11. Tessa
11
Tessa
T he party last night was surreal. For the first time, it felt good to have Beau’s undivided attention. I’ve never noticed how comforting his gaze can be. He was so casual about everything that’s happened. He didn’t go around bragging that he’d finally caught me. Instead, he showed the same steady interest he always has and it makes me wonder if I’ve judged him too harshly. People change their minds every day. Why is it so hard for me to change mine? I’m constantly fighting my own nature.
I’m having a hard time with how Shep and I parted. He didn’t look visibly upset as he chatted with others, but he didn’t speak to me again. If I thought we’d make up, I was sorely mistaken. He left without a goodbye and I didn’t know how much I wanted one until I didn’t get it.
I watched him walk away with a heavy feeling. Maybe I should have gone after him, but he acted like an ass. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the way he’s looked at me recently. Whether he wants me for me or if it’s only crossed his mind because he caught Beau and me at the pond, I don’t know. But I know that was jealousy last night. I felt it. And I wasn’t the only one. Peyton’s swift glance as he got up to leave conveyed everything she was thinking.
I’m on my way now to see her. It’s true I’ve been hiding a few things since I came home. What I didn’t realize, until Shep outed me, was that I’ve been hiding things from her too. We’ve never had secrets and I don’t want to start now.
I show up to her office an hour later with two apology coffees from Carriage House. The building that houses the McAbee Farms and Distribution offices is larger than you’d expect it to be. It always reminds me that their family business is far more than just a couple of peach orchards. They have farms all over the state and distribute across the country.
When I walk into the small lobby, Peyton’s father’s door behind the receptionist’s desk is closed. Shelby cheerily waves me down the hall and I breathe a sigh of relief. Beau inherited his openness from his dad and if I’d gotten stuck talking to Mitchell McAbee, I’d never make it to apologize to Peyton.
She’s sitting behind her computer wearing dark-rimmed glasses and a frown. “Be careful,” I say. “Your face is going to freeze like that.”
She doesn’t look away from the screen when she reaches out a hand and says, “That better be coffee.”
I hand her a latte and sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Though Peyton may have dumb blonde features, she’s anything but. She’s whip-smart and the things she can do with numbers amaze me. I don’t understand any of it, but it’s impressive all the same. When I majored in business at the request of my parents, she chose accounting because she genuinely loves math. She was ecstatic to take over this department for her family. It keeps her busy and keeps her at home, exactly where she wants to be.
When she finally turns her sky-blue eyes on me, she smiles tiredly. “Thanks for this.”
“No problem.”
There’s an uncomfortable pause and she raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to speak first. She and Beau look so much alike, but making me go first, this is a Shep move.
“I’m sorry,” I say, scrunching my nose.
“For?” If there’s anyone that tops me in stubbornness, it’s Peyton.
“For acting weird. For not telling you about the pond.”
“Hmmm, I hadn’t noticed.” She grins as I cock my head. “It’s fine, but now you’re obligated to spill.”
I lean forward, putting my face in my hands. “Ugh! This is so stupid. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Uh uh. Start from the beginning.”
I lift my eyes but not my head. I secretly love getting this off my chest. Telling Peyton is like free therapy because she’s such a good listener and she won’t let me leave anything out. She’s a maniac for the details. “What do you want to know?”
“Umm, I don’t know. Everything.”
“We kissed. And it was amazing but now I don’t know what to do.”
“Ew, chill out. That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Peyton says dryly, but I know she’s joking.
“That’s the problem.”
“Well, let’s look at this objectively. Did you recently suffer a life-threatening brain injury?”
“Stop,” I chuckle. “I don’t get it either, but can I tell you something?”
“No. I’m not sure I want to know.”
I give her an unamused look. “There was this pull between us.”
“A pull?”
“Yeah, like a force. Chemistry or a trance or something, I don’t know. But Pey, I wanted to kiss him.”
“Well, I mean, he’s always been persuasive. Beau could charm the pants off anyone, you know that.”
“I don’t know, it was more than that. I never felt that way with Eli.”
Eli Worthy was my college boyfriend. We dated for a year, but with graduation looming, I panicked and cut him loose. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to seeing myself with someone long-term, but I took my panic as a sign that we weren’t meant to be. My gut is usually right about these things, it’s just a matter of whether or not I’m going to listen.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say,” she says. Peyton pulls a leg up into her office chair and leans back, staring at the ceiling like she’s trying really hard to comprehend everything.
