Aflame (Fall Away #4) (6 page)

And my fucking eyes started burning, and I had to look away.

The backyard where we made love the first time. Our bedroom windows facing each other. The tree that connected us.

I bared my teeth, inhaling a sharp breath. I’d thought nothing would change.

“Jared.” Madoc cleared his throat. “We just told you that your girl tried to cut down your tree. The one you tattooed on your back.” His hard voice got louder. “That the house she’s lived in ever since you’ve known her is up for sale.”

“She’s not my girl,” I barked.

“She’s not anyone else’s, either!” Madoc shot back. “Tatum Brandt loves one person. You. She will always love you.” His threatening growl was almost a whisper. “She breathes for you, no matter how much she denies it or tries to hide it.”

I wanted to believe that was true. That buried inside this new, cold Tate was the girl that still held my heart.

Standing up, I slid my hand into my pocket, my fingers fisting around the familiar round of clay that held her fingerprint. After all this time, I still needed the little thumbprint fossil she’d made as a kid. I couldn’t live a day without her.

“You should’ve come back for her a long time ago,” Madoc scolded.

“I did,” I growled, lashing out at Madoc. “Six months after I left I came back, and she was with somebody else!”

I inched back, my limp hand releasing the fossil and falling to my side as I looked at his shocked expression.

I nodded breathlessly when he remained speechless. “Yeah, I came back, and it was too fucking late, okay?”

Jax knew, but Madoc and I hadn’t been speaking, and from the looks of it, Jax hadn’t told him.

I could still feel everything as if it was yesterday.

I stand at my old bedroom window, stunned and angry. Frozen and hard.

I vaguely recognize the guy. Gavin something. He was from one of her study groups at Northwestern; I’d met him a year ago. I ball my fists. How long did she wait after I left?

Tate is in her bedroom, her arms wrapped around his neck as he holds her close, slow dancing with her. He kisses her, and my stomach coils into a knot.

His blond hair—matching hers—is cropped short, and she laughs as he hugs her close and swings her around.

Six months. She couldn’t even wait six fucking months.

I’d waited. I hadn’t screwed anybody. Not a damn thing but my hand—a pathetic loser still pining for her and believing she would wait. Holding out hope that I could get her back.

My chest caves, and I zoom in on them, hating that she laughs, hating that he dances with her, and hating that she’s moved on.

I still love her. Nothing has faded for me.

I fall into the window, my hands gripping the frame as I watch him kiss her neck. His hands are all over her, and she’s smiling.

Why is she smiling? She can’t want him.

He falls on the bed, taking her with him. She straddles his waist, and I lunge back, jutting my leg out and kicking the glass, hearing it shatter but not staying to survey the damage.

Let her move on if that’s what she wants.

I will, too, and everything will be done.

Bolting out of the house, I jump in my car and head back to my hotel in Chicago, where my team is racing.

I’ll forget her.

I try to forget her.

But I don’t.

I didn’t know when she started seeing that guy, but I knew one thing. She was back in the game before I was.

“Gavin,” Madoc remembered. “She tried to move on after you left. They dated for a couple of months, but then she broke things off.” He looked me dead in the eyes, but I didn’t want details.

“I don’t care,” I maintained. I didn’t want his name or the name of anyone else she’d been seeing.

But Madoc pushed on. “She’s been single for over a year, Jared,” he pointed out. “She wasn’t over you, so she cut things off with him when she realized she’d tried to jump back in too fast. It took her a long time to heal, but she needed to try to move on with her life.” He looked at Jax and then back at me. “She only recently started dating someone again,” he said quietly.

I cast an angry glance at him but kept my voice low.

“Who?”

“She started seeing Ben Jamison over spring break.”

Jesus. Ben Jamison?

“As far as I know, though,” Madoc continued, “they’re taking it slow. It’s not serious yet.”

I noticed Pasha staring, unblinking, at the spectacle before her.

“What are you staring at?” I growled.

She popped a gummy candy in her mouth. “This is better than TV.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing my breathing to calm down as I dipped my head. “If she wants him,” I told Madoc and Jax in a calm tone, “then let her be with him.”

Madoc let out a bitter laugh. “Take off your pants.”

I popped my head up. “Why?”

“Because I want to see what a man with a pussy looks like.”

Mother . . .
I moved right into Madoc’s space, standing chest to chest and glaring down at him.

He fell back a step but stood strong, looking like he wanted to drive a hole through my head with his eyes.

Jax cut between us, pushing me back as I held Madoc’s stare.

“Pasha?” Jax stood in front of me, arms crossed over his chest and looking into my eyes as he spoke to my assistant. “Does my brother drive with a charm hanging on his rearview mirror?” he asked. “It has a thumbprint on it.”

