After We Fell (95 page)

“
What? Why?
I told you—” I stand up, knocking the cereal box onto the tray.

“I know you did, but just hear me out,” she begs.

“Fine.” I sit back on the bed and wait for her explanation.

“He said he's really sorry and that he needs to explain all of this to you. I understand if you don't want to hear it. If you don't
want to talk to either of them, Christian or your mother, I'll get online and change the flight now. I just wanted to give you the option first. I know you care for him . . .” Her eyes begin to water again.

“I don't,” I assure her.

“Do you want me to change the tickets?” she asks.

“Yes,” I tell her. She frowns and leans over to lift my laptop from the nightstand next to the bed. “What else did he say?” I ask hesitantly. It doesn't matter, but I'm curious.

“The wedding is still on,” she informs me.

What the fuck?

“And he says he's going to tell Kimberly everything and that he loves her more than his own life.” Tessa's bottom lip begins to tremble at the mention of her betrayed friend.

“Mike is fucking stupid, then—maybe he does belong with my mum after all.”

“I don't know what made him forgive her so quickly, but he did.” Tessa pauses and looks at me like she's trying to gauge my mood. “Christian asked me to have you at least say goodbye to your mother before we leave. He knows you won't go to the wedding, but he wants you to tell her goodbye.” She rushes the words.

“Hell, no. No fucking way. I'm getting dressed and we're getting the fuck out of this shithole.” I wave my hand around the overly expensive motel room.

“Okay,” she agrees.

That was easy. Too easy. “What do you mean,
okay
?” I ask her.

“Nothing. I just meant okay. I understand if you don't want to say goodbye to your mom.” She shrugs her shoulders and tucks her messy hair behind both ears.

“You do?”

“Yes.” She smiles a weak smile. “I know I'm hard on you sometimes, but I'm going to support you on this. You're completely justified here.”

“Okay,” I say, more than a little relieved. I thought she'd fight me and even try to force me to go to the wedding. “I can't wait to go back.” I rub my fingers over my temples.

“Yeah, me, too,” Tessa weakly replies.

Where the fuck is she going to live? After what happened here she can't just go back to Vance's house, but she won't come to my place either. I don't know what she's going to do, but I do know that I want to rip Vance's fucking head from his body for making her return to the States complicated.

I wish I could get her a job with me at Bolthouse, but it's impossible. She's not even a sophomore, and paying internships at publishing houses don't come along every day, even to graduates. There's no way she'll find another, especially in Seattle, not until she's further along in her degree, or even finished with it.

I take the laptop from her hands to finish the task of changing our flight. I shouldn't have agreed to come to the UK in the first place. Vance talked me into bringing Tessa, only to ruin the entire damn trip himself.

“I just need to get the stuff from the bathroom and we can head to the airport,” Tessa says, tucking my dirty clothes into the top pocket of the suitcase. A defeated-looking frown covers her face, and her brows are drawn together. I want to smooth away the deep worry line between them. I hate the way her shoulders are slumped, and I know without a doubt that they're bearing the burden of my troubles. I love Tessa and I love her compassion; I just wish she wouldn't carry my problems along with her own. I can carry my problems myself.

“Are you all right?” I ask her. She looks up and plasters the most unconvincing smile onto her face that I've ever seen.

“Yeah, are you?” she asks back, her worry line deepening.

“Not if you aren't. Tessa. Don't worry about me.”

“I'm not,” she lies.

“Tess . . .” I cross the room and stand in front of her, pulling
the shirt from her hands that I've just watched her fold at least ten times within the last two minutes. “I'm fine, okay? I'm still pissed off and shit, but I know you're worried that I'm going to snap. I won't.” I look down at my busted hands. “Well, not again, anyway.” I correct myself with a small laugh.

“I know. It's just that you've been controlling your anger so well, and I don't want anything to jeopardize your progress.”

“I know.” I run my hand over my hair and try to think clearly without getting angry.