My face gives away my unease. “That’s not all.”
“What? There’s more than a steamy make-out sesh and a triple date to the fair?”
It’s best to tell her quickly. “He took me to The Stampede. And he taught me to dance. And we may have made out there too.” I trail off, waiting for her to say something. But her wide eyes are so amusing that I can’t resist kicking my feet and squealing. “It was the best date I’ve ever been on!” She’s well and truly speechless now.
“I keep coming back to the brain injury,” she mumbles after a moment.
“He’s different,” I tell her. “Or I’m different, I don’t know, but I can stand him a little more. I want to be around him. And I like kissing him.”
Peyton chokes on her coffee. “Well, you and Beau have that in common.”
“What?”
“I can never guess what’s going to come out of either of your mouths. And that was a sentence I never expected to hear.”
“Glad to see you can still be shocked.”
Peyton assesses me. “I don’t think it’s such a bad thing, Tessa.”
“Being with Beau?”
She nods. “What’s got you so worried?”
“Besides the fact that I’m a complete hypocrite? What about leaving? I can’t start something with him if I’m planning on leaving the first chance I get.”
“Have you told your parents?” She doesn’t have to ask. She knows I haven’t and I feel a twinge of embarrassment. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you’re going to give it a shot with Beau, you need to be upfront with him.”
“I know.”
“Look. I’ve seen how unhappy you’ve been since graduation. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Beau or even how long it will last, but that’s something you don’t have to lie about.”
I mull over her words. “You’re right. That’s one thing.”
Her face softens. “It’s okay to change your mind.” She doesn’t say it, but I hear her in my mind. Especially about him.
“You think?”
“Yeah. People will be surprised at first, but they’ll go back to thinking it was their idea soon enough.”
A little jolt of happiness zings through me. She has a way of settling my nerves than no one else seems to have. Maybe she’s right. Everything just might work out.
“I’ve got to get to work soon,” I say, standing.
“If you go to the swimming hole later, I know someone who would like an invite.”
“Isn’t he working today?”
“God, he’s taking up too much space in your brain already. I meant me, dummy.”
We both laugh. “Oh, sorry. Definitely soon, okay?”
Peyton frowns, giving me a questioning look from behind her desk, but all I give her back is a mischievous smile. “I’ve got an idea for tonight.”
Push the button, Tessa. I’m standing on the porch of Beau’s house getting ready to ring the doorbell. His Jeep is here, but no one else’s car is in the driveway. Thank God. I might be okay with our changing relationship status if no one addresses it directly, but standing at his door and asking his parents if I can see him is the kind of embarrassment I’m not ready for.
I ring the doorbell and nothing happens. I wait and then knock a few times. Still nothing. I can hear Ox, Beau’s dog, barking inside so he has to know someone’s here. Before I can think better of it, I round the house, heading for the back door. Peering through the kitchen window, I see Beau opening the front door to an empty porch. In nothing but a towel.
I whirl and press my back against the house. Shit. I’m going to look ridiculous if he catches me lurking outside his back door. Why couldn’t I wait instead of creeping around searching? Jeez, Tessa. Desperate much? Maybe I can sneak back to my car and text him to meet me at the Stampede instead. I should never have done this. Comfort zone be damned.
I’m trying to tiptoe down the back steps when I hear the door open and freeze. “That’s odd. I was just thinking about you.” I can hear the smile in his voice before I even turn around.
“What gave me away?” I sigh.
“Ox was sniffing at the door. You know he loves you.”
The large chocolate lab must hear his name because he ambles out the door around Beau’s legs and peppers me with kisses.
“That’s because I love him too,” I baby-talk to him, scratching all his favorite spots.
Oxford and I go way back. Beau got him as a birthday present when he was twelve. He was supposed to be a hunting dog, but the training never stuck. Ox likes to wander around town and stop by neighboring houses for treats. He follows Beau everywhere like a big, brown shadow, but he’s friendly to everyone. The lab plops down, rolling over for a belly rub and I kneel to oblige him.
“Not that you don’t look great, but you’re dressed a little too nicely to just come over and pet my dog.”