I dropped my glare to Jax.

“Yeah,” she answered. “And it’s around his neck when he’s on his bike.”

Jax continued, his smug smirk pissing me off. “Does he avoid blondes like a preacher in a pink shirt?”

I swallowed, hearing Pasha’s snort. “Can’t stand ’em, actually,” she answered.

Jax continued, holding my eyes, “Does he have an almost unhealthy obsession with Seether? Specifically, the songs ‘Remedy’ and ‘Broken’?”

“I’m to make sure they’re on every playlist,” she shot back, repeating my directions to her.

Goddamn it.

Jax dipped his chin, eyeing me defiantly. “Now, we can spend weeks going back and forth. You want her. You hate her. You can’t live without her one day. You can’t stand her the next. And we’ll all be ready to strangle ourselves as you two go back and forth, but let me ask you this.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “What would you do if Tate was in her room right now, curled up in bed and wearing only a sheet? Where would you want to be?”

My face fell, but my body flooded with heat at the idea of her warm body curled up between the sheets.

He inhaled a deep breath, knowing he had my number. “We want everything the way it was,” he said firmly. “And so do you.”

I shook my head and turned around, away from their eyes.

Yeah, I was still attached to her. So what?

I was happy with my life.

Pretty happy, anyway.

I was the man I had set out to be for her when I left. With a job I loved, I was able to invest in my future and start my own business. The freedom to make decisions—to spend my days doing work I loved—gave me not only security but peace as well. I had the kids at the track, the work at the shop, and the time and resources to explore my ideas and passion. I was proud of how I spent my days and of the man I’d become.

But my brother was right.

She was and would always be the last image in my head when I fell asleep at night.

I turned around and dug my cell out of my pocket, deciding that he was right. No more fucking around.

“Call my accountant.” I tossed the phone to Pasha. “Buy the house.”

“Jared!” She scrambled off the grass, shock flaring in her eyes. “This house is going to cost everything you have!”

I did no more than raise an eyebrow at her. She held up her hands and looked away, shaking her head. She was pissed off, but she knew the argument was over.

I knew why she was worried, and she had every right to be. She’d put in a lot of work building me, my name, and my business up, and even though it wasn’t her money, she cared about my security. I really liked her for that.

I ignored the slight grins Madoc and Jax flashed to each other and started back toward the car, calling over my shoulder. “And call the guys,” I shouted to Pasha. “I want my car here.”

Tate was right. The game had changed.

She had no idea.

Tate

I slink through a glob of people, carrying my red Solo cup into the kitchen to refill.

Madoc’s house is a mess.

Fallon is having fun—alternating between picking up used cups and chatting with our friends, while her husband is downstairs with Jax, playing pool with some guys. Juliet and I mingle around the party, which is overrun with guests.

Everyone had come home for the weekend, and I’d brought Gavin, as well, trying to get my father used to a new guy in my life.

“Hey,” he whispers in my ear, coming up from behind. “I’m thinking it’s time to get out of here.”

I smile, taking Gavin’s hand off my stomach and spinning around.

“I don’t know if we can,” I state. “We’ve both been drinking.”

Keeping hold of his hand, I lead him to the counter, hearing “This Is the Time” by Nothing More traveling up through the open basement door.

“Madoc will let us use a room. We can just crash here tonight.”

My heartbeat throbs in my ears, but I don’t say anything. Use a room?

Gavin and I have been seeing each other for about two months, and there is no doubt that we get along. We are both pre-med, in the same academic fraternity, and he gets along with Madoc, although they’re not close.

Jax, on the other hand, will still have nothing to do with him.

My father has also had trouble warming to him, and I know why. His relationship with Jared is close, and it’s hard to move on. I understand that.

But I’m trying to move forward. Gavin is fun and smart, and when I’m with him, I don’t think about Jared.

It’s the only time I don’t think about him.

I’m trying to find some semblance of happiness again, but instead of getting easier, it’s getting harder.

Every day it’s more and more apparent that I don’t love him, and it’s bothering me.

Lots of people have sex without love, but I’ve realized one thing. It’s different. It’s not as good.

“I’m sure we could find a room to sleep,” I say quietly, giving him a small smile.

He looks at me. “Don’t you have a room here?” he asks. “I thought I heard Madoc mention it once.”

I stall, trying to figure out how to answer as I dump out my drink and fill my cup with water.

“I do.” I nod. “But—”

Then I jerk, seeing some guys crash into the kitchen, coming from downstairs and yelling as they filter down the hallway.

“But?” he presses.

I look back at him, distracted by the noise.

“Hey!” someone shouts. “Check out this video of Trent!”

I blink, dropping my cup in the sink.

