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We walked into the apartment side-by-side. Silent.
Neither of us had said a word since we got into the car, and I supposed it would stay that way.
All the drama of the night must have taken away our ability to small talk.
It certainlysobered me up a bit…
And clearlythe same could be said for Tate.
He was almost eerily quiet. I could feel the mood-shift radiating off of him, and it was making me tense. I felt guilty, for dragging him into my problems. He got punched in the face repeatedly tonight, because of me.
I felt like a piece of shit, and amongst all the other crap going on in my life, this was really weighing me down.
I left the Lockwoods’ home feeling determined. I knew what I had to do, and starting tomorrow, everything was going to change in a monumental way. My head was spinning, and I felt outside myself.
Tate sauntered toward his bedroom and I followed him, slowly; hesitantly. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me near him after what happened. But I was far too drunk to drive all the way home, especially at this hour.
I stood in the doorway, uncertainty rippling inside me as I watched him strip out of his clothes. He got down to his boxers, his movements heavy with what seemed like defeat.
I’m such a fucking asshole… I can’t believe I did this to him.
Tate was a good guy. Sure, he could be overly narcissistic at times,and I didn’t doubt that he had been purposely pushing Ben’s buttons to get a rise out of him for his own bizarre amusement. But still. He didn’t deserve to be beaten over the likes of me.
“I could… go…” I stuttered, my brow furrowing as I stared at his back.
He paused and glanced at me over his shoulder, exhaling a strong breath.
“Just… Get in bed. Please,” he mumbled, then climbed into his bed, slinking beneath the covers.
Swallowing hard, I undressed down to my boxers, flipping off the light and making my way over to the bed.I crawled in, on the opposite side, resting my head on the pillow and closing my eyes. I wanted so badly to fall asleep; to decompress from all the insanity of the past month.
But the longer I lied in that bed, in the dark silence, the more I realized my brain wasn’t going to turn off. There was too much happening in my mind. Too many thoughts, images and memories rushing behind my eyes.
Before I knew it, hours had passed—according to the clock on the nightstand—with no sign of slumber.
I tilted my head in Tate’s direction. It was very dark, and I could barely see him, but I assumed he was sleeping. He’d been silent, just quietly breathing the whole time.
My mind began to drift somemore, wondering what Ben and Jessica were doing. They were probably in bed, too. But Ben didn’t sleep. Maybe he was awake at that moment… Thinking about me.
But I shook those thoughts away.It’s over. The sooner you forget about them and move on, the better.
Suddenly, I felt Tate’s hand graze my hip, and I froze. So hewasawake.
His fingers ran across my stomach. I knew what he was doing, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go there. After everything that happened tonight… with Ben… There was no way I could even think about messing around with Tate right then. My heart wouldn’t have been in it at all, even though it rarely was with him, which made me feel like such a huge scumbag. Still, I had to figure Tate was alright with my distance. He’d picked up on it after that very first time, in the bathroom at that sleazy bar.
Tate scooted closer to me, trailing his fingers below my waist as his lips found my neck. He planted some very soft kisses along my flesh and I closed my eyes, seeing nothing other than Ben’s face before I left his house.
He had looked so devastated. So somber and full of rage; confused, and hopeless. I missed him so badly already, and I knew it would only get worse from there.
I’m never going to see him again.
“Tate… I can’t…” I whispered in the dark, remaining still.
His movements paused. “You’re in love with him.”
My chest tightened and burned, unwelcome tears fighting against my eye sockets.
Tate let out a soft breath on my neck, then lifted his head before mine.
