Tangled (38 page)

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Authors: Em Wolf

BOOK: Tangled
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“How long
d’ye
want it to?”

Tess pushed her hair off her face, feeling
uncomfortably warmth of the whiskey coating her stomach. “I don’t know.”

“Stop
thinkin

so hard, lass. Go with the flow and see where it takes ye. No point in
worryin

y’head
off.”

“Maybe.”

“Trust him. Despite me earlier assumptions,
he’s no’ a bad guy.
A bit of a gobshite, but he’s mad about
ye, Tess.
Ye walk into a room and he may as well be blind, deaf, and
dumb to the rest of the world. I haven’t seen him so much as look at another
girl since ye got together. Don’ let insecurities sabotage
somethin

good.”

The word triggered a memory. Her mother
had said the same thing. Was she self-sabotaging?

“Look, don’ get bogged down by what-ifs
and what-happens-when. For now, have faith and treasure the
feelin
’.
Que
sera, sera,” he dipped a hand dramatically.

The tightness in her chest let up. He was
right. She needed to sit back and enjoy the ride instead of fretting about its
end. Adonis had never given her reason to believe that he would cheat on her.
Yes, a Yankee Candle had more longevity than his previous relationships, but
that was the past. Tess doubted he made sure his old girlfriends ate a
nutritious meal or always ensured they got home safely after work.

“You should consider becoming a motivational
speaker,” she grinned.

He lifted his his cup in cheers and
frowned when he discovered it empty. “
Oy
, enough with
the mushy talk. Let’s have a game.”

Tess propped a brow. “Don’t you think
you’ve had enough to drink tonight?”

“No such thing.”

Ten shots and several games of
McNickels
later, Tess crawled up the steps to Adonis’s
room. She haphazardly stripped down and wormed her way beneath the covers next
to him.
 

“Tess,” he murmured heavily, his arms
automatically falling around her midsection and tugging her into his
furnace-hot chest. “You smell like whiskey,” he mumbled.

“I was
thirsty.”

He
brushed a kiss across her shoulder. “You should’ve invited me.”

“Mm-k.
Next time.” Her sleep-leaden eyes shut as her consciousness dropped off the
grid. “I love you,” she murmured drowsily, missing the contraction that jerked
through the muscles at her back.

 
 
 
 

Chapter 22

 
 

The
scent of red cedars and fire embers stirred Tess to consciousness.

She mushed
her face further into the pillow and smiled.

Adonis’s
scent.

Her
arm snaked between the sheets. She frowned when her hand reached the cold patch
of space. She couldn’t even feel a recently vacated indention. Did he even
sleep in the bed last night?

God,
she couldn’t remember. She did, however, recall trying to outdrink Riley. Even
after a full night of drinking, the Irishman had drunk her under the table. A
mistake she wasn’t liable to make again.

Tess
tentatively sat up and waited with resigned acceptance for the hangover’s heavy
backhand.

It
never came.

Her
breath smelled like the wrong end of a skunk, yes. But other than that, and a
mild, almost forgettable, headache, she didn’t feel too bad. It was either the
miracle of miracles or she drew staggeringly close to crossing the threshold of
alcoholism.

She applied
soothing pressure to her temples.

One
problem at a time.

Tess
scooted off the bed and dug through her bag for a change of clothes.

Fifteen
minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom freshly washed and mouth successfully
decontaminated. The smell of coffee beckoned.

She
bounced down the stairs, her steps lights and her heart lighter.

Her
smile faltered when she saw Riley spooning sugar into his mug at the counter.

“How’re
you still alive?” She swung up to him and planted a fat, juicy kiss on his
stubble-roughened cheek.

“It’s
in the genes,” he said cheekily.

“Mm,
I’m sure. Have you seen Adonis?” He didn’t have class on Thursdays.

“Aye,
he was down here earlier and had to go out for a bit. Made me promise to keep
an eye out for you.” He slanted her a sideways glance. “You all right?”

“Right
as rain.” She covered disappointment with a beaming grin. “What’s for
breakfast?”

“We’ve
got a half-eaten Pop Tart and a dehydrated taco.”