I hide a smile at the compliment. “I was hoping for a peep show, actually. Seems like I timed it just right.”
I smirk up at him from the ground. Beau seems momentarily thrown. Usually he’s the one flirting and I’m already rolling my eyes at this point. The porch light shines behind his head and illuminates his outline looming over me. He looks bigger like this, still damp from his shower and holding the towel closed one-handed. The heat that simmers in his eyes is a dangerous thing. Predatory and intent. Has he looked at me like this before? Because I don’t know how I could have missed the intensity. I can’t look away.
“Did you want to come in?” He asks innocently, belying the gravel in his voice.
My throat is suddenly dry. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come out?”
He scrunches his brows. “What are you asking exactly?”
He never makes anything easy. “Would you want to go somewhere with me?”
The embers glowing in his eyes flare. “I’d go anywhere with you. Especially dressed like that.”
I put a lot of thought into what I’m wearing tonight. Things have changed between us and as much as I’m loath to admit it, I’m craving the smoldering looks he gives. I want more. And I might want them to lead to more. So I thought about what Beau would like and chose a cropped band tee, tight, dark jeans with just the right amount of flare, and the cowboy boots I wore last time we went out. I wrangled my long hair into a high ponytail and pieces of it are already curling around my face in the muggy night air.
When he appraises me hungrily, I know I’ve made the right choice. His eyes find mine again in the semi-darkness and it’s an effort to stand on wobbly legs.
“Did I pass inspection?” I ask with the dry tone he’s used to.
He doesn’t answer, just turns and heads back into the house, leaving the door open for Ox and me to follow. He calls out from the stairs.
“Give me a second to get changed.”
I’ve been in Beau’s house a thousand times. It’s almost as familiar to me as my own, but I look at the pictures on the mantle anyway. A picture of Shep and Beau as little boys, fishing with their father. Both hold up what they’ve caught, but Shep has a soft smile on his face, where Beau has the biggest, toothiest grin you’ve ever seen. It’s funny how evident their distinct personalities were, even then.
There’s another framed photo of their parents dancing. It was taken at one of their cousin’s weddings and I remember being there too. Beau asked me to dance and I remember the look on his face when I said no. Sometimes the memories that pop up every now and then hurt. I resent the way I acted and wonder if I would have been happier if I had given in to him sooner.
“Where are you taking me anyway?” he asks from behind me.
Beau startles me and I try to shake off feelings of regret before he sees. When I turn, he’s wearing a collared shirt and is just finishing the buckle on his belt. I can’t help but stare as I watch him effortlessly slide the belt through the loops with his big hands. There’s a little tug in my lower belly and I feel my cheeks redden. I place the picture I’m still holding back on the mantle.
“You up for a little dancing?”
I don’t understand his expression as he looks down at himself. “Nope. Not gonna work.”
He stalks back up the stairs and I follow, not understanding. He walks back into his room and stops at his closet.
“Fine, McAbee, don’t go dancing with me. You don’t seem like the type to want to sit in a stuffy restaurant, but if that’s what you want…”
When I get to the doorway, he fists the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. Why is it so fucking hot when guys do that? I gape like a fish before remembering to shut my mouth. He faces away from me as he pushes clothes around and the muscles of his shoulders and back bunch as he moves. Terrible, awful thoughts of what I’d like to do to him, do with him, run through my mind. He looks over his shoulder and grins wickedly when he catches me gawking at his naked back.
“No, I meant there’s no way I can wear a polo to The Stampede. I’d get eaten alive,” he chuckles.
“Oh.” I should have thought of that. “Why do you care what they think? Isn’t that what you’re always asking me?” I cross my arms, leaning against the jamb.
He spins around holding up two shirts and stalks towards me, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I don’t care what they think, I care what you think. Now which one?”
The warmth from his naked chest reaches out to me and I want to sink into it. I bite my lip, barely glancing at the two shirts before fumbling to say, “That one.” His wolfish grin tells me he’s very aware of the effect he has.
Before he can pull the black t-shirt over his head, my hand reaches out and lands in the center of his chest. I had no idea I was even thinking of touching him, but he looks too good not to. Beau looks down and follows the path of my hand as my fingers drag through the sandy hair between his pecs. He tenses as one of my fingers brushes over his nipple. I can’t meet his eyes because I’m fascinated by the skin beneath my hands. I slide down his stomach and let my fingers roam over each and every ab until it trails under his belly button. It’s the same feeling I’d get as a little girl playing with something I shouldn’t.
