Out of Her League (Love & Other Disasters Book 2) Page 9

  It’s how I feel when I’m inside her. That it’s not just sex, but that we’re connected, and she’s with me one hundred percent. I experience a strange tightness in my throat that threatens to choke me.

  “I would love to, sweet girl.” Nana’s face softens, and it occurs to me how much it costs her never to speak of my father. Her only child that she’s lived without for so many years. She sighs. “It’s hard to choose a favorite.”

  “I’m sure,” Tessa says, nodding, her complete focus on my grandmother.

  “One of my favorites was when he was a teenager. When you have kids, they do these things, and as a parent you have to scold them something fierce, but in the privacy of your marriage, you laugh hysterically at their sheer audacity. Once, Daniel was infatuated with a girl, and decided he needed to go to her house and make a grand romantic gesture in the middle of the night. So he fashioned my best bed sheets into a rope, climbed onto the roof, tied the sheets to the chimney and tried to shimmy down the side of the house to make his escape. Of course, being a teenager, he didn’t think it through and his feet kept banging along the side of the house, including our bedroom window. My husband was waiting for him when he hit the ground.”

  I smile, it’s a story I’ve heard before, but watching Tessa makes it brand new. Her face lights up with amusement, radiating from her skin and casting her in a glow.

  Nana laughs, waving a hand. “We grounded him, of course, and made a big fuss about it, but when we closed our bedroom door we had a good laugh, remembering our own young love.”

  “Do you have a picture?” Tessa asks, putting her drink down on the coffee table separating us. “I’d love to see him.”

  Nana stands up, and walks over to a table filled with photographs. She picks two of them up and comes back to us, handing one to Tessa. “This was him when he was just starting college.”

  Tessa’s fingers skim over the frame, a picture of my dad, sitting on the porch steps, smiling and happy. She turns to look at me. “You look just like him.”

  I nod. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says.”

  “Both Xavier and my son take after my husband,” she says, before taking a drink. “Little carbon copies of each other.”

  Tessa’s lips curve. “He’s very handsome.”

  I can’t help it, I curl and arm around her and kiss her temple.

  My grandmother couldn’t look more pleased. She picks up the other picture and hands it over to Tessa. “This is perhaps my favorite picture of Xavier and his father.”

  I look down at the picture, already knowing which one it is. You can’t see my father’s face, only strong arms and a broad back and the hint of a profile. He’s throwing me high in the air when I’m probably two years old. The sun is shining, bright, and we’re both wearing white shirts. My legs and arms are spread wide and my face is filled with unadulterated joy.

  Whenever I’d looked at the picture in the past, I’d always thought I couldn’t remember when I’d felt that kind of happiness. But as I look at it today, my heart gives a hard thump. I glance at Tessa.

  She makes me feel that kind of happiness.

  I frown as a rush of loss races across my skin, followed quickly by panic.

  She can break me. If I let her, she’ll tear down every wall I’ve ever resurrected to insulate myself. She’ll make me care. Love.

  The second the word rips through my mind, the panic escalates and I ease back from her. Where she’d been pressed against my side leaves me cold. Empty.

  I know what I need to do. I need to end it, before anyone gets hurts.

  Before too much damage has been done.

  Before it’s too late.

  Chapter Nine

  Tessa

  I don’t know what’s changed, but something has, because Xavier has been silent for most of the night. Over dinner, as his nana and I chatted, he’d become more and more brooding. Answering questions with the least amount of words possible and contributing nothing to the conversation.

  On the ride home, the car had been filled with a thick, heavy tension, I’d thought about saying nothing. After all, we weren’t in a relationship. He’d made no promises to me. I had no right to demand he tell me what happened.

  Because something had happened. One second we’d been sitting close and he’d been smiling down at me, and the next, he was filled with a remote coldness.

  So, yeah, I thought about ignoring his bad mood, but then I decided to fuck that.

  Because he did owe me something. He owed me common courtesy and respect. In the beginning maybe expecting nothing had been true, but it wasn’t true now.

  We were in a relationship.

  We slept together, we ate together, and we talked together. I saw him almost every day, and if I didn’t see him, we texted, I heard his voice. He called me to ask what I wanted to do for dinner, or if I wanted to catch a movie.

  Spoken or not, that’s what a relationship was.

  And I was tired of pretending it wasn’t.

  I got to make demands. Because I want to. Because I deserve it.

  We walked into my apartment and as soon as the door was closed, I turn toward him, dropping my purse on the floor with a thud. Ripping off my coat, I yell, “What was that?”

  His eyes widen, as though he’s surprised, but then narrow. By the hard set of his jaw, I can tell he’s looking for a fight. He wants it. It’s etched in the lines of his face.

  Well good. It’s about damn time.

  I toss my coat to the chair and plant my hands on my hips. “Well? What happened?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing happened.”

  “So you were just rude and unpleasant for sport?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe I was.”

  “You’re a liar.” I stalk over to my small kitchen and take a bottle of water from the fridge. Not because I particularly want it, but for something to do with my hands. “You don’t get to be an ass just because. I deserve an explanation.”