“You
know what? I could stand to lose a pound or two.” She checked the time.
“Actually I should go. I have class in a few.”

“I’d
say don’t be a stranger, but you’ve practically moved in,” he teased.

“I
know, but my room’s so quiet without…” Tess trailed off awkwardly.


Jade’ll
come ‘round eventually,” he said gruffly.

“I hope
so. But I’ve made my bed and now I’ll have to lie in it.” She wrapped her arms
around his middle. “Catch you later.”

“Oh,
before you go Lance wanted me to pass on the word about a theme party his
frat’s hosting Saturday.”

“What
theme?”

“Seven
deadly sins.”

Tess
rolled her eyes. “There goes the death of originality.”
 

Riley
watched her carefully. “Cam will be there.”

She
felt one of her organs loop into a hard knot. “It’s ok. We’re good.” If not
speaking or making eye contact qualified as good.

“Either
way, I’ve always got you’re back.” He ruffled her hair. “And so does Adonis.”

Butterflies
spun in double helixes within her.

“Yeah,”
she said softly. “He does.”

____________________

 

By
the time Tess reached her dorm she’d already formulated a plan of action. Adonis
was right. She needed to stop taking a backseat to her guilt. Hoping her best
friend would come around and eventually forgive her wasn’t going to work. Not
in this case.

It
was time to step her game.

According
to Lance, Jade would be studying in the library after her three o’clock class. It
was the perfect place to stage an ambush. Jade would be too polite to cause a
scene, not that it would be a major issue considering it wouldn’t be too packed.
It was still earlier enough in the semester that studying came as an
afterthought.

Tess
only had half of her attention to spare her English class, her eyes pasted to
the ancient black hands of the analog clock above the whiteboard. When class
dismissed, Tess slung her messenger back over her shoulder and made a break for
the door.

It
didn’t take long for her to track the Jade down.

Like
any caffeine addict, she’d taken refuge at a table near the library’s snack
bar.

Tess
settled down across from her and dropped her bag on the table with a clamorous
thunk
.

Jade
jolted up, her surprise rapidly seguing into guarded remoteness. “What’re you
doing?”

“Trying
to study, obviously.” Tess pulled out her
notebook,
most
of its pages woefully blank. “You don’t mind if I sit here, right?”

“Yes,
I mind.”

“I
didn’t think so.”

Tess
hunched over the poetry assignment she’d sloppily copied before hauling ass out
the class. The edge of her mouth picked up. Hauling ass out of class.
A stroke of fucking genius.
She uncapped her pen and hastily
scribbled the words down before she forgot.

“What
rhymes with cat?”

“Scat,”
Jade deadpanned. “Can’t you do this somewhere else? There are a thousand other
tables.”

“Yeah,
but I like the sun to shade ratio here. And the snack bar is like right there.
Speaking of…” She fished her wallet out of the bag’s side compartment. “I want a
cappuccino. You want the usual?”

“Sure,”
she said noncommittally.

“Be
right back.” Tess got up to place their orders. When the barista apologetically
imparted that they were all out of hazelnut lattes, she turned to tell Jade.
 

The
girl was gone. So were her things.

“That
sneaky bitch. No, not you,” she clarified exasperatedly at the barista’s
wounded expression. “I was talking to—never mind.”

Tess
swooped up her things and flew out of the library, ignoring the disapproving
stares of the academically inclined.

Her
eyes darted across the quad until she spotted Jade crossing westernmost side
street. Hitching the messenger bag over head, she gave chase. “J, wait!”

Jade
ignored her and added a few knots to her breakneck stride.

Tess
seized her arm. “Can you just hear me out for two seconds.”

“Fine.
Two seconds,” she said briskly.

“I
grew up poor,” she blurted, uncaring that having this conversation out in the street
was probably less than ideal. “I never met my father. He abandoned my mother
when she was pregnant with my little brother. We lived on welfare for years
until my mom got a job as a janitor. She married into money when I was sixteen
and moved my brother, Tony, and I to Manhattan. I don’t talk about it because I
was ashamed. I spent my junior and senior years of high school known as the
charity case. I wanted a fresh start here.

