33. Vaughn
CHAPTER 33
VAUGHN
N ow
I was starving. I ate so much food I thought I was going to be sick, and to add insult to injury, we’d had some pretty sugary shots and were now just drinking straight tequila.
It had been three blissful hours, and we were getting slightly tipsy.
I pulled out my wallet right when the servers gathered around us and sang a version of "Happy Birthday" to Tru.
Her face couldn’t have been any more red.
I squeezed her thigh when she blew out the candle on her chocolate mousse cake and grabbed a fork. “I know it’s your birthday, but you have to share.”
She held up her fork. “Or what?”
“A duel.” I held up mine and smacked her fork to the side.
She tried to beat me by shoving her fork in the mousse first, so I used my free hand to grab some whipped cream and smear it on her mouth. “I slipped.”
“My ass!”
“No, not my ass. My hand slipped upward. It happens.”
She glared.
“Hey, no need to get upset. I’ll fix it.” I grabbed a napkin and held it to her mouth, then decided to lean in on the Patrón shots, grow a pair, and go for it. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then trailed her bottom lip with my mouth, cleaning up the whipped cream. Slowly dragging my tongue, I outlined her lips before biting down on her bottom and sucking, then her top.
When I pulled away, her mouth was swollen, her eyes closed. “Did you get it all?”
My heart hammered in my chest.
"Missed a spot.”
“Thought so.”
“Yup.” I kissed her again, and again, the dessert was forgotten. Somehow I was able to pull my card out without looking when the server came by again.
She could have robbed me blind, and I wouldn’t have known.
We broke apart, chests heaving. “We should walk,” I blurted.
“Walking’s good.” She nodded three times, then touched her mouth, then her hair, before standing up and looking out the window while I signed the bill and tipped.
Once everything was back in my wallet, I reached for her hand and led her out of the restaurant, nerves firing on overdrive.
Everywhere I looked was so public.
I wanted more time with her.
Privacy.
As luck would have it—a downpour started. The only place other than another bar we could go to was the arcade.
I pulled her in. “I think our night was just cut short.”
She looked around. “I’ve never been.”
I blinked. “Never been where?”
“An arcade.”
“What? How?”
She shrugged. “It looks fun. Wanna play?”
She was pointing at the two racing motorcycles. “Hell yes, I’ll play, and I’ll win. I don’t let people win, Tru, you know this, so prepare to get smoked.”
“Yeah, okay.” She waved me off. “Now give me money so I can get those token things.”
My heart exploded. Money had always been a weird topic for us because I had so much and she’d basically gotten bought as a charity. I’d always wanted to give her the world, and she’d always made me feel bad by rejecting it.
Did that mean I could buy her a new purse?
A car?
Okay, I was getting ahead of myself, but still.
I’d never handed my credit card over faster. “Let’s go add fifty on one of those game cards. Prepare to lose, Tru.”
“Prepare to eat shit, Van.”
She said my nickname.
She said it.
I almost tripped over my own feet.
And two hours later, I did, in fact, eat shit, but it wasn’t because I was sucking on purpose. It was because she called me Van.
And we both knew that meant a wall had come down between us.
“How many tickets do we have?” She smacked me on the chest for the eighty billionth time that night. “I’m feeling greedy.”
I held up our little receipt. “Nine hundred and eighty-seven.”
“Not bad.” She tapped her lips with her finger. “I mean, we can’t get any of the big stuff, so I say we go quantity over?—”
“Quality.” I finished for her. “I like the way you think, Tru, and I’ve had my eye on one of those Chinese finger traps for a solid five minutes.”
“Not to be too overhyped,” she added. “Next to the slinky and fruit-flavored Tootsie Rolls.”
“The vanilla sends me every time.”
“It’s cherry for me.”
“There's a dirty joke there somewhere, but I’m too wiped out from dodging all the teenagers in here trying to cut in line.”
She scoffed and crossed her arms as we continued to wait in line for some five-year-old to pick out two more candies. “Justin was clearly asking for it.”
“I can’t believe you threatened a fourteen-year-old.”
“He cheated.” She pointed at me. “And then told me I threw like a girl, which is offensive to all girls everywhere. I mean, what does that even mean? It’s offensive. Hell yeah, I throw like a girl, and that little bitch saw it firsthand when I handed him his ass.”
“Dear God, I forgot how much tequila makes you feisty. I think we need more shots.” We made it to the front of the line. I handed over our joint ticket receipt and picked out my Chinese finger traps while she went for her slinky. Naturally, we added in some snap bracelets and some friendship bracelets along with some Laffy Taffy and finished off our little paper bag with Tootsie Rolls.
I handed her the paper bag. “Happy birthday, Tru.”
She held it up to me. “This was fun.”
It was more than fun.
It was one of the best nights of my life.
Dare I say better than a stupid sex bet? What the hell had I even been thinking? I wasn’t. I was too hurt to think. Not that the hurt had gone away or lessened, but it felt good to just be us without our pasts.