  The words sit between us, and I know there’s no going back.

  Slowly, through gritted teeth he says, “And why do you think you deserve that?”

  And there it is. Out in the open. He expects me to back down, I can see it written in his expression, but I have no intention of doing that. The Tessa that had shown up to that blind date might, but I wasn’t her any longer.

  I know my worth. And my power. I tilt my chin. “Because I’m the woman you sleep with and eat with and do everything else with.”

  Something flashes in his dark eyes, and for a brief second I think I spot pain, but then a cruelty I’ve never seen before washes over his features. “So what?”

  I blink, and for a split second it almost breaks me, almost makes me doubt myself, but I recover quickly. Something in my stomach tightens, strong and sure, and full of resolve.

  I square my shoulders and smirk. “You can pretend all you want, Xavier, it’s not going to work.”

  “What’s not going to work?” His voice is cold and flat. He’s resigned to this, and I’m not going to stop him.

  Because I matter. What I want and what I’m worth matter. He’s not taking that away from me. “This act. Whatever you’re doing. It’s not going to work. I know.”

  “What do you know?” His tone is without inflection.

  I step forward, so we’re close. Close enough to feel the heat of his body. I look him straight in the eye, unflinching and bold. “You care about me. You want me. You need me. I matter to you.”

  The truth in my statement flashes over his face before it’s erased. He shakes his head, and laughs softly. “Tessa, we’re just fucking around. What did you think this was?”

  “You’re not fooling me, Xavier.” I steel my spine. “But if that’s how you want to play it, fine.”

  “What does that mean?” His lips firm into a hard line.

  I take a deep breath and do what needs to be done. I’m strong. I’m not afraid to live life anymore. And this is part of life. It will
suck. Hurt. I will cry as soon as he walks out of this door, but I will also pick myself back up and live. I point at the door. “If you’re not interested in having an honest conversation with me, you need to leave.”

  His shoulders jerk, as though he’s been shocked, and I don’t know, maybe he has been. The fight, his struggle, breaks across his features, but I don’t help him. He’s got to figure it out on his own. “Fine, Tessa.”

  I cross my arms and hit the last nail in the coffin. “Don’t come back, Xavier.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.” He turns and slams out the door.

  Okay then. That’s that.

  First, I cry, then I pick myself back up again and live.

  Xavier

  “What the fuck is the matter with you?” Ted asks, looking at me with narrowed eyes.

  Christopher, Ted, Jace, Shelly and I are sitting at a round bar table at a local watering hole, and I’m getting shitfaced while they all wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

  I shake my head. “Nothing.”

  It’s been a week since I’ve seen Tessa and it’s not going well. I thought it would be easier, being without her. I thought if I’d just stopped seeing her I’d go back to my normal self and I’d forget about her.

  I’d underestimated.

  I underestimated her impact on me.

  The way her smile makes me smile.

  The way her laugh makes me laugh.

  The way she eases the tension after a long day in the trauma unit.

  But mostly, I underestimated my feelings for her.

  Or how I’d miss her so damn much.

  “Nothing?” Christopher says, before taking a drink from his beer bottle.

  It had been a while since the five of us had been together. I’d believed it would be a good idea to get out of my small apartment and be with my best friends out in the world, but I’d been wrong.

  It made it worse.

  Every time Ted slid his arm along the back of Shelly’s chair, or twirled a finger around a lock of her hair, I was reminded of Tessa. Of her warm, soft body wrapped against mine. Not even during sex, but just sitting next to her on the couch.

  Disgusted, I scoff. Who would have thought I’d turn into a cuddler?

  I drink down the rest of my beer, before scanning the crowd, looking for our nonexistent waitress. “I’m good. Where the hell is our waitress?”

  Shelly—cute, tiny Shelly with her larger-than-life personality—stares me down. Suddenly, her expression widens and she points at me. “Oh my god, it’s happened.”

  Everyone turns to look at her.

  Jace tilts his head. He’s the mellowest in our small group, the most relaxed. “What’s happened?”

  “This is about a woman.” Shelly’s voice is sure, knowing.

  My spine stiffens. “No it’s not.”

  “It is,” she says. “I’m a woman, I know these things.”

  It is about a woman. Not a woman, Tessa. How had she wrapped me so tightly around her fingers? I had no idea, but I had to break free.

  Christopher, Jace and Ted all study me.

  Slowly, Christopher nods. “I think you’re right.”

  Jace nods in agreement. “It makes sense why he’s been MIA.”

  “I’ve been busy.” My tone is belligerent and defensive.

  “Uh-huh.” Shelly smirks at me.

  Ted says nothing, just scrubs a hand over his jaw.

  I roll my eyes. “Does anyone see our waitress?”

  Out of the corner of my gaze, I spot a gorgeous redhead, she’s long and lean and exactly my type. She’s staring at me, waiting for me to catch her attention.

  In a split-second decision, I give her what she wants, meeting her eyes.

  She smiles, slow and seductive, before picking up her drink and taking a sip, still watching me over the rim.