“I'm really proud of you already, for how you handled that situation. Christian was the one who attacked you,” she says.

“Come here.” I hold my arms out, and she graciously steps into them, nuzzling her face into my chest. “Even if he hadn't come at me, the fight still would have happened. I know I'd have made the first move if he hadn't,” I tell her. My hands move under the hem of her shirt, and she flinches at the coldness of my touch against the warm skin of her back.

“I know,” she agrees.

“Since you're off until Wednesday, we'll stay at my father's house until you—” The vibrating of her cell phone interrupts me.

Both of our eyes dart to the table. “I won't answer it,” she announces.

I let go of Tessa and grab her phone. Looking at the screen, I take a breath before answering. “Stop fucking harassing Tessa; if you want to talk to me, then you can call me. Don't bring her into this shit,” I say before he can even say hello.

“I did call you. You shut your phone off,” Christian says.

“And why do you think that is?” I huff. “If I wanted to talk to you, I would have, but since I don't, stop fucking bothering me.”

“Hardin, I know you're mad, but we need to talk about this.”

“There isn't anything to talk about!” I shout. Tessa watches with worried eyes as I try to control my temper.

“Yes, there is. There's a lot to talk about. All I'm asking for is fifteen minutes.” His voice is pleading.

“Why should I talk with you?”

“Because I know you feel betrayed and I want to explain myself. You're important to me, and to your mom,” he says.

“So now you two are forming some kind of united front against me? Fuck off.” My hands are shaking.

“You can act like you don't give a fuck about either of us, but your anger shows that you do.”

I pull the phone away from my ear and have to stop myself from smashing it into pieces against the wall.

“Fifteen minutes,” I hear him repeat. “The wedding isn't scheduled to begin for a few hours. All the men are meeting for lunch at Gabriel's bar. You should meet me there.”

I bring the phone to my ear again. “You want me to meet you at a bar? Are you fucking stupid?” A drink sounds good right about now . . . the burn of hot whiskey on my tongue . . .

“Not to drink, only to talk. A public place would be the best spot for us to meet, for obvious reasons.” He sighs. “We can meet somewhere else if you want.”

“No, Gabriel's is fine,” I agree. Tessa's eyes go wide, and she tilts her head slightly, obviously confused by my change of heart. It's not affection that makes me want to hear him out; it's purely curiosity. He claims that there's an explanation for all of this, and I want to hear it. Otherwise, my barely existent relationship with my mum won't exist at all.

“Okay . . .” I can tell he didn't expect me to agree. “It's noon now. I'll meet you there at one.”

“Sure,” I snap. I don't know how this little meeting could possibly not end in blows.

“You should bring Tessa by Heath—that's where Kim and Smith will be. It's only a few miles from Gabriel's, and Kimberly
could really use a friend right now.” I want to laugh at the note of shame in his voice. Fucking asshole.

“Tessa will be coming with me,” I tell him.

“Do you really want to bring her into a potentially violent situation . . . again?” he asks.

Yes. Yes, I do. No, I don't.
I don't want to be out of her sight, but she's seen enough violence from me to last a lifetime.

“You're only saying that because you want her to comfort your fiancée after you fucking cheated on her,” I growl.

“No.” Vance pauses. “I just want to talk to you alone, and I don't think it would be especially wise of us to have either woman present.”

“Fine. I'll fucking meet you in an hour.” I hang up the phone and turn to Tessa. “He wants you to hang out with Kim while we talk.”

“Does she know?” she quietly asks.

“Sounds like it.”

“Are you sure you want to meet with him? I don't want you to feel like you have to.”

“Do you think I should?” I ask her.

After a moment, she nods. “Yes. I do.”

“Then I'll meet him.” I pace across the room.

Tessa gets up from the bed and wraps her arms around my waist. “I love you, so much,” she says against my bare chest.

“I love you.” I'll never tire of hearing her say the words.

WHEN SHE STEPS
out of the bathroom, I nearly choke on my breath. “Fuck.” I cross the room in three steps.