It was a nice utopia-like existence that wouldn’t last past tonight.
But maybe that was what we needed—a moment to see what would have happened had we been honest, had we not walked away from each other, had we been more mature.
Regret slapped me across the face as we walked out of the arcade.
I could have had years of this.
I could have fought harder.
I could have explained to her why I was upset instead of getting drunk and hurting her the way she hurt me.
I could have.
Should have.
And now? Can’t.
The rain had stopped.
And our Uber decided to arrive early. Yay, one star, you prick. I didn’t want the night to end but end it did as we both got in the car and shared our candy.
She was yawning and half asleep by the time we got back to the house. I told myself I was holding her hand because she was tired, but really, it was for me. I wanted to hold her hand all the way to the door because I knew the moment I dropped it, the closure we so desperately needed would end. The ceasefire wouldn’t even matter anymore. We were closing the door. Our fight against each other was gone. I apologized.
And now? Just roommates.
No more war.
No more arguing.
Just existing.
How sad.
We walked into the house in silence. Brady was already in bed. Dishes were in the sink, and the lights were turned low.
“Thank you.” Tru held up the bag. “For tonight.”
I nodded and leaned in. Technically, I still had half of a kiss left, so I chose to use it on her forehead, not trusting myself to touch her mouth again and try for more. It would take me a while to get her out of my head and heart.
Because I was starting to realize I never did in the first place. I just tried to forget her, but you couldn’t forget a part of your soul. They were written on your skin. You might not be able to see it, but you felt the scars, and every single time you were with them, the wounds reopened, begging to be acknowledged.
Her eyes darted to my mouth before she nodded her head and made her way up the stairs. I waited until I heard the shower start, and then I followed. I walked into my room, stripped down to my briefs, and crawled into bed. The lights were still on, but I was too lazy to turn them off.
I stared up at the ceiling and finally exhaled.
“It’s better this way,” I said out loud in an effort to convince myself.
A knock sounded on my door.
I leaned up on my elbows. “It’s open.”
Tru walked in, hair wet, wearing black shorts, a white tank, and no bra. What? Was her plan to torture me further? “Hey.”
“What’s up?” In my head, it sounded casual, but out loud, it sounded like I was yelling a greeting at her like an idiot. I even said it so fast that it sounded like wassup.
Tru walked over to my bed and sat down on the edge of it. “I never blamed you for what happened between our parents. I was just angry that you slept with me and then just left, got drunk, and announced to the world that I was your summer fling. It hurt. No, it more than hurt. I loved you. You betrayed me—and in front of people—so I just snapped, but I should have at least waited until you were sober to ask what was really going on. I’m sure you felt messed up after finding out I knew about them but didn’t say anything?—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” I held up my hand and moved to a sitting position. “I gave you so many chances that night when we had sex to tell me everything.”
“I did.”
Not this bullshit again. “Tru, I’m trying really hard to stay calm right now, but no, you didn’t. You omitted the real reason I was upset.”
She frowned. “The real reason? The only reason I know is because of Sandra and your dad.” She paused. “Wait, was there another reason?”
“Are you playing me right now?”
“No! I’m serious!”
I wanted to scream, but instead, I took a few seconds to calm my racing heart. “Tru, Dad said you knew everything.”
“What’s everything?” A tear slid down her cheek. “Because all I know was what I walked in on.”
My mind raced. “About my mom's affair? How my dad isn’t actually my biological dad? When I caught them, I asked if you knew, and he said you knew everything.”
Tru’s face paled. “Vaughan, I swear to you, I did not, nor have I ever known that until you just told me right now.”
“W-what?”
“Vaughan.” More tears slid down her cheeks onto the down comforter. “I swear on my own life I had no idea. God!” She jumped to her feet. “Is that why you did what you did? You thought I was lying to you about it? That’s huge! I would have talked with you and asked if you were okay. You dealt with that on your own that night? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because he said…” My throat caught. “He said you knew everything, and I just—fuck.”
Tru walked around the bed and knelt in front of me, grabbing my hands. “If I knew that, I would have told you so you wouldn’t get blasted like that, and if I’d known that night, I wouldn’t have even let you have sex with me. I would have held you.” Her lower lip quivered. “I would have told you it doesn’t matter who brings you into this world. What matters is how your existence can change it—you changed mine. It doesn’t matter where you come from, Vaughan. It’s about who you love and what you leave behind.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I would have liked that speech.”
“I would have meant every word.”
I pulled her into my lap and hugged her. Tru’s arms flew around my neck holding me there, keeping me there while we sat in silence.
She never betrayed me.
She’d been in the dark too.
My dad had just flippantly said it.
I broke us.
I was the one who broke us because I was too afraid to ask—too afraid that she knew and was ashamed of me or that I’d somehow kept it from her.
It was a tactical, let-me-hurt-you-before-you-break-me scenario.
I regretted it all.
Especially losing her and all this time we could have been together.