My pulse throbbed in my throat, and I swallowed.

Fine without me?

And I hadn’t breathed a single day without her on my mind.

She leveled me with her resigned expression and flat eyes. I wondered if she’d believed what she’d

said.

I wondered if it was true.

She turned back around to her work table, not giving away anything until she knocked her binder to the floor, and its contents spilled everywhere.

I stepped behind her, and we bent down together to pick up the papers.

Was she nervous?

Tate wasn’t usually clumsy.

Gathering up the papers, I pinched my eyebrows together and studied the internet printouts of cars for sale that were among the papers. “You’re looking at cars?” I asked.

The selection included a Mustang, a Charger, a 300M and a G8. “Yeah,” she snipped. “I’m getting myself a birthday present.” Birthday. I nearly said it out loud.

I guess now I knew what to tell her dad she wanted.

She’d want the car soon. Her birthday was coming up in less than a week. I wondered if he’d trust me to tag along with her to go buy one instead of making her wait.

Would she trust me?

“Jared?” She held out her hand for the papers.

I blinked, coming out of my thoughts. “I forgot your birthday was coming up,” I lied. “Does your dad know you’re looking to buy a car so soon?” I asked as I came up beside her at the table.

“Does your mom know you provide alcohol to minors and sleep around on the weekends?” she retorted, serving my shit back to me.

“‘Does my mom care’ would be a better question.” I couldn’t hide the disdain in my tone as I started helping her unload her crate.

Even before I’d met Tate, my relationship with my mother was broken. I roamed, left to stick up for myself or my mom on the few occasions one of her asshole drinking buddies got rough. Not that I could throw much weight around at that age, but I tried.

In her monologue, Tate reminded me of how she healed me when she thought I’d healed her. We were both fighting for happiness. Fighting to just be kids when we met.

Those four years we spent together were the best I’d ever felt.

I snapped my head to the side when I heard glass shatter to the floor.

What the…?

Tate had whipped around, probably having tried to catch the flask, and leaned on the counter looking down at her mess.

What the hell was going on with her?

She stared at the damage, almost looking like she was in pain as her chest rose and fell in hard, deep breaths.

Tate wasn’t what I would call “controlled,” but she’d been holding her own with Madoc and me since her return.

Until now.

“I make you nervous,” I said regretfully, looking at the shattered glass on the floor. “Just go.” I heard her pained whisper and flinched.

Looking up at her, I saw the embarrassment and frustration in her eyes. She didn’t want me here. I didn’t know if it was because she hated me and needed me gone or because she wasn’t sure what she wanted.

I was finally seeing how I had twisted her up. I was playing with her, even though I didn’t mean to. I thought I hated her, so I pushed her. Now, I wanted her, so I was pulling her back in.

Time and again, it was about me and never her.

“Look at me.” I brought my hand up to her cheek and a shock of heat traveled through my arm. “I’m sorry. I should never have treated you the way I did.”

Her eyes met mine, and I willed her to believe me.

Her breathing got shallow, and she searched for something in my eyes. Or waited for something.

Placing my other hand on her cheek, I never broke contact. She watched me inch in, not welcoming me but not resisting it, either.

I moved my lips closer, never taking my eyes from hers as I waited for her to push me away. As the seconds ticked by I finally snatched up her mouth before I let her have any more time to reconsider.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 611