  For one brief moment I think about it. Think about getting up and walking over to her, she’s mine if I want her. She puts down her drink and trails one long, slender finger over the neckline of her skimpy top. I could drown myself in her, take her home to her apartment and bury myself inside her until I forget.

  I try and imagine it. To picture it in my head. Only, I find, I can’t.

  I don’t want her.

  I don’t want to sink into her sharp hipbones and probably fake tits. I want Tessa.

  I turn away, returning my attention to the table and my friends who are all silent.

  Abruptly, I stand. “I’m going home.”

  Then, without another word, I get up and walk off.

  I’m halfway down the block before Ted catches me.

  “X, wait.”

  With a sigh I stop, and as calm as I can muster, ask, “What’s up?”

  He frowns. “You want to go talk?”

  “Nothing to talk about.” I shrug. “I’m tired and want to get to bed.”

  His expression doesn’t clear; he just continues to study me. “Look, if you want to talk, we can go to the bar three doors over.”

  I shake my head, ready to say no and stalk off, but at the last minute all my agitated bravado fails. “All right.”

  He nods and in silence we walk to the small place that’s a lot less crowded than the one we just left.

  Once we settle into a small bar table, he points at the bar. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

  He strolls over to the bar and I wonder what the hell I’m doing. I don’t want to talk. Don’t want to do anything but go over to Tessa’s house and apologize for every ugly thing I said to her. Not that I can, I want to, but I can’t.

  As Ted returns with two beers and a couple of shots, I know I’m going to open up and talk to him. Maybe if I get it out of my head, it will clear, and I’ll go back to being sane again. Besides, I can talk to Ted, he’s my best friend, and the only person I can imagine confessing to without him judging me.

  Maybe it will help. I’m desperate and out of options, because it sure as hell isn’t getting any better.

  Ted slides over one of the shots and picks up his own, raising it into the air. We clink the tiny glasses and I down the liquor in one gulp, hissing as it slides down my throat.

  Ted takes a seat and grasps his beer. “So what’s up?”

  I grit my teeth as the words fight for purchase. Confession isn’t usually my thing. I finally manage to unlock my jaw and shrug one shoulder. “Shelly’s right.”

  He nods. “She usually is.”

  “It’s a girl.” The words come out stilted and jerky.

  He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I thought so. Who is she?”

  “Does it matter?” I’m not sure I want to say her name. Not because he knows her, but because I don’t want to make it any more real than it already is.

  “I suppose not. Want to tell me about her?”

  I sigh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  He raises a brow. “Okay.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “For what to happen?” The words are slow, careful. Like if he moves too fast I’ll bolt.

  I think of the beginning. A lifetime ago. “I don’t get involved with women.”

  Ted smiles. “I’m familiar with your MO.”

  I shake my head and guzzle half of the bottled beer, hoping the alcohol will make it easier. “I took her home, as a friend, to help her out, and I don’t know. Somehow I never left.”

  “I see.” Ted tilts his head. “What happened?”

  “I fucked it up.”

  “Maybe you should fix it.”

  It’s a reasonable suggestion, but to what purpose? It doesn’t change anything. “I broke it, and it needs to stay broken.”

  “Why’s that?” He delivers the question in that matter-of-fact way he has, and it gives me pause.

  My brow furrows. “Because it does.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not in the market for a relationship and she’s a relationship kind of girl.” I clear my throat. “A forever kind of girl.”
/>
  Ted nods. “Not your type.”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe your type is changing.”

  I blow out a long breath. “I’m not good for her. I don’t have the staying power.”

  Ted looks beyond me to the window and onto the Chicago streets. “I don’t know. You’ve never given it a shot. Maybe you should try it out.”

  Isn’t it obvious why that’s not possible? “I don’t see why.”

  “Because I’ve never seen you this miserable. So I figure it’s got to mean something.”

  “She deserves someone better than me.”

  “Who does she deserve?”

  “The kind of guy that will come home at five thirty every night and have dinner with her. The kind of guy that will coach little league and get her a puppy for her birthday and send her roses every hour on Valentine’s Day.” I think of Tessa and all her sweet, romantic ways. She needs a guy that will lavish her, indulge both her whimsy and sense of adventure.

  I remember the night I took her out. The thrill on her face as we flew over the city, the sparkle in her eyes as we sipped champagne. Her pure unadulterated joy. The way she gave me her body, completely and without reservation.

  He smiles. “Well, you’re not going to be home at five thirty every night because you’re a trauma surgeon, but you could probably manage the rest.”

  But that’s just the thing, I don’t think I can manage the rest, I have no evidence to support I can manage any of what’s required in an adult relationship. I shrug. “You know me, I don’t stay.”

  “Only because you’ve never wanted to before.” He takes a sip of his beer. “And some things are worth fighting for.”

  “It’s not like it is with you and Shelly.” Ted has stamina, and patience and fortitude. He knows how to stick it out.

  He laughs. “Shelly is a pain in the ass. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be in a relationship with someone that fights you every step of the way?”

  I don’t actually. Tessa isn’t like that. Tessa just… Surrenders. Like melted butter over hot toast. She just oozes into the experience and laps it all up like candy. “So why do you do it? If it’s so hard?”