22. Chapter Twenty-Two - Tanner
Tanner
“Summer?”
Her shoulders tense as I say her name before they start to tremble again, her whole body shaking with sobs.
I came here as quickly as I could after Luca’s call, where he all but begged me to pick her up.
“The job she was supposed to get canceled her plane ticket and rejected her after all. I think she’s having a breakdown. I don’t trust her in a taxi, I don’t trust her with anyone right now,” he’d said. “She’s a mess, Tanner. I know even with your history you won’t try sneaky shit so please, can you get her?”
Without another word, I’d gotten into my car and drove here like a madman, to find her crouched in a corner, absolutely miserable.
“Can you stand up, Darling?” I ask her softly. She takes a deep breath and rubs her sleeves over her face, before slowly coming to a stand.
“Oh, Sweetheart.” Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks still glistening with tears.
"Thank you for picking me up," she whispers, her eyes not meeting mine. Her whole posture screams dejection—shoulders hanging, and each of her movements slow like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.
"Of course," I say, peeling the handle of her suitcase out of her fingers. "Let's go. My car is right out front."
I put my hand to the small of her back. And the fact that she lets me guide her without any objection, or any word, really, is almost enough to make me cry right along with her.
She's trying so hard to keep it together. But as soon as she sits down in my passenger seat and has buckled herself in, she pulls her knees to her chest, hiding her face in her jeans, her whole body starting to shake with sobs again.
Quickly, I throw her bag into the backseat and climb in.
"It's going to be okay," I say softly and reach for one of her hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You'll find a better job."
"Will I?" Her voice is barely a whisper.
"You will," I assure her, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before I start the car.
"What do I do now?" she asks, her face still buried against her knees as I pull out of the parking spot.
"You go one step at a time," I tell her softly, my heart breaking for her as I keep glancing at her from the corner of my eyes.
Sometimes love isn’t being the voice of reason, telling her to take her legs off the seat in case there’s an accident. It’s making sure to drive extra save and picking the slow and more secure route.
It’s late already, so I decide to take her to my place. It might take us twice as long with the slower route, but there’s nothing I’d rather do.
At one point, she stops crying. Still, she remains curled up in that little ball, protecting herself from the world outside. And all I can do is put my hand on her shoulder when I'm not shifting gears and try to coax a conversation out of her.
But she's distraught. No wonder.
The more I think about what Luca told me, and the snippets she reveals through tears, the angrier I get. Can a company really just do shit like that? What if she’d already quit another job in order to start there?
It makes my blood boil, honestly.
By the time we arrive at my house, she's not moving. When I glance at her, she’s got her eyes closed and her breath is feathering over her knees evenly. She fell asleep.
So I pull the car into the gentlest stop I can in front of my home and turn off the engine.
When she still doesn’t stir, I unbuckle her and get out, flinching at every sound, round the car and gather her in my arms to carry her inside.
"Fuck," I curse under my breath in a whisper when I remember that Zoey has taken over the guest room.
I completely forgot about her.
When I open the front door, she pops her head out of her room curiously, staring at me with wide eyes, surprise written all over her face when she sees Summer in my arms.
But I quickly shake my head, and that’s enough for her to stay quiet.
She might not know what happened, but still, she understands without any words. Wordlessly, she runs ahead with quiet steps, opening the door to my room so I can carry her inside.
"What are you going to do?" she asks in a whisper after I gently lay Summer on the bed and tuck her in, in a sense of deja-vu removing her shoes before leaving her to her much-needed sleep.
"Nothing," I tell Zoey, slowly walking backwards, out of the room. "Aside from putting her suitcase with her bags into my room and sleeping on the couch."
"Should I leave? You can have the guest room," she offers, but I shake my head.
“It’s alright. I like my couch.”
"You know what? You were right, I need to get back to university anyway," she adds, shooting me a wink.
"Tomorrow," I tell her and press a kiss to the side of her head. "I mean it, though. You're always welcome here."
"I know." She grins and walks off while I take a blanket and pillow from my cupboard in the hallway and carry them downstairs to my couch.
Then I walk back outside to close the car doors and get her bags. I didn’t dare close them before, since I didn’t want to wake her up. She looked like she needed that sleep.
Once I’ve put them inside my room, right next to the door, I trudge back downstairs and sink down on the couch.
I've fallen asleep on it once or twice before, usually during a movie marathon. What time is it even? A glance at my phone reveals that it’s later than I thought. Now that I have it in my hand, I also make sure to send Luca a quick message.
Because I learn from my mistakes.
God, this turned out to be an eventful day.
And even though my back is already complaining as I lay down, the sound of the TV lulls me to sleep pretty soon.
I wake up to the scent of coffee and the sound of someone rummaging around in my kitchen.
Confused, I try to piece together the evening when everything comes rushing back to me.
Summer at the airport. Her sobbing in my car. How broken she looked in my way-too-big bed once I tucked her in.
Slowly, I lift my torso off the couch to peek over the backrest.
My eyes widen when I see her moving in my kitchen like she owns the place. I sink back into the couch pillows and take a deep breath.