He sucks in a sharp breath when I brush along the top of his jeans. “What are you doing to me, Firecracker?”
“Nothing,” I whisper.
He reaches out and pulls me flush against him. His mouth crashes down on mine and I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting to climb him like a tree. The heat from his body seeps through my shirt and I can’t get close enough. Whimpering in frustration, I rub myself against him, shameless with sudden need. I don’t know where it came from, but I’m not in the mood to ask questions. Not when I have him in front of me.
“Easy, baby. I’m right here.”
He walks us backwards until my knees hit the bed and he lays me down gently. My body feels out of control and I need him to stop the spiral. I grasp the band of his jeans and pull, but he’s already on his way to me. He lies beside me on the bed, curling his body around mine, but I still need more. I want his weight pressing me down into the mattress. I tug at him and he understands immediately. He settles on top of me and the chaos in my blood eases a little, held in place by his heavy frame. I kiss him with every ounce of gratitude I have for giving me what I want and not making me ask.
It’s probably not a good idea to let him see how much I want him. It’ll only make this harder when it inevitably ends, when we get into another of our fights. But I can’t stop my hands from stroking the muscles of his back or my legs from widening so he can grind harder against where I’m aching. I can’t stop the small, needy noises pouring out of my mouth every time we break apart to breathe.
His hands are as hot as my skin feels when they slide under my shirt. Beau hesitates when his fingers brush the lace of the bralette I’m wearing.
“Please,” I breathe raggedly.
Mercifully, he pushes both my shirt and bra up over my breasts. When I think he’s going to take them in his hands, like I’m dying for him to do, he bends instead. He holds the t-shirt over my collarbones and presses kisses to my stomach. I feel his tongue trace against my fevered skin and a straight shot of desire licks its way from the spot his mouth is on to my core. I’m embarrassed at what he’ll find if this goes further and my clothes come off. It would only stroke his ego to find me wet and wanting. It’s odd. I’ve never felt more like a liar and I’ve never cared less.
Beau works his way up my stomach. Licking. Kissing. Biting. Until I’m writhing, desperate to get my pants off.
“Goddamn,” he whispers to himself.
I chance a look and he’s staring down at my breasts, at my nipples tightening under the weight of his darkened, blue gaze. His beautiful, blonde head dips and he sucks a peak into his mouth, hard. Jesus Christ.
I love how he’s not handling me with kid-gloves, that he’s not soft and slow. I love how he responds to my every moan, every kiss, like he’s just as ravenous. It spurs me on knowing he wants me as much as I want him. I’ve got one hand digging into his shoulder and one tangled in his hair while he sucks and teases. His mouth is driving me crazy and my clit pulses to every lap of his tongue until we hear a door close.
We pause, panting, and Ella’s voice carries up the stairs. “Beau, you home? Is that Tessa’s car?”
I shove him away and discomfort crosses his face until he sees me scramble around for his shirt. He catches it easily and I spin to look in the mirror on his dresser. I fix my bra, smooth my hair and get ready to go out ahead of him when he puts his hands on my hips from behind.
“Chill, we can walk down together.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder and I swat him away as the lingering heat in my belly threatens to flare again.
“We can not! She almost caught us doing…” I hesitate, glancing at the bed. “This. Put some clothes on, for God’s sake.” I gesture at his still gloriously naked chest before walking out.
“You think she bought it?” I ask as we buckle ourselves into the car ten minutes later.
To my chagrin, he says, “Hell no, my mother is a bloodhound. She knows exactly what was going on upstairs.” We laugh together and after a pause, Beau asks, “What is going on between us, Tess?” His eyes slide over my profile before darting back to the road.
“Tessa,” I correct. And then, carefully, “We’re…friends.”
“If you kiss all your friends like that, I’m questioning the people you hang out with.”
“I never knew you were such a girl, McAbee. Can’t we just have fun? Not take anything too seriously?”
He looks me over and there’s a visible change that makes me think I’ve said something wrong. “You let me know when you want to get serious, Tess.”
