Текст книги "Scorched"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“Did you ever think it’s because I care?” Pushing off the island, he angled his body toward mine. “Has that ever crossed your mind just once?”

“When?” I laughed, and then I did take a drink. “Was it between fucking random chicks? Or when you ignored me as soon as our friends showed up?”

“Ignored you?” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable—”

“Why are we even having this conversation?” I interrupted, and anger—that ugly, red-hot feeling—sank its claws in me. “It’s stupid, and I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your own fucking business for once.”

“You think I’m going to mind my own business after what happened between us?”

My laugh came out like a snort. “Why wouldn’t you? Doesn’t seem like what happened between us changed a damn thing. It doesn’t matter anyway.” The words hurt to speak. “It was just a good time. It didn’t mean anything.”

Tanner stared at me as his lips thinned and frustration flashed across his face. “No wonder you’ve been single the entire time I’ve known you,” he said, turning away.

An icy hand trailed down my chest and fisted in my stomach. “What?”

“This.” He faced me again, throwing his hand up in a wide circle. “You’re always fucking drunk, and when you’re not, you’re actually a decent person to be around. But that shit doesn’t last long enough to put up with this mess.”

Chapter 17

Andrea

I couldn’t move as Tanner’s harsh words settled over me, seeping through my skin and digging in deep, below the muscles and bone. I stared at him as this God-awful burn started in the pit of my stomach and crawled up to my chest, getting lodged there.

I wanted to fire back with something clever. I wanted to act like his words didn’t bother me and what he thought didn’t matter. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t care about being a mess and being single, but I couldn’t get my tongue to work. It was glued to the roof of my mouth and his face had started to blur.

A tense moment passed and then Tanner cursed under his breath. He lifted a hand and ran it over his head as he looked away, a muscle flexing along the strong cut of his jaw. “Andrea, I—”

“Don’t,” I cut in, my voice shaking. I wasn’t sure what I was telling him not to do, but the last thing I wanted to hear was an apology. Even though my thoughts were a little fuzzy, I knew you couldn’t own those words and then take them back. But under that hurt, the truth was just as painful, if not more. It wasn’t like I was a victim in all of this. Tanner’s words were harsh, but they were dipped in fact, and even being half-drunk, I could recognize that.

And that’s what made all of this so much harder to swallow.

“You can’t take that back,” I whispered. “You can’t take that back.”

He flinched.

I drew in air, but it seemed to get stuck in my throat. A series of fine shivers rolled down my back. “Fuck you, Tanner.”

Setting the bottle on the counter, I turned and started walking toward the steps. My hands shook.

Tanner wheeled around, blocking my path. His eyes were wide. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said, not like that.”

His words hit and bounced off. “Get out of my way.”

“Andrea—”

“Get out of my way!” I screamed so loudly that a streak of pain shot down my throat. I stumbled back as the tips of my fingers started to tingle. “I get it. Okay? You regret being with me—”

“Wait. What? I never said that, Andrea. I don’t regret a moment of being with you,” he said, shaking his head. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll walk right out there and tell both of them exactly what we did and what it meant to me.”

I laughed, but the sound also got caught around the knot in my throat. For the tiniest moment, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Even though I knew I could, knew I was breathing right then, my lungs seized up. It was like vise clamps had been secured around my chest and tightened. The tingling spread up my arms as the corners of my vision started to dim. Blood pounded through me as my heart rate kicked into overdrive.

Tanner was talking, but I wasn’t hearing him. There was a roaring in my ears, drowning him out. I tried to side-step him, but stumbled and lost my balance. I bumped into the wall. He reached for me, but I needed to get out of there. I needed to go upstairs. I needed my medication.

The sliding glass door opened, and it sounded like a high-pitched whine to my suddenly sensitive ears. Air wheezed in and out.

“What’s going on in here?” Kyler asked from somewhere in the kitchen, and it sounded like he yelled it, as if his voice boomed like thunder.

“He won’t…let me go…upstairs,” I mumbled, leaning against the wall. “I need…to go…upstairs.”

The room spun as I pushed off the wall, my legs shaking as I reached the step. I thought I heard Syd’s voice, but they now sounded far away, somewhere back in a tunnel. I needed to get upstairs, so I could breathe. I needed to breathe.