Ignoring Gavin, I round the corner and go to where the guys are sitting in the living room crowded around an iPad. Peering over someone’s shoulder, I watch footage of Jared—uploaded today, by the looks of it—speeding around a track filled with sharp twists and turns, and even though I can’t see his face behind his helmet, I know it’s him. I’d know his body anywhere.

I lose my breath watching him as I allow myself a small smile.

God, he’s beautiful. The way he leans and steers the bike, in perfect control.

And he’s doing it.

He’s doing what he wants to do and living how he wants to live. I watch, and no matter how much I still hurt, I’m so proud of him.

I feel Gavin at my back, but I don’t look. The footage on the YouTube video switches to a commentator, and my stomach knots, seeing Jared in the background.

He’s signing autographs for some kids as a few race girls—the ones who work the crowd in their sexy outfits—climb onto the bus behind him. Another teammate clutches Jared’s shoulders behind him and whispers into his ear before they both start smiling as if sharing a private joke.

The guy then pushes Jared toward the same bus as the girls and follows him up the steps, the door closing.

“Man, that’s the life,” a guy off to my right comments.

I back away and try to keep an even-keeled expression, even though my heart feels like it’s splintering.

Gavin follows me upstairs, and I don’t know why, but I take him straight to Jared’s and my room.

I need to do this. I don’t want Jared anymore. I don’t want the pain. I don’t want to take a chance that I’ll ever be his and go through this again.

Months of heartache, months of trying to move on, and it still feels like he’s everywhere.

I’ve made love to Gavin, and now I can make love to him in Jared’s and my bed, and I will have crossed a boundary from which there’s no return. It will kill everything inside of me.

Gavin starts kissing my neck, and a tear falls down my face. My skin feels like it’s covered in mud, feeling dirtier the more he touches. I don’t want this.

I shouldn’t do this.

But I close my eyes and lean my head to the side, inviting him in anyway.

His hands cup my breasts, rubbing them in circles over my shirt as he takes my mouth.

He dips a hand inside my jeans, and I suck in a breath. I clench my thighs to keep him at bay, but I don’t know what I want.

Gavin makes Jared go away. Gavin always makes me forget. I can do this.

But I still shake my head.

Every second of this makes me feel worse, and I don’t want to use Gavin. To make what we’re doing dirty, just so I can feel better.

Jared’s voice pours into my head. “You’ve been turning my world upside down for eight years. I can’t get enough of you.”

I gasp, choking on tears as I push Gavin away and cover my face with my hands.

“Tate, what’s wrong?” He sounds worried.

I shake my head and collapse against the wall next to the bathroom, sliding down to the floor. “You have to go,” I cry softly. “I’m so sorry, but you have to sleep somewhere else tonight.”

He approaches. “Baby, we can sleep somewhere else. What did I do?”

I shake my head again. “Please just leave.”

This is Jared’s and my room. No one else’s. “Please leave,” I cry louder.

“Tate,” he presses.

“Now!” I shout. “Just leave me alone.”

I put my head down on my knees and cry. I don’t know why I feel guilty. I’d only ever had sex with Jared until Gavin came along. I don’t sleep around, and Jared drowned his sadness and pain in plenty of girls before me.

Why couldn’t it make me feel better, too?

I cry for a long time, still hearing the music going strong downstairs and not knowing if Gavin left, went back to the party, or found another room.

A hand touches mine, and I shoot my head up, seeing Madoc kneeling down on one knee.

My face cracks, and I can’t hold it back. “Why can’t I forget him?” I sob.

He closes his eyes, running a weary hand through his hair, looking about ready to cry himself.

Instead he pulls me in and hugs me, letting me release it all.

“When Fallon was sent away,” he starts, choking on his own tears, “I tried to get lost in so many other women.” I heard him swallow hard. “But it never helped for longer than a day, and I always felt worse later.”

I look up at Madoc. “It’s been months. Jared’s probably moved on, but I don’t want anyone else.” I’m sobbing, wiping away my tears only to feel more come to take their place. “It hurts. Everything hurts. I almost cut down our tree last fall, Madoc. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get over it?”

He lifts my chin, tears pooling in his blue eyes. “Do you want to get over it?” he asks.

I narrow my eyes. “Of course I do.”

He cocks his head. “I think you still love him, Tate, and I think you know deep down, he’s going to be back for you.”

I sniffle, dropping my eyes. “I can’t trust him. Too much has happened.” The tears spill over my lips. “Gavin’s a good guy. I need to try to move on.”

He nudges my chin, urging my eyes back up to his. “You’re forcing it,” he insists. “Do you remember senior year? You were stronger when you stood on your own, Tate.”

Madoc was right.

The next day, I broke off my brief relationship with Gavin and joined my dad and Jax in working on my car, and that spring, I started racing.