We’re catching our breath at the only two spots available by the bar. Except for this break during the last couple of songs, we’ve been dancing and flirting all night . We’ve been spinning around the dance floor, totally wrapped up in each other.
This is exactly why I wanted to come tonight. Last time, it was so easy between us. It was fun playing with him. Dancing was playing. It had the same exhilarating feeling as running around with your friends on a summer night. I’ve been wanting to relive that night since it happened.
It also doesn’t hurt that Beau playing teacher does something to me. The confident, firm way in which he taught me the steps had me ready to obey his every command. And the pride I felt as his eyes approvingly trailed my every move, made me wonder what else I could get him to teach me. The only thing that could have made the night any better was if he’d let a “good girl” or two slip from his lips. I’m dying to hear the way it sounds with a little gravel behind it.
I can’t get over how good he looks every time he takes a long pull from his beer and he’s caught me staring more than a few times. Yeah, Tessa. You’re crushing hard. “Do you ever miss playing football?” I ask him.
“Not really. I got my fill in college. I don’t have natural talent like Shep so I always had to work really hard at it. And it’s a lot of fucking pressure.”
“What is?”
“The games, everything being televised. The travel. The practices. All of it. It’s just not my dream.”
I lean in. “And what is your dream, McAbee?”
He tilts his head, eyes shining in the smoky dimness. “I’m not sure we’re drunk enough to be talking dreams.”
“Humor me.” I raise an eyebrow. He doesn’t answer for a second and I take another swig from the bottle.
“Alright.” A flash of white teeth. He mirrors me, leaning into my space. “This.”
“This?” I ask, gesturing around at the packed, dingy bar we’re sitting in.
“This.” He gestures between us.
I pause, unsure what to say. I expected him to say taking over his father’s business, farming the orchards, I don’t know. An answer that didn’t come with that much pressure, that’s for sure.
This is what he wants? My heart flips in my chest because I want him to want this, but he doesn’t know what this entails. A girl who’s lying about the time she has. A girl who really likes him, but is so disappointed in herself for going back on her word that she wonders if he’s worth it. I’m only going to disappoint him.
I huff out a laugh to cover my shame. “Simple man, aren’t you?”
“This is plenty for me.” He doesn’t gesture around this time, just stares at me with hope apparent in his eyes.
I smile and hope he doesn’t see my discomfort. I motion towards the restrooms. “Be right back.”
He reaches out and holds my hand for the briefest second before letting go.
In the tiny, wood paneled bathroom, I stare into the mirror until someone bangs on the door for me to hurry up. After the fourth minute looking at my reflection, I decide to tell Beau my whole story. I’m going to go back to the barstool beside him and let my ambition to leave this town put an end to the future I can see him building. He deserves that much.
I push through the crowd and when a tall woman moves out of the way, I spot Beau with his back to the bar. A woman’s hand reaches out and comes to rest on his knee. He doesn’t move it immediately and he doesn’t look uncomfortable. She strokes a few inches up from his knee. Up and down. Up and down. I can’t see the blonde woman’s face, but I can tell she’s pretty. Everything in me knows when she turns around, she’s going to be gorgeous.
I can’t move. I can’t do anymore than watch from a few feet away. Beau’s hand comes down on top of hers and she leans in, like she might be trying to catch the scent of his cologne. Clean, like fresh rosemary, I think absently . I look away then, not able to handle his hands on her. Anger burns, hot and sudden. It burns through my body all the way to my toes. For all his talk about me, the minute I’m not in the picture, he flirts with someone else. Jerk. I need to get out of here, but I need to confront him more.
Coming back to my place at the bar, I ask, “Is this a friend of yours, Beau?” I don’t spare her a glance as I pick up my half-full beer.
“Is that what you’d call us? Friends? Sure it’s gotta be more than that,” she says in a syrupy, sweet voice. I’d know that voice anywhere.
I turn my head just enough to see Anna Broward has taken her hand off Beau’s knee, though she’s still standing closer than necessary.
“Tess, this is–”
“Hi, Anna,” I interrupt.
Her smile is big and fake, but lucky me, she’s just as pretty as I remember. “It’s so good to see you, Tessa. I didn’t know you and Beau were a thing.”
“We’re not,” I correct her. “We’re just friends, like you.”