A hand landed on my arm, but I kept going. Pure determination drove me up the stairs and toward the bedroom. My purse…it was somewhere in the room with my meds.

“Andrea, what the hell is going on with you?” Tanner was right behind me, his voice coming back in, loud and clear.

Please. Just go away. Please. Just go away. I wasn’t sure if I spoke those words out loud or not. I thought I did. I needed to, because the room, the world, needed to go quiet so that I could make this stop.

I stumbled across the room, toward the dresser, but I didn’t see my purse. Where was it? God, I needed to find it. I was frantic. Had I not brought it with me? Did I leave it somewhere? Panic exploded in my gut like buckshot. It was going to happen. I could feel it building at the base of my neck.

“Leave me alone,” I said, and as I spun around, I saw Tanner standing just inside the room, but I didn’t really see him. “Leave me alone!”

Tanner

I froze, hands at my sides as I stared at Andrea. I had no idea what was happening. I didn’t even know if she knew what was going on. Was she that drunk? Fuck. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how.

I stepped toward her and then immediately stopped as she shrieked, “Leave me alone!”

I halted once more. Something was very wrong with Andrea. Her face was flushed, too red. Her eyes were glazed over, maybe from the drinks, but they were darting too fast. Even from where I stood, I could tell her pupils were dilated. My stomach dropped and a horrible, insidious thought crept in. Was she on something?

“What can I do?” I asked. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

Andrea shook her head and then she doubled over, folding her arms across her waist. Concern overrode any other thought. I moved forward, but a smaller form shot past me, heading straight for her.

It was Sydney.

She rushed to Andrea’s side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Andrea, take a deep breath. You need to stop and take a deep breath.”

Andrea was trembling so badly that Sydney was shaking. “I need…”

Either Andrea’s legs gave out or Sydney had gotten her to the floor, because they were both huddled there. “What’s happening?” I asked.

Sydney didn’t answer. She was focused on Andrea.

One of her small hands was on the center of Andrea’s back, the other above her chest. “Take a deep, slow breath. That’s all you’ve got to do. Take a breath…”

Never in my life had I ever felt so damn helpless as I stood there, watching them. I was trained to help save people, to rush into burning buildings and use instruments to pry open the mangled wreckage of vehicles. I’d given CPR and stopped gushing wounds, but I never felt more useless than I did then.

“I need…” Andrea gasped out between a broken-sounding sob. “…my meds…”

Her meds?

“I can’t give them to you,” Sydney said, running her hand down Andrea’s back.

Andrea’s cries grew stronger, and I couldn’t stop myself. I moved closer, kneeling down.

“I’m sorry, Andrea. I can’t,” Sydney continued, holding Andrea tight. “You’ve been drinking. I can’t give you those pills. Not when you’ve been drinking.”

“I can’t breathe,” shrieked Andrea.

“I’m going to get you to breathe again, okay? Just listen to me. I’m going to get you to breathe again.” Sydney paused, looking over at me. “You need to leave.”

Fuck that. “Is she okay?”

“She will be,” she replied softly. “But please leave. She’s not going to get better with you in here.”

I didn’t understand that, but as I glanced at Andrea, my heart fucking shattered a bit. She was practically curled into a ball.

“I’ll make sure she’s okay.” Sydney met my gaze. “But please leave. Let me take care of her.”

But I wanted to be the one to take care of her. After all, I had a feeling that I’d caused this—or at least added to whatever the hell was going on. Never did I suspect my ignorant words would have driven her to this, and maybe it was partly due to the alcohol, but I was a part of this.

“She has panic attacks,” Sydney said when I hadn’t moved. “That’s all this is, okay? It’s a panic attack.”

Panic attack? My internal thoughts were a parrot. I had no idea. Never once had Andrea mentioned anything like that or even appeared like she suffered from them. Obviously it was something relatively common if Sydney knew about them and Andrea had meds—meds she couldn’t take because she’d been drinking.

Oh man, I knew what alcohol could do if mixed with certain meds. I didn’t know what kind of meds she was supposed to take in this situation, but what if she had gotten up here and taken them? Good God, it could’ve ended in a tragic disaster.

