Unbearable (the TORQUED trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

Rawley: True. I don’t. But I’d bet money he is.

Me: Shut up. Don’t ruin my night.

He doesn’t reply after that. I even text Lenny and ask her what’s going on.

Me: Lenny… is Tyler seeing Berkley?

It takes her an hour and I’m halfway through my marketing term paper but she replies.

Lenny: No. He can’t stand her.

I send the picture to her.
Me: What does this look like then?

Lenny: Looks to me he’s leaving and whoever took the picture caught it out of context.

I guess I know
why
he didn’t reply to my message three weeks ago. Maybe he’s moved on and there’s nothing I can do about it. Maybe the reason he can’t love me is because he’s still in love with her? Unlikely. Tyler holds grudges. I know that much. When he was fifteen, the neighbor kid hit him in the face with a baseball. Knocked out two teeth. To this day, Tyler won’t even acknowledge poor Johnny when he walks into Walker Automotive to get his oil changed. Maybe because it wasn’t an accident and Johnny meant to hit him, but still, years later, he apologized and Tyler wouldn’t accept it.

The likelihood of him forgiving Berkley is low, but there’s a girly part of me, the same part that got drunk and begged him to love me, thinks maybe he might because they have history together.

“WHAT DO YOU mean Tyler’s coming over for dinner?” I ask Lenny in horror as we stand in my mother’s kitchen peeling potatoes on Thanksgiving.

Lenny takes the potato peeler in her hand and points it at my face. “Don’t blame me. Mia invited him. And besides that, Tyler’s actually my family.”

She’s right. Tyler is the closest thing Lenny has to family. It’s easy to forget Lenny’s background because looking at her now, she’s completely comfortable in the life she and Red have. You’d never know what she’s been through in the last year from her abusive ex-husband to him coming after her and shooting Red in the chest. It’s amazing to me how well they’ve both adjusted to everything.

“I know that, but still….” I start sweating and my heart pounds in my chest, pretty much an indication that once I see him this will be a lot worse and it might possibly lead to me having a heart attack. I don’t know why but I assumed I wouldn’t see him this weekend and could silently avoid him. I mean, he hasn’t messaged me in weeks so it was possible but now highly unlikely unless I left. Which I wouldn’t do because Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

“What do I do?”

Lenny shrugs. “Maybe play hard to get?”

I sigh, my shoulders slumping forward. “I can’t. I’m incredibly
easy
to get.”

Trying not to think about him coming over, I turn my attention to cooking. By the way, I’m not good at it. In fact, I usually don’t cook at all but it certainly never stops my mom from trying to make me her little Betty Crocker.

I’m good at math and organization. Organization and my mother have never been friends. I’m too methodical for my mother’s style of cooking because she doesn’t use measuring cups. I can’t handle not being precise.

As I measure out the right amount of salt for the mashed potatoes, mom frowns in disappointment. “What are you doing, Raven? I just use a pinch.”

A pinch?

I look at Lenny. “A pinch is a teaspoon, right?”

She shrugs, hiding a grin and mixing the gravy on the stove, entertained by my weirdness. Most people are.

Just as I hear the front door open and voices in the family room indicating the arrival of someone I probably don’t want to see, mom pushes me toward the dining room. “Okay, let me handle the potatoes. How about you show Nova how to set the table?”

She’s not asking me, she’s telling me.

Nova’s staring at the china cabinet when I walk into the dining room, her hands on her hip. “Why are they kept in a cabinet?”

Reaching on the top of the cabinet, I bring down the key and unlock it. “They’re fancy dishes that Grandma wants to keep pretty so she puts them in a cabinet.”

Nova shrugs and reaches for one as soon as I open the cabinet. I help her so she doesn’t break them and within a minute we have the table set. Tears sting my eyes when I set the plate down where my dad would have been sitting. It’s the first Thanksgiving without him and it hurts. Bad. I can’t imagine what mom is going through today but the sensation stinging my chest is awful as I stare at the head of the table.

“What’s wrong?” Nova asks, curiously watching me. “Do you miss Papa?”

Looking down at Nova I see an understanding no five-year-old should have. I brush the falling tears aside and hand her the forks. “I’m okay. Here, put a fork next to each plate but make sure it’s straight.”

She doesn’t. I mean, she puts the forks by the plates next to the knives I place on the neatly folded napkins, but they’re at odd angles and it’s just not acceptable.

Each time I adjust one, I find them slightly twisted in another direction when I come back around the table. I know who’s doing it and lift the table cloth up to find Rawley underneath of the table.

“You’re a dick. Get up.”

He falls back on the floor laughing. “Took you long enough. Nova had all those knives straight the first time.”

Nova crawls on her knees and high-fives Rawley under the table. “Told you she’d fall for it.”

I have a distinct impression I was set up from the beginning. “Jerk.”

He grabs my ankle when I try to get away from them and I end up falling face first on the floor. Kicking at his head but missing, the two of us wrestle until he tickles my side and has Nova sit on my head. “Don’t let her up, Nova.”

