32. Tru
CHAPTER 32
TRU
N ow
I shouldn’t be going on a date with him, not after the way that summer ended. He’d loved me, then discarded me, and still had the audacity to say he cared or that I didn’t understand when he was the one who started the snowball and then added massive heaps of snow and ice until it barreled down the mountain and took me out completely.
This was just…him winning a bet, us both putting our swords down and trying to walk away with the least amount of damage. It was what I had to tell myself when I carefully put on mascara and added my favorite lip gloss.
It was what I told myself when I did one more spritz of perfume than I normally do, and I repeated the same mantra, trying to convince myself when I put on my white Yankees crop top with low-slung baggy jeans and sneakers, showing off an insane amount of stomach and side boob.
It was just us burying hatchets.
Finally coming to terms with the fact that we could never be anything more than this.
My brain reminded me we’d kissed multiple times, and I’d gotten him off.
That was just…whatever. The body remembered things, and it was so easy to get caught up in the trap of thinking this time would be different. It wouldn’t. We both knew it wouldn’t.
One and a half more kisses—and one date and I’d be free of Vaughan. The draft would be happening in the next two weeks, which would distract him, and then graduation.
We’d be out of each other's lives. I had enough saved up to at least find a place and get my MBA, and it would be normal.
Life wouldn’t be about studying in the library or making out with my ex in order to make him focus and feel better.
It would be about closure.
I took a look at myself in the mirror, and all my brain fired back at me was one word.
Liar.
I grabbed my purse and slid my phone in my pocket, then opened my door, nearly running into Vaughan as he was walking out of his room.
He just had to have a tight gray T-shirt on, one that had a low V in the front, showing off one of his tattoos. He had it slightly tucked into his tight jeans and was wearing a belt.
Why was I always a sucker for guys who could wear belts?
His brown boots didn’t help—haphazardly tied, expensive, probably Prada or some other brand. He screamed money in sweatpants, but even in casual date attire, you knew he was someone special.
His light brown hair was still messy but styled, with the light caramel pieces choosing today of all days to show off as they dangled dangerously close to his eyebrows, making his bright blue eyes stand out even more.
The guy was so gorgeous it was infuriating.
I gulped and took a step back. “All ready?”
I sounded breathless and felt dizzy to go along with it, so dizzy that when I turned around too quick, I nearly missed the top stair. He caught me and pulled me back against his warm chest.
Shit.
So warm. So strong.
His lips grazed my right ear. “Are you feeling okay? We can always stay here?”
Staying here? With the dangerous thoughts I had swirling in my head along with the memory of his touch? Bad idea. I needed air. “No, I’m fine. Let’s go eat. I’m just hungry and got dizzy!”
He slowly let me go. “Alright.”
I bolted down the stairs and out the door and went to his Jeep.
He frowned and pointed at the road where a nice Mercedes was waiting. “Sorry, I got us an Uber since I knew we’d probably have a drink or two. I didn’t want to take the chance and was trying to be smart.”
Right. Smart. “Oh yeah, okay, good thinking.”
Good thinking? Really?
I jumped into the back seat and put on my seat belt. The drive to the beach was only about ten or fifteen minutes, and because our Uber driver was clearly the sort of person who hated silence and decided to annihilate it at all costs, the only conversation we had was with him discussing bitcoin and aliens among us.
Had the guy pulled out a foil hat, I would have just nodded and said, “Makes sense.”
We made it to the beach in record time and got out of the car as fast as humanly possible.
“Why do I always get the weird ones?” Vaughan asked. “Did you see his E.T. tattoo on his bicep?”
I shuddered. “It moved like it was speaking whenever he gripped the steering wheel too hard. It was like it was staring at me.”
Vaughan burst out laughing. “I was more concerned about the fact that it was directly above a QR code tattoo.”
“YES!” I yelled. “It took everything in me not to scan it!”
Vaughan holds up his phone. “I’m not known for my self-control.”
“Give it to me!” I swiped his phone and stared at the website. “No way, it’s his Patreon.”
“For his podcast.” Vaughan laughed.
I shook my head and handed his phone back. “End of the World podcast. Nice. I think he could have come up with a better name though, right?”
Vaughan nodded. “I already came up with at least ten. E.T. Rising was my favorite, though. Oh, also, I’m a tier-one subscriber. It was only three dollars, and that’s basically free entertainment, plus I might learn how to…” He looked down at his screen. “Learn the art of mental shields.” He grinned. “So I’d say the date's off to a good start.”
I smiled down at my feet. “Yeah, feels like it. Wouldn’t be us if something crazy didn’t happen.”
We started walking down the boardwalk toward the restaurant.
Vaughan reached for my hand and didn’t let go. “Remember the beach tent incident?”
“Sand everywhere.” I sighed. “And Sandy going crazy.”
“Yeah, Sandy. Still crazy?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“Just like my dad. At least we can agree on that. Think they’re still screwing?” he asked. “Not that I want details.”
“I think…” He squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to him. Butterflies exploded in my stomach. “That they’re still together. Otherwise, she’d be even harder to deal with. Plus, you know Mark, her husband, he has his own side piece. Apparently, it works, and love is dead.”
“Maybe to them,” Vaughan said. “But they’re entitled idiots with too much free time, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“Am I entitled still, you think?”
I smirked up at him. “The fact that you have to ask that says enough.”
His face fell.
“But,” I added, “the fact that you’re aware of it means that you don’t want to be. You just can’t help it, and that’s good because it means you're self-aware.”