I found myself nodding as I slowly rose and I wasn’t even aware that I was out in the hall until I spotted Kyler waiting by the steps. I walked past him. “I didn’t know,” I said. “I didn’t know she went through that.”

Kyler said nothing as he followed me downstairs. I didn’t know where I was going, but I needed to keep moving. I hit the kitchen and stopped, running both hands over my head. “Did you know?” I asked when I heard Kyler behind me.

There was a pause. “Syd mentioned it before.”

“Shit.” I dropped my hands. Tension crept across my neck. “And no one thought it would be a good idea to tell me?”

“Why would we? I mean, that’s some personal shit right there.”

I faced him. “Sydney told you.”

“I’m her boyfriend, and it wasn’t like I was going to tell people. And you—not to be ignorant—but you’re just some guy who hangs out with Andrea every once in a while.”

My hands closed into fists. “I’m not some random fucking dude.”

He arched a brow. “You’re not?”

“Fuck no.”

“You’re her friend then?”

“I’d say we fall in the ‘more than just friends’ category,” I responded and turned away. Spying the beer bottle on the counter, I snatched it up and walked over to the sink, emptying the fucker out. “What? You’re not going to ask for details on that statement?”

“I really don’t think this is the time for me to get info out of you,” he replied calmly. “All things considered.”

“Hell.” I threw the empty bottle in the trash and then gripped the edge of the counter. My head dipped. “I’m a dick. A total fucking dick.”

I shouldn’t have said what I did. There was something to be said about being too honest and those words had been too honest. They were also hurtful as fuck. Anger and frustration had gotten the better of me, and that really made me no different than my father.

Knowing that burned like a mother.

How many times had my father lost his cool and said ignorant shit to my mom? To me? More times than I could count. Sometimes it was the truth. Mom wasn’t perfect either, and neither had I been growing up, but just because something was true didn’t make it right to throw it in someone’s face. And just because what I’d said to Andrea was true didn’t make it okay.

Well, what I’d said was partially true.

I had no idea why she’d been mostly single since I’d known her. Most guys would overlook the drinking. Hell, I could overlook it if I…if I didn’t care about her. And that was the whole thing. I cared about her. A lot.

And I had hurt her.

What I’d said needed to be said, but that hadn’t been the right way to go about it. Clenching the counter, I watched what was left of the foam from the beer bubble its way down the drain. I wasn’t sure an apology was going to be enough.

“It can’t be that bad.”

I’d forgotten that Kyler was even in the room. “Oh, it was.”

“She was drunk and she…she has some issues, Tanner.”

“With anxiety?” I pushed off the counter, ready to defend the whole “issues” statement. “A lot of people have problems with that. It’s not that uncommon.”

He raised his hands. “I’m not saying it’s bad that she does or anything like that, but you’ve got to understand, that probably had some kind of influence on her reaction. You probably weren’t the only cause of what just happened.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. “But man, just trust me on this. I shouldn’t have said what I did. Not the way I said it.”

Kyler stared at me a moment. “Okay. So now I’m going to get all up in your business at the most inopportune time possible.”

I raised my brows.

“It’s obvious that you really care about her. Something went down between you two while we were camping.” He grinned in a way that kind of creeped me out. “This is great.”

I frowned. “I don’t think this is a good thing right at this moment.”

“No. It is. Well, after you apologize for being a general shithead and Andrea…well, when she feels better.” He tilted his head to the side, studying me. “It doesn’t bother you that she has anxiety issues?”

My frowned deepened. “No. Why would it?”

“Some people…well, I’m gonna be real. There are people out there who are assholes and don’t understand something like that. They judge.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not one of them.”

Kyler nodded and then asked, “What about the drinking?”

And that was the million-dollar question. I wanted to be able to overlook the drinking, because underneath it all, there was a damn-fine woman there. Andrea was smart and she was funny. She was kind and she was beautiful. And she was a damn firecracker in and out of bed, but the drinking…

The girl had a problem, even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it.

I shook my head, unable to answer that…and damn, that was probably answer enough. Maybe for a while I could ignore the drinking, but long-term? Yeah, I couldn’t deal with that. Disappointment rushed me. I felt like something cherished had just been snatched away from me.

“What got her so pissed off at you?”