“I’m
sorry. I know I’ve been a shit friend. I shouldn’t have kept you in the dark.
You’re my friend and I should’ve trusted you. And I’m especially sorry about
your grandfather. I should’ve been there and I wasn’t. There’s no excuse for
it. I love you. You’re my best friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Jade
blinked as she made sense of the data dump of information. Finally, she sighed
and glanced away, her features wan. “Tess-”

“No,”
Tess interrupted, afraid of losing her, “and if it makes you feel better you
can punch me.”

“What?”

She
widened her stance. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“What
is this, Fight Club?”

“Just
do it.”

She huffed
her exasperation. “Shut up. I’m not punching you in the face. Although I might
trip you when you’re not looking.”
 

Tess
tendered a weak smile. “So, are we ok?”

Jade
chewed her lip. “Yeah, I guess.
Just—no more secrets,
ok?
You don’t have to hide anything from me. I’m your friend. It doesn’t
matter where you came from. What matters is that you’re here. Got me.”

“Gotten.
Now want to get coffee? For real this time?”

The
corner of her mouth drew up. “Sounds good.”

 

_________________

 

Excitement
vibrated in her bones as Tess sped-walked to the boys’ house.

Hanging
out for the first time since their falling out had been slow going at first. But
she’d known exactly how to coax a response out of her stiff-lipped friend. When
she brought up the theme party, a bulb lit behind her eyes. In no time, ideas
began spilling from her mouth faster than Tess could keep up.

When
all else failed, fashion was always a safe topic.

Grinning,
she kicked up her pace a notch.

She
found Adonis perched on the ugly, overstuffed couch writing in a spiral-bound
notebook. In front of him, textbooks and notes cluttered the coffee table. The
room seemed smaller without giant television looming on the opposite wall.
Cameron had made sure to remove all of his personal effects before absconding
to the dark side.

Tess
dropped next to him. “Are you actually doing homework?”

He
didn’t look up. “Contrary to what people
think
, I do take
classes here.”

“I
didn’t know art majors had written homework,” she nudged him with her knee.

“I’m
not an art major.”

Frowning,
she picked up one of the texts and read the front cover. “Business
administration?” She supposed it made sense if he chose to become an active
participant in his grandfather’s company. It was his birthright. “Are you going
for your MBA after you graduate?”

“Probably.”

Used
to his capricious moods, Tess tried to keep her spirits buoyed. “Guess what? I
took your advice and straightened things out with Jade. We’re good now. She
wants us to go on a double date tonight with her and Lance. You up for it?”

The
pen paused for a second before resuming course. “Can’t. I’ve got a shit ton of homework
to do.”

Feminine
instinct told her this had nothing to do with cyclothymia. “What’s wrong?”

He
made an impatient sound. “Nothing. Am I not allowed to be busy?”

Her
eyes fell to the notebook. “Is that why you’ve written the same word six
times?”

The
muscle in his jaw flexed. “Well, if my girlfriend would stop talking my fucking
ear off maybe I could get something accomplished.” He paled as the statement
caught up with him.

A
creeping chill negated the tide of heat her newly dubbed moniker usually
bequeathed. “Adonis-”

“I
need a smoke.” He leapt up as if the flames of hell were licking his ass.

She
struggled to ward off fear’s frigid grip. He wouldn’t have dropped the
girlfriend bomb if he wanted to break up. An uncomfortable thought occurred to
her. Was he still upset about her prickly demeanor yesterday?

Stomach
in knots, she followed him to the deck. The sun idled over the lip of the horizon,
swathing the sky in soft peaches and warm lavenders.

Tess
wrapped her arms around herself. The temperature was a few degrees below nippy,
but nothing she couldn’t tolerate for a short time. At least while the sun
still had a few rays to throw her way.

“Is
this about last night?” The question lingered in a pellucid cloud of frozen air
before dissipating.

“What
makes you think it has anything to do with that?” He didn’t face her.

“At
least look at me when you ask me a question,” she snapped, tired of this
awkward shuffle of an exchange.

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