. I was relieved, but also wary. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
One eyebrow lifted. “Is that a serious question?”
I yawned loudly as I leaned against the couch cushion. “Sure.”
Another smile greeted me, and I thought he was smiling at me a lot tonight, which made a weird, fuzzy memory wiggle loose. Something about smiling? “You and I? Well, we don’t exactly get along often.” He paused, like he wanted to choose his words wisely. “And I just don’t want to ruin it for Kyler and Sydney, you feel me?”
I jerked a little. “I would never ruin their time together.”
He turned the unnerving, piercing stare toward the TV. “Not on purpose.”
I started to frown, but ended up yawning again.
“I mean, it’s not just you. It’s me, too. I know I upset you a couple of days ago,” he said, and my mouth sort of dropped open as he smoothed his palms over his bent knees. “I’m sorry if I…if I hurt your feelings.”
All I could do was stare at him. Was I hallucinating?
“We joke around so much, and sometimes I think we both cross a line. So…yeah, I just wanted to make sure we’re going to be cool.” He looked at me then and his lips twitched. “You okay?”
I blinked, about to tell him that I was fine, but something totally different blurted out. “You don’t even remember, do you? We had, like, two classes together my freshman year.”
Now Tanner looked puzzled. “What?”
Shaking my head, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut, but my tongue was loose tonight. “Do you remember Clara Hansen?”
His lips tipped down at the corners. “Not really. I’m not following where this conversation is going.”
He didn’t remember Clara? Seriously? Wow. Part of me was pissed off on her behalf and the other part was disturbingly gleeful. “Never mind,” I said after a moment. “Everything will be fine. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Tanner eyed me. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”
I snickered, not sure if that was possible either. I mean, expecting the two of us not to argue would be like expecting me not to chase after the ice cream truck.
“Who’s Clara?” he persisted, and when I didn’t answer immediately, he looked away again, his eyes squinting.
Tired, I felt like I was sinking further into the cushion. “You know, you could’ve just called or texted me.”
“True,” he murmured. “But I was on my way past here.” There was a pause. “Did we really have two classes together?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Are you sure? I would’ve remembered you.”
The way he said that as he frowned didn’t really leave me with the warm and fuzzies. I sighed. My thoughts were slowing down, but I was almost positive that the fire department he worked for was not on the way to my place. I didn’t know what to make of that as I watched him.
Tanner opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but then seemed to change his mind. A moment passed. “You kissed me last night.”
My heart stopped. He dropped that little bomb like it was nothing, like he was telling me that it was almost ten o’clock. “What?”
“You kissed me last night, Andy.”
I leaned forward and to the side, away from him. “First off, stop calling me that and finally—most importantly—you’re so full of shit. I did not kiss you.”
Even as I said those words, I knew there could be a horrifyingly embarrassing possibility that what he said was true, since I didn’t remember everything.
His eyes took on that heavy hooded look that always made me want to squirm. “First off, I can’t help myself. I have to call you Andy, because I know you secretly enjoy it and finally—most importantly—”
I was so going to hit him.
“You did kiss me.” He leaned back, tossing an arm along the couch as he eyed me. “You stretched up, put your hands on my shoulders, and you kissed me.”
“No. No way.”
He nodded. “You also sort of used me as a pole at the bar. That was nice.”
I shot up, swaying as a rush of dizziness came over me. I ignored it. “I did not!”
“Yeah, you did.” One side of his lips kicked up. “You tasted of sugar and liquor. Not a bad mix.”
“Shut up,” I warned. “You’re messing with me.”
“W
hy would I mess with you over that?”
Good question. “Because you’re evil. That sounds legit.”
He arched a brow at that. “You also sort of invited me back to your bed.”
“What?” I nearly shrieked. “How does one ‘sort of’ invite someone to their bed?”
“Oh, trust me, you can sort of do it. You did.” He leaned forward, looking up at me. “Honestly, if you’d been able to walk a straight line and knew what you were doing, I’d have been all kinds of down for that.”
For a second, my brain got hung up on him being down with hooking up with me. So much so, all I could do was stare at him. Over the last couple of years, I honestly hadn’t believed Tanner thought about me in any way that would fall under the warm-and-fuzzy umbrella, let alone the sexy-andfun umbrella.
“You also sang ‘Story of My Life’ over and over again,” he added. “And I do mean, the entire drive to your apartment.”
I folded my arms. “So what? It’s a great song. One Direction is awesome.” I paused. “Wait. How do you even know that song? You listening to One Direction when no one is around?”
He shrugged. “I’m man enough to admit it’s a decent song.”
Shaking my head, I bit back a grin. Then I realized he wasn’t messing with me and that I really must’ve thrown myself at him. While drunk. While so drunk I couldn’t remember doing it. My face was on fire as I backed up, nearly knocking into the coffee table. More denials formed on the tip of my tongue, but as I stared down at him—down at that wonderfully formed mouth of his—an odd memory surfaced. Me, standing in the hall, walking toward him and doing exactly what he claimed, stretching up and kissing him.
Oh. My. God.
Fuck my life.
He cocked his head to the side. “You seriously don’t remember any of that?”
Without answering, I smacked my hands over my face and groaned. I let out a muffled, “Nooo.”
There was silence, and I lowered my hands, peeking above my fingers. Tanner was staring at the floor, his jaw set hard and he looked kind of angry. I folded my hands under my chin. “I’m…I’m sorry?”
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