30. Tessa
30
Tessa
S hep comes in the door two hours later looking ragged. I’m still sitting in the same position on the couch.
“Did you see him?” I ask.
“Yeah, he was at the Kennedy. That’s what took so long.” I nod, not having the energy to reply.
Shep sets his bag on the dining room table and walks to his room. After a minute I follow, hearing the shower running. I don’t go in, but sit on the bed instead out of habit. He’s become so utterly familiar that we’ve started this little routine of sitting and talking while the other showers. It never feels odd or even sexual, it just feels like us. Like we both enjoy the closeness. But seeing him naked right now feels like crossing a line.
I can just make out the outline of his back in the frosted glass. I’ve had enough time to contemplate this little surprise, but there are too many unanswered questions for my liking.
“Why didn’t he stay and wait for you?” I call, hoping my voice sounds casual.
He sighs and I see his form brace two hands against the tile. “He thought we were together.” He’s resigned, as if all the air has been let out of him.
“Yeah, I got that impression. But you didn’t know he was coming?”
“I thought it was just Peyton and Mom. He decided to come last minute and was going to surprise me and stay here instead of sharing a room with them.”
“Oh, you didn’t tell me.” The hurt bleeds through my voice.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t have my phone on me until I got out of practice and by then it was too late.” He doesn’t say he’s sorry. He knows me well enough not to say it. I hate empty words and those are some of the worst.
“Why was he so surprised to see me, Shep?” He mumbles something, sounding irritated and there’s an invisible hand on my shoulder warning me I should stop. But I’ve never been good at listening, so I push. “What did you say?”
“I said, I didn’t tell him you were living here.” And there it is. Exactly what I was afraid of.
“Why not?”
“Does it matter?” The weary tone of his voice infuriates me. He hardly ever gives me a contrary opinion and now he’s acting like this isn’t a big deal? How dare he? I storm into the bathroom, not caring if it makes him uncomfortable.
“Of course it matters! You said you told him months ago.”
“And I didn’t. I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But he doesn’t sound the least bit sorry and I go red with rage.
“Why not?” I shout.
“Because I didn’t want to, okay? How was I supposed to tell him that his ex-girlfriend was living with me? He would have seen that as me trying to make a move.” Shep pulls a towel over the glass and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door open so hard I think it’ll shatter against the opposite wall. “And after that night at the club, he wouldn’t have been wrong, would he?”
“That wasn’t for months, Shep! You could have explained at any point! You could have told him there was nothing going on between us, that you were just helping me out.”
“Why would I tell him that if it wasn’t true?” he asks and I notice the set of his shoulders, the way he almost squares up against me.
“Excuse me? There wasn’t anything going on before–” And then it hits me. “You didn’t tell him because you wanted something to happen between us? That’s why you let me live here?” He keeps his mouth shut, but a muscle in his jaw ticks, letting me know I’ve hit the mark. My hand flattens on my chest, trying to ease the pressure there. “I thought we were friends.”
I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind growing up that we could be more. A part of me has always loved him, but then Beau entered the picture last summer. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t because I never got the chance. I was already a goner. I told Shep my heart wasn’t mine to give away and it was the truth.
Shep takes a step towards me. “We are friends, but…”
“Say what you mean, Shep. Don’t pussyfoot around now.”
He takes a steadying breath. “You can’t blame me for wanting more, especially after what we’ve been doing this month. We agreed not to pursue things until you were ready, but that’s not the end of it.”
“The end of it?” I have to repeat because I’m utterly incredulous. “It’s never started! We’ve just been fucking around.”
His face is stricken, like I’ve just back-handed him. I don’t care if it’s harsh. I don’t care if he doesn’t want to hear this, I have to make him understand that it isn’t about how long he waits or when I’ll forget. We simply aren’t meant to be. Seeing Beau today proved that point for me.
His blue eyes burn, cold in their fury. “I told him.”
Awareness skitters over my skin, but I ask, “Told him what?” When he doesn’t answer, I know. I scream, “Why? Why would you do that? Do you even know what that must have felt like for him?”
“I bet it hurt like hell. Probably as much as it does for me to see you pine for his ass every goddamn day.” It's a slap to the face regardless of whether or not he touched me. I’m not sure how to deal with it while my blood is still boiling. He stalks closer to me, but I refuse to back down and when he gets in my face, I glare. “Don’t tell me at least part of this little outburst isn’t because you’re pissed he didn’t fall right back into your arms.”
“How dare you,” I seethe.
“Tell me, Tessa. Tell me that doesn’t piss you off and I’ll apologize for everything. Right now.”
“I’m not angry with him. I’m angry with you.” My voice is low and threatening, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Liar,” he whispers.
I push his chest, forcing him to back up a step. “I don’t even know him anymore. He probably doesn’t even care. He didn’t act like he did.” But suddenly I wonder who I’m justifying this to?
“Oh, he cares.”
“How? How are you so sure?” It’s childish to beg for answers, but I need something to hold on to.
Shep throws his hands up. “Because he’s cared about you his whole life. You don’t just stop loving someone like that.”
“You do when you get your heart broken badly enough.” I’m no longer shouting and this is the first time I've looked away. I stare down at my painted toes on the floor, wishing I hadn’t said that out loud.
“And how would you know?” He throws back at me. “When have you ever had your heart broken?” I don’t answer. I can’t. I thought I’d avoid heartache because I was the one doing the leaving, but that didn’t matter in the end. It still hurt just the same. When I stare up at him blankly, he continues. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been breaking his heart just about as long as you’ve been alive. He’s a big boy, Tessa,” he scoffs. “I’m sure he’s learned to survive you by now.”
The bathroom is so large, it seems as if I’m all alone though he’s only walked a few feet away. There’s an awkward pause while I hold my arms around myself and he braces his on the marble counter.
He looks up at me through the mirror and says, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t explain, but then again, he doesn’t need to.
“I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, but I see now that I have. Let’s get through tomorrow and I’ll find my own place.”
I leave him standing there and go back to the room that won’t be mine for much longer.