“I think you just gave me a compliment.”
“The beach makes me sappy.”
“Ah, I see.” We were almost at the little dock with all the restaurants. “Maybe that was the key all along, getting tutored on the beach so you don’t build a shank and or cut my dick off.”
“You can build shanks anywhere. I’d find a shell.”
“Part of me feels like that would hurt worse than a knife.”
“Shells are very sharp. Imagine the bacteria.”
“Whoa, okay, Dateline , settle down.” He released my hand, then wrapped an arm around me. It was so casual, so normal that I didn’t even realize we were walking like that until we passed a store and I looked at our reflection. To anyone on the outside, we looked like a couple. And not just any couple but a happy couple.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
If only we could go back to the past and communicate or tell each other to put down the very firearms given to us by our parents and weaponized by them at the same time.
“Two,” Vaughan called out to the server. “And can we be on the water?”
“One table left.” She grinned. “You guys out celebrating anything?”
My heart sank to my feet.
“Actually, yes,” Vaughan said. “You see, I forgot her birthday last week and treated her like shit, so I’m trying to make up for it starting with hamburgers, followed by drinks, some fries, more drinks, and most likely ice cream. You think you guys can come sing later too?”
“Of course.” She looked ready to swoon. “That’s just, wow, what a self-aware man. Keep him.” She winked at me. I felt hot all over when I sat down. I expected him to sit across from me. Instead, he sat right next to me.
“What are you doing?”
He just shrugged and said, “Staying by your side since I failed to do that last week. Is that okay?”
Staying by my side.
Not in front of me.
Not behind me.
Next to me.
A partner.
A friend.
A lover.
Equal.
My dream.
“Y-yeah,” I finally croaked out. “Should we order some drinks?”
With a nod, he looked down at the menu and grinned. “Will you build a shank out of that fork if I joke and say Sex on the Beach?”
There went the butterflies again. “Take your chances. They also have steak knives here, and the tables have shells. I could maybe come up with a new prototype. Imagine the possibilities.”
“Whiskey and Coke it is.” He tossed the menu onto the table. “But know, if you want to order a Slippery Nipple, nobody is stopping you.”
I turned to him. “I’m more of a Duck Fart sort of girl.”
“It’s the coffee liqueur in that for me, slaps every time, but you always have to follow it with something the opposite, like… Ass Juice.”
I was just taking a sip of water and nearly spilled it all over my lap. Setting my glass down, I put my hand on his thigh. “I think blue balls follow Ass Juice. Right?”
“Yeah, but only if you add in the blow job between the ass and balls.”
“Ah yes, to prepare for Liquid Cocaine.”
He made a face.
"I forgot about that one. I think the first time I had that mixture, I puked in my hands and tried to hand it to Brady.”
“Aw, you tried to give him a gift!”
“Right? And he didn’t even say thank you.”
“What a dick.” I laughed.
Our server cleared her throat.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. How long had she been standing there?
“So,” She stared down at the iPad screen. “Is it going to be the Ass Juice, Liquid Cocaine, or did you want to go with strict Duck Farts and move on from there?”
Vaughan, dead serious, looked up at her and said, “Ma’am, we’d like the Duck Farts on the rocks. Though, I gotta take it slow tonight, don’t want to end with the blue balls if you get my meaning.”
She nodded seriously. “Wise man.”
“Thank you.” He put a hand on his chest.
Her amused smile was all I needed to relax as she walked off. I took another sip of water and stared into it. “Wait a second, what else is in a Duck Fart again?”
“Whiskey,” he said.
I groaned into my hands. “You know what whiskey does to me.”
“Oh, I hope it does you dirty, Tru. Plus, it’s your birthday dinner. Drink all you want, and I’ll hold your hair later.” He held up his hand, and on it was his trusty rubber band, the one he used to carry when he was stressed and snapped. He had it on. He had it on for me. “I have you covered.”
He was dangerous like this. I started scooting my chair away when his hand jerked out, and I grabbed my chair, only to pull it even closer to his. We were thigh to thigh. “What are you doing?”
“Ceasefire. It’s your birthday night. My apology night. No past. No future. Just us, right now. I think we both deserve that, don’t you?”
My eyes filled with tears. “You want me to just forget?”
“You think I can?” he countered.
“No.”
“Never.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Sealed. No takebacks.”
I kissed him back. “No takebacks.”
Another throat cleared. What was she, a ninja? “Here are your shots. I’ll go ahead and give you a minute to go over the menu.”
“I know what I want,” Vaughan said, then locked eyes on me. “And you? Do you know what you want, Tru?”
“The same,” I whispered. “Whatever he’s getting, I want.”
I wanted so much.
With a desperation and hope that terrified me.
“Two cheeseburgers, extra fries, extra fry sauce, pineapple on the side, two pickles, and if you have any of that coleslaw, let’s add that. Oh and two more shots.”
“What shots do you want?”
“Patrón.”
Oh no. He was mixing whiskey and Patrón?
“Coming right up.” She walked off while I glared at Vaughan.
“What?” he asked.
I smacked him on the shoulder. “You know what tequila does to me!”
“You suddenly find yourself very uncomfortable in your own clothes, but you love tequila. I promise I won’t peek, and I won’t let any other bastard so much as breathe in your direction.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” We both clicked our glasses and took our Duck Fart shots.
It might have topped every birthday I’d ever had, and it was just getting started.