Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAEVE
Peeling my heavy eyes open, I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the low light of the sun peeking behind the curtains, when I’m suddenly hyperaware of someone’s warm body pressing into mine.
I perch up onto my elbow in a flash, staring down at Tate stirring softly in his sleep as his arms tighten around my waist.
Oh my God.
Even our legs are tangled up together.
Everything comes flooding back in my sleepy haze, and I run a hand down my face as I try to peel away from him without waking him up.
The swollen, puffy feeling in my eyes only further reminds me of my mental breakdown in bed last night, and I want to shrivel up and disappear forever.
Once I’m free from Tate’s grasp, I flee to the bathroom.
My horror only grows as I glance at my reflection, my face falling into my palms as I let out a silent groan.
Just as I expected, my eyes look like I had gotten in a fight last night rather than poured my guts out to a man I’ve known for just over a week now.
My hair is a tangled mess from sleeping in the crook of Tate’s arm all night, which means it’ll be too crazy to brush out without a weird bend to my hair, so in a tiny ponytail under a hat it goes.
We were vulnerable with each other last night, more vulnerable than I’ve ever been with anyone aside from…
I shake my head to rid it of those thoughts.
I would’ve never guessed that Tate had a troubled past, too.
He just seems so…sweet. So gentle all the time.
It’s shocking that someone who came from what he did ended up like that.
It’s like he took all those things and grew from them, made sure that they wouldn’t have that hold on him for the rest of his life.
Hopefully, one day, I’ll grow from this.
Once my teeth are brushed, my hair is semi-tamed, and I’ve soaked my face in cold water a few times to help with the swelling, I take a deep breath and open the door.
The oxygen gets stuck in my windpipe, nearly choking me, as I step out of the bathroom and see Tate in the middle of changing.
Shirtless. Half-naked—okay, not really, but he might as well be.
I’m not sure what I thought he’d look like underneath all those hoodies that he wears, but this surely wasn’t it.
He’s huge. Everything is…huge. My eyes trail over his broad shoulders, his arms, his chest. Holy shit. I guess he felt pretty muscular when I was sleeping against him all night, but it’s not like I was going out of my way to check.
“Oops, sorry.” I laugh half-heartedly, busying myself with my bags.
His cheeks redden. “S’okay.”
My entire body relaxes from its rigid state I hadn’t even realized it was in as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. My shoulders droop as a tired sigh whooshes through my lips.
How has no one—
Stop.
The bathroom door opens again, and I stand up straighter, plastering a smile on my face as I quickly start to sift through my clothes.
Tate smiles back around his toothbrush, toothpaste coating the corners of his mouth as he walks out to grab a fresh hoodie from his bag before heading back into the bathroom to finish up. This time, he leaves the door open.
My eyes fall on my phone still sitting on the counter, so reluctantly, I tiptoe into the bathroom, reaching out to grab it just as he’s turning from finishing up at the sink. My face smashes into his bare chest, a sharp pain radiating through my nose as I stumble back slightly.
“Jesus, Clark Kent,” I snort, holding my nose. “What are those? Muscles of steel?”
“I’m sorry,” he rushes out, reaching down to move my hand as he inspects me. “You okay?”
I’m momentarily stunned into silence as his gentle fingers prod my skin, peering up at him through my lashes in a way that probably makes him think I’ve officially lost my mind.
It’s hard to breathe with him towering over me like this; his muscles are taking up all the space in the room.
It isn’t until his hands fall back to his sides as he watches me hesitantly that I finally snap out of whatever the hell is wrong with me.
“I’m okay,” I say quietly.
He takes the tiniest step back, letting me grab my phone before I turn and try to walk back out as normally as possible. Not like I almost just had a near-stroke from being so close to him. Or, his torso, really.
Get it together.
Tate finishes getting ready in the bathroom while I change my clothes, and I think he even stays in there longer for good measure to avoid walking in on me half-naked.
Neither of us says anything else, not about last night, not about what had just happened in the bathroom; we just get our bags re-packed and head down to the lobby to check out.
The snow must have finally stopped, and the warm sunshine melted away any remaining slick ice outside, leaving it safe enough for us to drive to our next destination. It’s almost blinding with the glare reflecting off the white snow, which doesn’t seem to help my poor eyes.
I try to hide under my ballcap and a pair of sunglasses as Tate drives down the road to the nearest gas station to fill up.
The last thing I want is for him to have to see me look like I just suffered from an allergic reaction.
While he’s in the gas station, I quickly apply a small layer of concealer and some lip gloss for good measure.
When the driver's side door opens again, I peek over to see him climbing into the cab with a tray of two coffees, and suddenly, my day just got a whole lot better. He hands me one as he slides into the seat, closing the door behind him before the chilly air can get in.
“Ooo,” I coo, taking the coffee. “Thank you.”
He hums in acknowledgment before we both sit and take a sip. My body shudders from the warmth of my latte as it spreads through my chest, heating me up from the inside out.
“How do you take yours?” I ask.
“Black.”
I gape at him. “Nothing in it?”
He shakes his head, the dimple in his cheek forming as he fights a sheepish smile.
There’s a playful remark ready to roll off my tongue, but my phone ringing stops it from coming out. Setting my coffee in the cup holder, I pull out my phone to see my mom’s name, and I don’t hesitate to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie,” Mom chirps in my ear. “Update me.”
“We’ll be in Albuquerque tonight, so we’ll be there Friday afternoon.”
Mom hums, and just by the way it sounds, I know what question is coming next. “Okay. And who is this friend that’s driving you?”
“Tatum Brooks.”
I have to bite back a snort as I look over at him, observing the way he gazes at me nervously for a second before averting his eyes to the road.
“Tatum,” she repeats. “Is Tatum a boy?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And he’s your friend?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not with Landon anymore?”
Yeesh.
“No.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “You know your brothers are going to eat him alive, don’t you?”
“Eat who alive?”
Mateo’s voice echoes in the background, sending a wave of something through my chest that I can’t quite pinpoint. It’s been a year since I last saw my family, and as annoying as my brothers can be, I do miss them. Maybe I miss being annoyed a little.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and if they do, I’m spiking their drinks with laxatives.”
Mom laughs, and so do I as Tatum raises a brow over at me. Our conversation probably sounds crazy from only my side.
“Okay, okay. Well, call me later, Mae. I want to make sure you get here safe.”
“I will,” I reassure her. “Love you, Mom.”
Hanging up and throwing my phone back in my bag, I settle down in the seat and grab my coffee again for a long sip. It almost comes out of my nose when I see how stiff Tate is sitting, his fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel.
“Sorry.” I snicker at Tate’s nervous expression. “My brothers. My mom thinks they’re going to give you a hard time.”
“Oh.” He gulps.
“Only because you’re a guy and I’m the baby sister.”
“Understandable.”
“But you can take them, muscle man,” I joke, reaching over and squeezing his bicep. “Right?”
He laughs, but it sounds weak, so I snake my hand up his arm until it’s resting on his shoulder to give him a reassuring rub.
“I’m joking,” I tease softly.
Tate clears his throat. “I knew that.”
A laugh bubbles out of me for the hundredth time, and I realize for a split second that my stomach aches the tiniest bit from it. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed this much.
I can’t remember the last time I felt that.