Tessa Ever After (15 page)

tessa

When I was younger, I had a crush on Jason. How could I not? He was everything my gangly, preteen self wanted in a boyfriend. He was older and more experienced. He was funny and ridiculously hot and knew how to have a good time. Unfortunately, he saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s younger, annoying sister.

But still, I was a tenacious little thing, even then, and I harbored the completely unrealistic fantasy that one day soon he’d come around. He’d realize we were meant to be and he’d come to my room one night when he was hanging out with Cade and he’d kiss me. And then we’d live happily ever after.

It’s hard to believe I was ever that girl . . . the one who was so innocent and naive. The one who pined for nothing but a kiss.

That all changed my freshman year of high school when we were all in the same school again. I was forced to watch Jason day in and day out show off a different girl on his arm. I’d see him in
the halls, pressing some faceless blonde or brunette or redhead—he never was discriminatory—against the lockers, hands and lips everywhere they could get away with, and I was devastated. Absolutely heartbroken—or as heartbroken as a fourteen-year-old could be when finding out her crush was unrequited.

And then I moved on.

I set my sights on other guys, cultivated crushes, and then, eventually, found my first boyfriend and got my first kiss. I forgot about Jason and his girl of the day and never looked back.

But even if I forgot about it on the surface, it’s never really gone away, because here I am, lying in my bed completely sated from none other than the man himself, and all I can think about is the fact that he’s probably done that with a hundred other girls. Hell, he probably did that with one yesterday. And the thought sends my stomach twisting, my heart racing, my mouth going dry.

I don’t want to be just one girl in a long line of too many to count.

Somehow he went from the guy I didn’t want to the guy I wanted above all others, and that thought scares the shit out of me, especially having been a front-row observer of Jason’s past indiscretions.

When he left, he seemed fine. He was all smiles and soft words, telling me he’d call me tomorrow, but for all I know he tells that to all his conquests.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand, yanking me out of my thoughts, and I’m equal parts relieved and disappointed to see Paige’s name instead of the guy I was thinking about.

“Hey.”

“Damn, I was hoping you weren’t going to answer.”

I huff out a laugh. “Why?”

“Because I would hope you wouldn’t answer the phone if you were being fucked good and proper.”

“God, Paige.”

“What? That was the goal of tonight, wasn’t it? Date three? God knows you didn’t get your vag waxed for
me
.”

And though I didn’t have sex tonight, someone else at least got to feel the benefit of it. Just the thought of Jason running his thumb over me has me tingling all over again.

“Holy shit. You
did
have sex!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Please, you not saying anything said more than if you’d said anything at all.”

“What does that even mean?”

Ignoring my question, she barrels on, “But, hell, it’s only ten and you’re already home, so that means he was a two-pump chump, huh?”

“I swear to God, I don’t understand how your brain works.”

“But you love me anyway.”

“Most of the time.”

“So fill me in. Give me the details. Did he at least have a horse cock to make up for his other shortcomings?”

“Oh my God. What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hoping my best friend gets some solid action.”

“I’m not sure I’d want to screw someone who has a horse cock, to be perfectly honest.
Ouch.
And stop talking about sex! I didn’t have any.”

“Well you had some something. I can tell.”

“Oh, get off it. You can’t tell anything over the phone.”

“I absolutely can. You’re all . . . jittery-sounding. Nervous. And that’s exactly how you’d be after sex, because for some unknown reason, you don’t think you should be having it.”

I exhale an exhausted breath. She is going to go round and round in circles until I spill. “I didn’t have sex, okay? I just . . . did something else.”

“Ohhhh, I can work with something else. Did this something else involve a tongue by any chance?”

“No, no tongues.”

“Fingers, then.”

“Mmm . . . not exactly.”

“Jesus, Tess, do we need to play twenty fucking questions or are you just going to tell me what the hell happened?”

I could avoid her question, refuse to answer, but the truth is, I need to talk this out with someone. I stare at the ceiling and blow out a breath before the words rush out of me. “Jason dry humped me against the wall.”

“Say what now?”

“Oh God. It’s bad, right? It’s so bad. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I
did
that. God, I can’t believe I let
him
do that to me. And right after I got home from a date
with another man
. What kind of person does this make me? I mean, at least it wasn’t sex, though, right? I told him that right away—no sex. But that doesn’t really make it any better, does it? He’s still the same kind of guy he’s always been, the same one I’ve always known him to be. And even knowing that, I let him hold me up against the wall and grind all up on me until I came. Oh
God
.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, and when I don’t say anything more, she asks, “You done with your word vomit now?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, first things first. Was it good?”

I think about how it felt being in his arms. The length of his torso against mine, the bunch of his muscles under my fingers. How I wanted to reach under his shirt and feel his skin against my fingertips. I think about his breath on my neck and my chest and against my lips and in my mouth. How it felt when he pressed against me, how hard he was, how easily I came when he just slipped his thumb under my panties and applied the faintest pressure.

“It was amazing.”

“Well, at least you can admit that. This might not be as hard as I thought.”

“What might not be?”

“Me convincing you to give this a go with him.”

“Give
what
a go with him? This is Jason we’re talking about. Jason, who was banned from that coffee shop on Center Avenue because he got caught screwing some girl in the bathroom. This isn’t Greg, who was actively seeking someone to get serious with. Jason actively seeks ways
not
to get serious with someone.”

“Yeah, but it’s
you
.”

And I want
so badly
to believe the words she’s saying. But I just can’t. “That’s not going to matter, Paige.”

“What did he say before he left?”

I blow out a breath, remembering his words, the expression on his face, and for one minute, a tiny part of me harbors the hope that maybe Paige isn’t completely full of shit. “That he’d call me tomorrow.”