Part of me didn’t want to talk about it, but guilt was a noxious acid in my stomach. “You were right. Things did change between Andrea and me while you guys were gone—hell, before you guys left. It got heated—in a good way. But when you guys came back, she was so nervous and I…I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. I wanted to see how she played things out, but…”

But she hadn’t really acted any different toward me, and so neither had I. Last night, I’d planned on sneaking into her room, but I figured we probably should talk first and I knew talking would’ve been the last thing I would’ve done. So I’d decided to wait until today to talk to her. And then she’d played keep-away all day. If I could go back and change things, I would.

I never ended up elaborating on what I was saying to Kyler. I was done talking about shit and I spent the next couple of hours roaming the house until I finally got tired of waiting for Sydney to reappear. I headed upstairs, past my room. The door to Andrea’s was cracked open, and taking a deep breath, I eased it open.

I was relieved to see that neither of them was still on the floor. Andrea was asleep on her side, facing the door. Curled inward, her face was no longer flushed but her hair appeared damp. Her pale lips were parted.

Sydney sat on the other side of her, leaning against the headboard and legs crossed at the ankles. She glanced up from her phone as I stepped into the room.

“Is she okay?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb Andrea.

Lowering her phone to her lap, Sydney nodded. “She’s out cold.” Her voice was low. “A truck could drive through this house and she’d sleep through it. It’s like that after… after these instances.”

My chest spasmed. “This…this happens a lot?”

She studied me for a moment as uncertainty flickered across her face. “As far as I know, not when she’s been drinking, but it’s happened a couple of times since I’ve known her.”

“She normally uses the meds then?”

Sydney nodded again. “It’s not her fault. Her brain… Well, it’s like a faulty house alarm, you know? Your brain is wired to alert you to danger. Gets the adrenaline going, all of that, but with people who have anxiety attacks, the brain isn’t working correctly. It’s like a house alarm going off when no one is breaking into the house. Sometimes something triggers it—something big. Other times, it can be an issue that would be minor for the rest of us.”

“I didn’t think it was her fault,” I whispered. “I just didn’t know. I had no idea. Andrea seems so…”

“You know, usually the people who smile the most and laugh the loudest are the ones who…suffer the most,” she said quietly as she glanced down at Andrea and sighed wearily. “I knew…I knew the drinking was bad, especially with the anxiety. I’ve talked to her about it, you know? But I never really pushed her on it, and I…I should’ve. I know better. It’s just hard to see everything clearly when it’s someone you care about.”

Damn, that was… All of this was painful to hear. For a moment, I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at Andrea. The bright red curls were spread out behind her like flames. Her hands were folded under her chin, against her chest. I had no idea how she’d gotten herself in that tiny ball, but she looked much smaller, much younger.

“I messed up,” I said out loud, to no one in particular.

A heartbeat passed and Sydney said, “So did she. So did all of us.”

Chapter 18

Andrea

It was the butt-crack of dawn Saturday morning when I found myself wide awake with a pounding headache and a really vile taste in the back of my throat. Throwing off a quilt I didn’t remember grabbing, I sat up and the room did this really weird funhouse thing. I made it to the bathroom with just seconds to spare, enough time to turn on the shower to drown out the sounds I made when I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet.

Pain shuttled up and down my ribs by the time I finished, and I sat there for a minute, clean water in the basin of the toilet and steam filling the bathroom, replaying messy images from the night before, over and over like I was stuck in some kind of twisted instant replay of random, blurry flashes that didn’t make a lot of sense.

Last night…I’d gotten plastered and not only made a complete idiot out of myself, I’d had an anxiety attack. My cheeks burned as I vaguely remembered Tanner standing in the room, me screaming at him…not being able to breathe.

How in the world would I ever face Tanner again?

I dragged myself to my feet and, after stripping down, I stepped under the warm spray. It was a nice shower—multiple body jets and an overhead rain showerhead. I liked to think the drenching and pounding washed away all the lingering alcohol seeping out of my pores.

Brushing my teeth twice, I practically made love to the mouthwash before I pulled on a lightweight maxi dress and quietly sneaked downstairs. It was too early for anyone else to be up and even though I wanted—needed—coffee and its wonderful caffeine, I didn’t want the aroma to turn the house into a Folgers coffee commercial. So I settled for iced tea that I took outside.