“Tap out!” I scream, trying to move a forty-pound kid off my head.

“What does tap out mean?” Standing up, she stares down at Rawley and me.

“It means stop.”

“Tap that means—”

I slam my fist into Rawley’s side. “Don’t you dare tell her that.”

He laughs, or attempts to. I knocked the wind out of him with my punch.

Footsteps draw my attention over my shoulder as I frown at my twin brother. “You’re such a child.”

After shoving me into the table, Rawley walks away. “You started it.”

Turning my head, I wish I wouldn’t have. I’m not sure what to expect seeing Tyler today but he’s here, his back to me as he stands in the kitchen next to my mom.

Heat pricks my chest seeing him and being in the same room. “Thanks for inviting me,” he says to my mom, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“You’re always welcome, Ty. You know that.” Setting down the spoon in her hand, she gives him a hug. “How’re your parents doing today?”

Tyler’s body tenses, his posture tight. “I’m sure they’re doing good.”

I’m sure they’re good? What does I’m sure mean?

He doesn’t notice me yet. He’s wearing loose fitting dark jeans with a navy blue sweater I know will bring out his eyes and my panties will come off.

Just don’t look him in the eyes.

Easier said than done. His eyes are so beautiful I automatically search them out. It’s like a habit I can’t stop. A nervous twitch or something.

“Is Raven here?” he asks, his hands in the pockets of his jeans now.

Is that excitement I hear in his voice?

Crap. Double crap. He’s looking for me. I’m trying to hide behind a dining room chair that probably couldn’t even hide Nova, let alone me.

He’s not talking to me but his voice invades me, makes me want the roughness against my skin and my name on his lips.

“Yeah, she’s in the dining room,” Mom says, ratting me out.

When I think I might be able to sneak away without him noticing me, he fucking turns and looks right at me like he knows I was standing here all along.

“Hey,” he says, so simple, like it shouldn’t mean anything but it does. It means everything to me because they’re the simplest of words spoken under the most awkward of situations.

“Why are you here?” I ask curiously, watching him as he walks toward me with a slow gait, his hands remaining in his pockets.

Why do you look so fucking good all the time?

I want to reach up and grab a fistful of his hair as it falls in his face. And then drop to my knees and give Wang a kiss.

Pathetic
.

“Is it a problem I’m here?” His brow raises and I’m not sure what to say. He glances at me, and then back down.

Nope. Not a problem.

Liar.

Screw that. Yes! It’s a fucking problem!

“It’s a free country but aren’t you usually at your parents’ for Thanksgiving?”

He shrugs, his gaze darting from mine when Nova spots him. His jaw is tight and he doesn’t look relaxed any longer. “Things change.”

“Uncle Ty!”

Tyler then drops to his knees at Nova’s level, the two of them wrestling on the floor of the dining room.

Stepping over them, I walk into the kitchen where Lenny’s making whip cream and Red’s licking some from her finger, sucking it slowly in his mouth and grabbing her ass at the same time.

“You two are disgusting,” I grumble, bumping Lenny’s shoulder. When Red smiles and walks away, I give Lenny a serious stare. “What’s with Tyler? Why isn’t he at his parents’?”

She shrugs and leans into the counter. “I’m not sure. He won’t say but for the last three weeks he’s been all sorts of weird.”

“I told him I loved him when I was drunk,” I admit, my gaze dropping to the floor in what I can only describe as a moment of pure let down. I can’t believe I put myself out there like that.

Actually, yes. Yes I can. Alcohol makes me an idiot and emotionally unstable.

“Holy shit, really? You told him you loved him? Do you?”

“Yes, really. I did. And I think I do, but I was drunk and he drove to my school and picked my drunk ass up and took me back to my dorm. And I puked on him.”

It takes Lenny a moment to process what I’m telling her and then she shakes her head. “I don’t think that has anything to do with what’s going on with him. He’s been acting really weird at work lately. It’s something else.”

I hope it is but sadly, I don’t think she’s right. I mean, he’s clearly afraid of commitment and I basically told him that’s what I wanted. I don’t blame him for freaking out.

WITHIN AN HOUR
after Tyler arrives, we’re all seated at the dinner table, an awkwardness settling over us when Red gives an expansive sigh, his gaze on his child not eating and building a mashed potato volcano. “Nova, stop playing with your food and eat it.”

“I don’t like food. And I ate dinner last night. Why do I have to eat today?”

Lenny leans over and brushes Nova’s curls out of her face. “Because Grandma spent a lot of time on the meal. You want to make her happy, right?”

Nova’s eyes dart to Mom who gives her a silly look, one eyebrow quirked and then she sticks her bottom lip out. “Won’t you eat, honey?”

“Fine.” Nova gives Red a scowl. “But only because Grammy asked.”

I don’t know why but Nova’s been giving Red a hard time lately, mostly in the last month since school started but she’s also one of those kids who hates change and disruption in her routine. Kindergarten fucked that all up.

Clearing my throat, I reach for my glass of spiked egg nog and end up dumping it on my plate. Classic move on my part.