“Well, then, I’ll guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow.”

jason

I’m not even home before the guilt kicks in, settling like a lead weight in my stomach. Guilt is the last thing I want to feel right now, especially considering I left a blissed-out Tess at home. And though there probably should’ve been awkward conversation or uncomfortable silence following our make-out session, there was neither. She was breathless and all smiles, and I left her with a kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow.

So then if everything was fine when I left, why is this feeling creeping in my gut? I know I didn’t take advantage of her. I gave her plenty of times to say no, to stop it, and I know she wanted it as bad as I did, but still, that nagging sense that I did something wrong is eating me alive.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what it is, though. That unwavering sense of loyalty to my best friend is the reason. Just a couple weeks ago, he told me to stay away from her, and instead of listening to him, instead of backing off like I know I should’ve, I pushed her up against a wall and made her come. Something her brother would have my balls for.

The drive home is quick, and I pull into my parking space before heading into my apartment building. Once inside, I toss my keys on the kitchen counter and throw my coat over a chair. Knowing I need to unwind before I’ll ever be able to sleep, I grab a beer from the fridge and relax on the couch.

My phone rings just after I’ve turned on the TV, and for one second, I think it might be Tess, calling to say what a mistake it was. I don’t want to admit what the thought of her saying that does to my chest.

The display on my phone shows the last person I want to talk
to now—the very person I feel like I betrayed. Groaning, I drop my head to the back of the couch and close my eyes. I don’t need Cade’s warnings or his overprotective bullshit right now, but I know if I don’t answer, he’ll probably call Tess, and I don’t want her to have to field his calls now. I don’t want her second-guessing what happened between us any more than she already may be.

Knowing I have little choice, I answer, “Hello.”

“Hey, man, what’s going on?”

“Not much. Just got home.”

“What is it, ten there? Early night for you.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Slim pickings at the bar?”

Though his tone isn’t accusatory or mean, I still bristle at his comment but clench my jaw to keep myself composed. It’s not his fault he still thinks of me as the guy who’d go home with one girl Friday night and a different one Saturday. It’s not his fault he hasn’t been around to see how different Tess is for me.

When I think I can speak without betraying how much his comment got to me, I say, “Actually, I didn’t go out tonight. I was at Tessa’s.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and I want to bang my head on the nearest hard surface for telling him that in the first place. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut.

“Tessa’s, huh?” He clears his throat, and though I know he’s aiming for nonchalance, his voice is strained when he asks, “What were you doing there?”

It’s probably not the best idea to tell him that I made his sister come against a wall, so instead I give him a tiny piece of the truth. “I was watching Haley for her. She had a date.”

Those four little words bring back images of that guy with
his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the house . . . away from me . . . and it’s like a punch in the gut. While I feel like an ass about what we did, I sure as fuck don’t want to see her out with other guys.

He blows out a breath, and I can practically hear his relief over the phone. “Oh yeah? This the dentist still?”

“Orthodontist.”

“That’s right. You meet him yet?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And . . .” I sigh heavily, taking another drink of my beer. “I don’t know, man. He’s boring as fuck. And he’s too old for her.”

“How old’s too old?”

“I’d guess at least thirty.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, and even though I know I shouldn’t lead Cade to believe Tessa’s still seeing that guy, I can’t pass up this chance to get him off my ass about her. “You’re keeping an eye on her, though, right?”

I huff out a laugh. “Fuck, Cade, make up your damn mind. Last time you called, you told me to stay the fuck away from her. Now you want to make sure I’m watching her. Which is it?”

“I want you to look after her—I just want you to keep your dick in your pants while you do it.”

“Look, man, she’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. And if that’s dating a thirty-year-old dude, or getting mixed up with someone you might not approve of, that’s her choice. And I’m not going to let you monitor her through me. I’ll make sure things are going okay for her, help her when her car breaks down, watch Haley when she’s in a pinch, but if you want
to find out what she’s doing in her love life, ask her. Stop running interference through me.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute. When he finally does, he surprises me. “You’re right. I know I shouldn’t do that, but it’s hard as hell being so far away when she’s going on these dates with these assholes she meets online. Who the fuck knows who they are? They could be creeps or psychos, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not used to not being able to keep an eye on the guys she gets mixed up with.”

“Give your sister a little credit. She’s not an idiot. It’s not like she gets a message online and the very next day meets them in the woods somewhere. You just have to trust her to know what she’s doing.” While it fits for what we’re talking about, I want to have it encompass so much more—I want to have it pertain to
us
, too
 . . .
to me and Tessa.

“Yeah. I do. I trust her.” Someone says something to Cade—the voice low and feminine—and then Cade laughs. “Winter says I need to leave Tess alone and start talking about something else.”

“I always knew she was smart.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, she is. So what’s new with you? How’re classes going? You gonna finally graduate this year?”

The last time we talked, I was so pissed at him for telling me to stay away from Tess I never filled him in on the ultimatum my parents gave me. “Yeah, looks like.”

“No shit? Finally declared a major, huh? What brought that on?”

“Well, when your parents tell you you’re going to be cut off if you don’t get your shit together, that sort of lights a fire under your ass.”

“They said that?”

“Yep. They hit me with it a couple weeks ago at dinner. I start going for my master’s in January while I’m shadowing my dad at the firm, or I’m booted from the family.”

“Jesus, those were their terms?”

“Well, I added the booted-from-the-family part, but they didn’t have to say that to make it true. You know how they are. Only the best or get the fuck out. Can you imagine how it would look at the club to have a son doing something other than wearing a suit five days a week and golfing every chance he gets?”