Tired and my head thumping dully, I set the tea aside and padded over to the side of the pool. My toes curled as I stared at the water. I felt…detached from last night. Like it hadn’t been me who’d gotten so drunk or had freaked out. Just a movie I watched or something I was a bystander to. But that was how it always felt after an attack, and it had been me.

Lifting my head, I closed my eyes and I tried not to think, but it was a quiet moment. My body tensed, and I wasn’t sure what I was preparing myself for, but every muscle trembled.

When I opened my eyes, nothing had changed.

I walked over to the lounge chair and sat down, tucking my feet under the hem of my dress. Since it was so early, the sticky humidity and the overbearing heat hadn’t rolled in yet. The sky was cloudless, a beautiful blue that…that reminded me of Tanner’s eyes.

Tanner.

My shoulders rose with a deep sigh. Last night had been such a disaster. I hadn’t planned on drinking as much as I had, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know why I’d done it. After what happened between Tanner and me, I’d been a nervous wreck, especially after Kyler and Syd had returned. Besides being thoroughly confused, everything had changed between us. I could no longer be around him and see him just as a friend. Now I was conscious of every little thing I did or said in front of him, and looking back, I knew I had let my head make more of a deal out of his behavior Thursday night than it should have and I had started drinking yesterday so I could relax. That had been the plan, but like Tanner had said, I hadn’t stopped.

I never stopped at one or two drinks, because I didn’t know how.

Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into the cushion as I sipped the tea. A huge part of me wanted to shout at the top of my lungs that I didn’t have a problem. I wasn’t the dreaded A-word. I knew what an alcoholic looked like.

An image of my father formed in my thoughts.

For many, many years, he’d hidden the truth from his colleagues, but not from us. Every moment he was home, he drank. Didn’t matter if it was my birthday or Brody’s. Or Thanksgiving or Christmas. So many special moments he’d missed, passed out on the deck or in his bedroom. Ten years ago, when Mom had threatened to leave him, he’d sobered up, started going to AA meetings and all that jazz. It had been a rough start and he’d had to take a sabbatical from his practice, but he’d made it through.

I wasn’t like my dad.

I didn’t drink every day, but…as I drew in another shaky breath, I opened my eyes. I wasn’t stupid. Alcoholism didn’t mean someone drank all the time, but I didn’t have that problem. No way. I would not slip down that rabbit hole, especially after seeing what it had done to my family. I wasn’t that weak.

Maybe I did drink too much on occasion. Okay. I totally did that. And maybe very few people who knew me in real life actually took me seriously because of it. And maybe… God, I was a mess with or without a drink sometimes.

A lot of times.

Sipping the tea, I let my gaze wander over the tall pines surrounding the backyard. What in the world was I going to do about Tanner? Just the thought of him caused my chest to clench. He thought I was a mess.

That…that had hurt. Still tore through me, because I was a mess. I’d proved that last night, hadn’t I?

Blinking back the sudden rush of tears, I gave a little shake of my head. I felt like I’d disappointed him somehow. Like I had let down my parents when I’d told them I no longer wanted to go to med school. Like I’d disappointed Sydney when she had kindly suggested that I talk to someone when she discovered I had anxiety attacks and I’d told her that I didn’t need to talk to anyone.

But worse yet, I was disappointed in myself, and I couldn’t go back and change anything.

The last couple of times that I’d had that feeling of being overwhelmed and out of control, I’d been able to stop it before I’d needed meds. It had been well over a year and then some since I’d actually had one. If I hadn’t been so drunk, I knew I would’ve been able to stop it. I just knew it.

The sliding glass door opened and I looked over, my heart lodging in my throat when I saw that it was Tanner. Sleep clung to his eyes. The shadow of growth along his jaw gave him a rough, sexy appearance. Normally, he was so clean-shaven. He only had on a pair of flannel bottoms as he stopped in the middle of the deck, raising a hand and idly rubbing his palm against the center of his chest.

I was struck mute, partly embarrassed about last night, and his disheveled look was really just too damn attractive for this early in the morning. When I rolled out of bed, I looked like a redheaded Chewbacca.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff as he lowered his arm. “You’re up early.”

I nodded, clutching my tea to my chest. “I…I got a lot of sleep last night.”