“Does this look okay?” she asks, turning in a slow circle.

“Um, yeah.” I nearly choke again.
Okay?
Is she fucking insane? The white dress that she wore to my father's wedding looks even better on her now than it did then.

“I could barely zip it.” She smiles, embarrassed. She turns around and lifts her hair off of her back. “Can you zip the rest?”

I love that I've seen every inch of her hundreds of times, yet her cheeks still flush and she still holds on to some of her innocence. I haven't completely tainted her.

“Have you changed your mind? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.” Tessa's voice is soft.

“Yes, I'm sure. All I'm doing is giving him fifteen minutes to listen to whatever bullshit he has to say.” I sigh. I sure as hell don't want to go anywhere except to the damn airport, but after seeing the look on her face while she repacked that suitcase, I felt like I had to do this—not only for her, but for myself, too.

“I look like a fucking bum next to you,” I tell her, and she smiles, her eyes running over my face and body.

“Please!” She laughs. I look down at my black shirt and ripped jeans. “You could have shaved,” she comments with a smile. I can tell she's nervous and she's trying to lighten the mood. I couldn't be further from nervous . . . I just want to get this shit over with.

“You like this.” I take her hand and rub it along the stubble on my jaw. “Especially between your legs.” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her fingertips. She jerks her hand away as I wrap my lips around her index finger, and swats at my chest.

“You never stop,” she playfully scolds me, and for a moment I forget about all of the bullshit.

“Nope, and I never will.” I reach around to squeeze her ass with both hands, and she yelps.

The drive to Hampstead Heath, where Kimberly and Smith are staying, and to the park where we're meeting her, is nerve-racking. Tessa picks at her painted fingernails in the passenger seat and stares out the window.

“What if he didn't tell her? Should I?” she finally says as I pull through the gate. Despite her worry, I watch as her eyes take in
the scenic view of the park. “Wow,” she says, sounding many years younger than her age.

“I knew you'd like the Heath,” I say.

“It's beautiful. How could someplace like this be in the middle of London?” She gapes at the surrounding landscape, one of the few places in the city that haven't been polluted by smog and office towers.

“There she is . . .” I drive slowly toward the blonde who's sitting on a bench. Smith is sitting on another bench about twenty feet away with a piece of a toy train on his lap. That little boy is so weird.

“If you need anything at all, please call me. I'll find my way to you,” Tessa promises before getting out of the car.

“Same to you.” I gently pull her across the console to kiss her. “I mean it. If anything goes wrong, call me immediately,” I tell her.

“I'm more worried for you,” she whispers against my lips.

“I'll be fine. Now go tell your friend how big of a shitbag her fiancé is.” I kiss her again.

She frowns at me but stays quiet as she leaves the car and walks across the grass to meet Kimberly.

I
try to gather my thoughts as I cross the grass to meet Kimberly. I don't know what to say to her, and I'm terrified that she may not be aware of what happened last night. I don't want to be the one to tell her—that's Christian's responsibility—but I don't think I have it in me to pretend like nothing happened if it turns out that she doesn't know.

My question is immediately answered when she turns around to face me. Her eyes, though covered mostly in shadows, are swollen and sad.

“I'm so sorry,” I say. I sit down next to her on the bench, and she wraps her arms around me.

“I would cry, but I'm afraid I'm all dried up.” She tries to force a smile that doesn't meet her eyes.

“I don't know what to say,” I admit, glancing across the way at Smith, who, thankfully, is out of earshot.

“Well, you can start with helping me plan a double murder.” Kimberly gathers her shoulder-length hair in one hand and pushes it to the side.

“I can do that.” I half laugh. I wish I had even half of Kimberly's strength.

“Good.” She smiles and squeezes my hand. “You look really hot today,” she tells me.

“Thank you. You look beautiful,” I tell her. Bright sunlight
breaking through the overcast makes her pale blue beaded dress glitter.