This is my chance.
Probably my only shot to make this right.
Yet I have no idea what I’m going to say.
“Would you like a coffee?” I stay still, still trying to decide how to go about this. “I mean, you can pretend to sleep a while longer if you'd like," she says softly, and my heart starts to race.
And when I peek over the backrest again, I see a little smirk playing at her lips as she throws my words from our first morning together right back at me.
"Yes. Coffee. Please," I stammer and get up, stretching my arms over my head before I trudge over to my kitchen island and lean my elbows on it, watching as she pours me a mug.
"I’m sorry. It was a bit late to drive you all the way home."
"No, it's…" She splutters, putting the full mug on the counter in front of me. "I don’t think I could have dealt with being alone yesterday. So… thank you."
She looks better than yesterday. There’s a little bit of spark back in her step, her eyes don’t look as red anymore and she’s not trying to make herself as small as possible.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Not much," she admits, climbing onto one of the barstools. "It feels like my life is one step forward, two steps back and I’m just exhausted."
Her eyes are firmly on the mug in her hand as both of us trail after our own thoughts for a moment.
"Listen, I—"
"You know—"
We start speaking at the same time, our eyes finally locking as we turn to each other in surprise, and then both break into a tentative smile.
"You go first," I tell her and take a sip of the coffee, doing my best not to grimace when I realize how strong she’s made it. God, with this intensity I’m surprised it’s not a more syrupy consistency.
"I’m sorry," she whispers. I hold my breath in surprise, looking at her with wide eyes. "I’ve been a bitch. So really… thank you for picking me up regardless."
"I deserved it," I say, but she shakes her head. Then shrugs and tilts her head in thought. "Partly," she quickly corrects, making me chuckle.
"But it’s who you are. You didn’t have to rush to the airport yesterday to get me, but you still did. And judging by the message my brother left on my phone, I assume you let him know after you got me here safely."
“I sure did,” I say, proudness swinging in my voice. “I’ve learned from my mistake, trust me.”
Wordlessly, she reaches for my hand and laces our fingers, giving it a squeeze. And I can’t look away from our intertwined hands.
When I finally glance at her face, she's still evading my gaze.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry about the whole situation," she says. "But at the same time, I can't stay too mad. I mean, you did the same thing for me, now, so I guess I consider us even?" She frowns. "I don't know if that makes sense. In my brain, it did."
"I get it," I assure her, a spark of hope flickering in my chest. "I promise it won't happen again. Not if I can physically help it."
"I know," she assures me softly.
Feeling bold, I lift her hand and press a kiss into her palm. My heart is beating in my throat as I hold her gaze, her eyes filled with the worry I planted there, but they soften once I press my lips to her skin.
"So, what does this mean?" I ask her and for what feels like hours, her eyes jump from her hand to my lips and finally to my eyes.
"I don't know," she admits with a deep sigh. "It means I've missed you. Which is crazy because it's not like we knew each other that well in the first place."
She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose her free hand.
"It means I'm sick of life throwing stones in my way. And of denying myself all good things, you , because I'm scared something bad might happen again."
She bites her lip, and I Iet go of her hand to cradle her face, pulling her lip free with my thumb.
"But I don't know how to do this," she says, motioning between the two of us. "I don't even know where to start. We skipped so many steps."
"How about we start together?" I ask her. “From the beginning.” She nudges her cheek into my hand. "One step at a time."
"One step at a time," she echoes. "And what's the first step going to be?"
"I think a proper date is in order," I tell her with a grin and her eyes soften. "So, Summer Sheppard, will you let me take you on a date?"
The faintest smile starts playing at her lips and I just can't hold back anymore.
"Fuck it," I whisper and with two strides, I round the kitchen island, crowding her back against it, caging her with my arms.
"I promise we’ll do the rest in order, but… can I kiss you?"
Her reply comes in the form of her hands on my chest, slowly wandering up to lock behind my neck, pulling me down until we're eye to eye.
"Yes," she whispers. And I lose no time finally capturing her soft lips again.
"Fuck, yes," I growl and pull her against me. "I'm going to date the fuck out of you," I whisper once I break the kiss. "I promise I'll never give you another reason to doubt me."
"Don't make any promises you can't keep," she scolds me playfully, soft hands playing with my hair. "Maybe more like you'll try not to."
"Yeah. I'll try," I whisper. And for good measure, I capture her lips once more.
"So," she asks, her whisper feathering over my lips. "Do you have anything planned today?"
"Well, that depends," I whisper back, not moving an inch.
"On what?"
"On what you have planned."
Her eyes jump from mine to my lips, and I just can't decide what to look at. I could lose myself in her eyes, but her lips are plump and such a luscious pink from our kisses.
"Well, as you might know, I'm still without a job," she explains, the corners of her mouth twitching with a smile that she’s fighting. "So, I've got all the time in the world."
"I do have to work for a bit today," I admit, a hint of sadness washing over her face. "But you could sit in. And this afternoon, we’re going on a date. How does that sound?"
"Perfect," she whispers, letting her grin break free. "It sounds absolutely perfect."