He nodded slowly, and when he didn’t respond, the silence stretched out between us until it became so awkward that my cheeks started to burn. I was about to get up and flee, which probably also included shoving my head under a blanket, when Tanner cleared his throat.

“Mind if I sit?” He jerked his chin at the space at the end of the lounge chair I sat on.

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Quiet, I watched him sit down, resting his arms on his bent knees. I knew we were going to have a talk after last night, but I’d really hoped it wouldn’t be this soon, because I had no idea what to really think about everything and I felt like I needed a hard drink to fortify myself for this conversation.

Well, that wasn’t the right thought to have, all things considered.

He angled his head toward me and his troubled gaze met mine. My stomach dipped as his shoulders tensed. “About last night,” he started, voice low. “I want you to know that… what you went through? The anxiety attack? I wish I’d known you had those.”

And I wished he’d never found out.

“I would’ve liked to have been able to help you through it, but I want you to know that I don’t think anything… weird about it. That I don’t think any differently about you because of it.”

Only a very little part of me believed that to be true.

“I want to get back to all of that. I want to learn more about it,” he continued. “But, first, I need to tell you this. I shouldn’t have said what I did, the way I said it.”

A moment passed. “No. You shouldn’t have,” I agreed, lowering my gaze to my half-drunk tea. “But…you were right about it. I’m a—”

“You’re not a mess,” he cut in.

If only he really knew how messy my head was sometimes. That attack last night? Just the tip of a Titanic-sized fuckedup iceberg.

“Seriously,” he continued. “That was a dickhead move. I shouldn’t have said that. So I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He paused. “I’ve been saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot lately.”

“You have,” I murmured, setting the tea on the small, round table beside the lounge. “Tanner, I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

He stretched out his legs, wiggling his toes. “I worry about you,” he said after a moment, surprising me. I’d vaguely recalled him saying something like that last night. “I didn’t mean to lose my cool with you. It’s just that you—”

“I drink,” I finished for him, flushing. “That doesn’t make me an alcoholic.”

Tanner didn’t respond for a long moment and then he raised his shoulders in a helpless shrug, and I knew my statement had fallen like a pile of bricks between us. A few may have landed on my head. I folded my arms around my waist, wishing I had something other than my word to back up what I’d just said, but I really didn’t.

What I did say, I hadn’t planned on. “I’m single because I haven’t dated anyone that made me want to put the effort into a relationship.”

His features tensed. “Andrea—”

“The guys I date aren’t really relationship-worthy,” I said, and I couldn’t shut up. Once I opened my mouth, the words kept coming. “There are guys that are. Like you and Kyler. The ones you want to latch onto and never let go. And there are guys who are good for going out with to the bar and maybe spending a couple of hours with. Hooking up. Nothing more. You bring them home, hoping they don’t puke all over the place.” I laughed hoarsely as he watched me. “That is, if you bring them home. So, none of them I’ve ever wanted to be in a relationship with. Hell, half of them I wouldn’t look twice at while sober.”

His brows knitted.

“Well, let me just clarify, that it’s not like an entire football team worth of guys I’ve been with. Nothing like that, but that’s not the point.” I shrugged. “I’m just the female version of them.”

“What?” Shock colored his tone.

“You know. I’m not really relationship-worthy. I’m the girl who drinks too much, does stupid shit, and is either really funny when drunk or really annoying.” My lips trembled even though my tone was light. “I am a mess. I know that.”

“No.” Tanner shook his head. “You are not that. You’re not a mess. You are relationship-worthy, Andrea.” He twisted toward me, expression taut. “Fuck. What I said last night—I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if it makes you think that.”

I waved my hand. It was dismissive, but that was the last thing I felt. Nothing about this was something I could throw away. “I know what I am, Tanner. I know what guys think when they see me at a bar. It’s the same thing I think when I see one of them. Good for a few things, nothing long-term.”

“Don’t say that.”

Meeting his gaze, I smiled weakly. “I’m not trying to wallow in self-pity or make you feel bad for me. I just know what you all—”

He moved incredibly fast. Standing, he reached down and cupped my cheeks, tilting my head back. I had a second to take a breath as shock held me immobile. He lowered his head to mine.

Tanner kissed me.