Her brown eyes harden at the dig, but she smiles again, putting a hand on Beau’s shoulder this time. “It’s a surprise to hear that. Y’all are the last two people I could see being friends. Didn’t you always say you’d never get close to Beau, Tessa?” He shrugs off her touch.
“I do think I said that once. Thanks for reminding me.” I give her as sweet a smile as I can manage. “This one is just so persistent, you know.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.” She gives me a pointed look before saying to a tense Beau, “Last time we…saw each other, you were unattached. I don’t mind sharing, but Tessa here might.”
“Anna was just leaving,” Beau tells me firmly.
“Oh no, please stay. I have to get home.” I link arms with Beau and look up at him. “Ready?”
His jaw tightens. How dare he look irritated? “Ready,” he says, getting up and walking out with me in tow.
“Always nice to see you, Beau,” Anna calls after us.
Her words hit me between the shoulder blades. Exactly like the knife to the back that interaction was.
The first five minutes in the car is spent in strained silence. I know he doesn’t want to be the first to speak, but it sure as hell won’t be me. This is perfect timing, really. I was just getting ready to give him our ending speech and now I don’t have to bother. I didn’t want to be the one to go out on a limb and my feet are still safely on the ground, thanks to Anna. We’re not a couple, so it doesn’t matter that he let another girl put her hands on him while we were on a date. A girl he’s clearly slept with. Someone he may have slept with recently, for all I know. God, I’m pathetic.
“There’s nothing going on with Anna,” Beau says but the comment hangs heavy in the air.
“You don’t have to explain anything.”
“I do, but there’s nothing to explain. There hasn’t been something between us for a while now. Anna’s just…” He searches for words. “Jealous.”
“I’m sure she has no shortage of great attributes, but really, it’s fine. We’re not together, so who you do, I mean what you do,” I say with plenty of bite, “is none of my business.”
“You think we aren’t together?” He drags his eyes away from the road to stare daggers at me.
“We aren’t.” I shrug my shoulders.
“Tess, I had my mouth all over you today. Remember that? Because I sure as hell do. You think that means nothin’ to me?”
“I don’t have to be your girlfriend to fuck you, Beau.” The pain I’m feeling bleeds into my voice. It was a low blow, but it got the point across.
I hate that Anna was there tonight. I hate that with just a few words, she reminded me there are plenty of girls in Pelahatchie who would jump at the chance to be with Beau. It felt like just the two of us at The Stampede and away from prying eyes, it was perfect. Having all his attention away from anyone who knew us, I felt like I could be the girl he wanted for a little while. I wasn’t ready to let go yet.
But I guess it’s just as well. What we had for the night was never going to last forever. Anna showed up when I needed her to. Before this went too far. Before we did something we’d regret.
“It’s fine. We don’t have any claim on each other. We can walk away from this and go back to what we were. We know how to do that.”
He slams his palm on the steering wheel. “Why aren’t you fighting?”
“What?”
“Why aren’t you fighting me? Where’s the fire? This isn’t you. The Tess I know would be cussing me out right now, whether we’re together or not, just because she’s pissed off.”
“No. Tessa ,” I emphasize, belittling his use of my nickname, “wouldn't fight for something that’s doomed. Been doomed from the start,” I say flatly.
“So you don’t care? It doesn’t bother you that Anna came over specifically to ruin our night?”
“Nope. I’m not bothered at all.” His hands tighten on the wheel as I try to keep my composure, but my next words slip out anyway. “You didn’t seem to mind when she had her hands on you, so I don’t mind either.”
“Did you not see me push her away?” He asks angrily.
I didn’t see that actually, but I don’t tell him that. My eyes were so trained on the liquor bottles behind the bar that I didn’t notice much else. I would have looked anywhere rather than seeing her touch him.
My voice is calm as I reply. “Beau, it doesn’t matter what I saw. You and I aren’t together. It doesn’t matter who you date.”
“Fine, Tessa.” He says my full name with the intention of wounding me and it does. “Act like you don’t give a shit about me. I’m used to it.”
That statement hurts more than anything has tonight. More than the confusion, more than the pain, so I stay silent in my seat for the rest of the drive.
When he pulls into his driveway, I hop down. “Thanks for the ride.”
He doesn’t even look at me.