It wasn’t until recently—more than a year after that talk with Madoc—that I started seeing Ben, taking it slow but testing out the waters for the first time in a long time.

I sat in my G8, the cool black interior and tinted windows encasing me in my own private world as Limp Bizkit’s “My Way” droned through the speakers. The crowds milled around outside, already tipping their drinks as they stumbled around the track, and I held back my little grin, not for once feeling bad that I never joined in. Ben wanted me to. He craved the happy girlfriend who could ease in and out of social situations without complication.

After all, if I was determined to race, why not enjoy the atmosphere and the hype?

But Ben was far too late to make an impression on my personality. I learned back in high school that I was who I was, and I slept a lot better at night when I didn’t make apologies for that.

I didn’t need them, and I didn’t even need the win.

I just need this,
I thought as I gripped the wheel and the stick. The blood in my arms felt like it was dancing under my skin, and I was ready.

Yes
, Madoc was right.

I was stronger when I stood on my own. And when Jax encouraged me to take up some racing at the Loop, I’d found there was one thing that I did by myself—one thing I owned—that put strength in my veins.

There was no guilt, no pressure—just silence. And I would keep that going when Jared showed up tonight.

Which he would.

I hated to admit it, but he’d put a nice little rush in my blood today. And it wasn’t just because of how good he’d looked. Beautiful ink covered more of his arms than it had two years ago, but he still had the same smooth, toned chest that now looked even more incredible, tanned by the West Coast sun.

And of course, all it took was a look for him to get under my skin.

At ten years old, Jared was my friend. At fourteen, my enemy; at eighteen, my lover; and at twenty, my heartbreak. I’d known him more than half my life, and although the roles had changed, his impact was always all consuming.

Always.

I leaned over, digging my mom’s
Leaves of Grass
out of my backpack. Tossing the pack into the backseat, out of the way, I opened the paperback, pressing my thumb over the edges of the pages as I fanned them, the soft breeze of the flutter wafting across my face.

Finding page sixty-four, I headed straight for the lines my mother had underlined on verse twenty of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself.”

I whispered, holding the book close to me. “I exist as I am, that is enough.”

There were many lines underlined and many poems dog-eared in this old paperback, but I always came back to the ones my mother did herself. Maybe she marked them for herself, or maybe she knew I would need them, but they were always right there being the voice for me she couldn’t be anymore. Even though she died of cancer more than ten years ago, I never stopped needing her. So I carried the book everywhere.

Leaning in, I pressed my nose into the crease and inhaled the scent of old paper as my eyes fell closed.

“Dude,” I heard Madoc’s voice. “Kinky.”

I opened my eyes, letting out an aggravated sigh at his big head sticking through my driver’s side window.

You would think Madoc was my boyfriend, as much as he hovered, but it was useless to try to get away from it. He’d texted three times to make sure I was showing up tonight. I’d never missed a race, but I knew exactly why he thought I might duck out. The moron thought I had no self-respect.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I warned, tossing the book into the glove compartment—which I always did for good luck—and then climbing out of the car.

“Okay.” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his gray cargo shorts. “But if I see you sleeping with your books, I’m staging an intervention.” He jerked his chin to the backseat, littered with all of my texts for school.

I shot him a look and walked around the back of my car to attach the GoPro Jax had given me. “I got behind on my summer reading because of my shifts at the hospital,” I explained, bending down to affix the camera, “and I want to get through these footnotes by the time school starts.”

“You’re reading the books in the footnotes?” He looked at me like I was wearing head-to-toe orange.

I stood up, placing my hands on my hips. “Considering you’re studying to be a lawyer, it might be a good idea for you to dive deeper into your reading lists as well.”

He went wide-eyed. “We have reading lists?”

My eyes rounded, but then he laughed, clearly joking. At least I hoped he was joking. “Well, you’re not going into surgery tomorrow,” he argued. “So take a breath already.”

“I can’t.” I brushed him off, walking back to my door. “I’m just—”

“Worried you’ll start thinking about him?” he finished, and I halted.

I let out a sigh, gritting my teeth. “Not now, okay? Don’t you have better things to do? Like your mission to start a soccer team in the Caruthers household as soon as college ended?”

But he ignored me. Before I knew what was happening, Madoc darted into my backseat and started gathering my books and backpack.

“Madoc,” I scolded, trying to grab my shit. “Give me my books.”

He jerked away from me. “I’ve got them.”

“Now!” I whisper-yelled.

“Not tonight.” He smiled, shaking his head.

“Why not tonight?” I inquired as if I didn’t know where this was going.

But then a husky voice roared over the loudspeaker, and Madoc and I looked up.

“Tate!” My name echoed across the track. “Are you here?”