Tessa Ever After (34 page)

He’s quiet for a minute, studying me. Finally, he says, “You gonna break her heart again?”

“I hope not. I have to get her back first.”

“That’s
if
she’ll take you back. You’ve got a lot of groveling
to do.” He walks to the fridge and pulls out two beers, handing one to me. “You can start tonight. Her, Paige, and Winter should be back soon.”

His words take a minute to sink in, and when they do, it feels like a dozen cars have been lifted off my chest. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the guy who broke my baby sister’s heart. I’d say we’re still nowhere near even.”

“Fair enough.”

“So since you’re here for her, can I assume you got your shit settled with your parents?”

“If by that you mean I no longer have any shit with them, then yeah.”

Adam’s eyebrows shoot up. “You walked away?”

“Yeah. Told them I didn’t want any part of the company. And I did it in front of basically everyone who means anything to them. They had their holiday party tonight. I’m afraid there’s no way for them to smooth this over. And they made it perfectly clear that if I did this, I’d be cut off from it all. I expect there’ll be an eviction notice on my door any day now.”

“Shit, man, what the hell are you going to do?” Adam asks.

“I’ve got a few ideas. I’ve got a call into the design firm I interned with during the summers. My mentor always said to call him if I ever wanted a job, so I’m hoping he wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass. If he wasn’t and I can actually get him to hire me, I’m not going to be making anything, really, to start, but it’ll be something. And it’ll be mine. And now that I’ve graduated—thanks to my parents’ ultimatum—” I offer with a wry smile, “I actually have access to the trust fund my grandpa left me. It’s
not huge, but it’s enough to resurrect the foundation my dad squashed.” The satisfaction from that thought alone is priceless.

“You know they’re totally going to shit a brick when they realize they can’t control you anymore. That you don’t need them,” Adam says with a smile on his face.

I mirror it. “It’s great, right?”

•   •   •

AFTER AN HOUR,
we finally hear a car pull up, then a few minutes later, there’s shuffling at the front door, then high-pitched giggles, at least one of which I recognize. Keys scrape in the lock, but it doesn’t ever catch. Finally, Cade goes over and opens the door to find Winter and Paige trying to support a still-giggling Tessa. Paige’s face is flushed red, her eyes a little glassy, and I have no idea how she’s helping to hold Tessa up, because it’s clear she’s closer to drunk than just tipsy.

Tessa’s arms are around Winter’s and Paige’s necks, her cheeks flushed, her hair a mess. She’s wearing my favorite pair of jeans—the ones that hang so low on her hips, I can see the dimples at the base of her spine, and I sort of want to kill every fucker who got to look at her tonight.

“What the hell?” Cade asks as he shuts the door, looking among the three girls as Winter tries to tug everyone inside.

She rolls her eyes. “You try wrangling these two when they don’t want to go anywhere. I’m just lucky I got them out before they started doing body shots.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” Paige protests as she wobbles along, Tessa’s arm still wrapped around her neck. “I said
one
more shot, that’s it!”

“Um, that was four shots ago,” Winter says as she slips out from under Tessa’s arm and takes off her coat. “You might want to get that one to bed.” She tips her head in Tessa’s direction. “She’s gonna be hurting in the morning.”

“Got it,” Paige says, offering a salute. Or what I assume is supposed to be a salute. “Getting this one to bed.” She tucks her arm farther under Tessa and starts dragging her in the direction of the kitchen—the opposite way of the bedrooms—when I finally step in. Tessa’s eyes are drooping, looking like she’s about thirty seconds from passing out, and Paige sure as hell isn’t going to be able to hold her up when she does.

“I got her.”

Paige squeaks when I lift Tessa into my arms and turn away. “Hey!” She comes around and points a finger right in my face, bumping it against my nose. “You’re not supposed to be here. No penises tonight! That’s the rule.”

“Yeah, well, sorry. Nothing I can do about that.”

She huffs and crosses her arms, glaring at me. “I hope she pukes on you.”

“She probably hopes she pukes on me, too. I’m sure she’ll call you tomorrow and let you know all about it,” I say over my shoulder as I walk around her. “Adam, can you make sure Paige gets home okay?”

Paige is putting up a fight, arguing about her ability to get herself home just fine, while I head down the hallway and into Tessa’s room. She’s totally out, her head resting on my chest, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, and I hate that she’s probably not even going to remember this in the morning.

Gently, I set her on the bed before I start the task of getting her out of her jacket and shoes. Even though I know she won’t
be very comfortable, I leave her in her jeans and shirt and move her under the blankets. She shifts, her eyes fluttering open, and she blinks at me, then heaves a sigh.

“I knew you’d come. Always . . . every night in my dreams.” Her words are slurred together, but I can still understand them, and each word sends a punch to my gut. “Can’t get a break from you. Just want a break . . .”

I reach up and brush her hair back from her face, and her eyes flutter closed. There are a thousand things I want to say, a thousand apologies I want to give, but she deserves better than me just suddenly showing up to say I’m sorry. She deserves everything she thought I’d never give her.

She deserves the happily ever after she’s been dreaming about as long as I’ve known her.

I get her a glass of water and some Advil and set both on her bedside table. Then I grab a pen and one of the Post-it notes she keeps on top of the stack of magazines by her bed, writing three short words on it and sticking it on her nightstand, hoping she’ll trust me enough one last time to give me this, even though I don’t deserve it.

THIRTY-THREE

tessa

I’ve dropped my comb four times, had to mix up more color solution twice because I underestimated what I’d need, and called a long-time client by the wrong name—all in the last seven hours. My brain just isn’t in it. And, if I’m being honest, it hasn’t been in it. Not for the last two weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since I woke up with the mother of all hangovers, still in my clothes from the night before, smelling like stale bar. That’s how long it’s been since I rolled over and saw the water and Advil on my nightstand waiting for me. Since I saw the bright pink note with three words scribbled in Jason’s handwriting.

Wait for me.

What the hell does that even mean? Wait for him for what? To come around? To grow up? To stop holding my heart prisoner? Because he has it. He has it under lock and key, completely
vulnerable to him. And I hate it and I love it; I want it to stop and I want it to go on forever.

According to Paige, Jason helped me to my room that night from what she could recall, though she wasn’t much better off than I was. And Cade wouldn’t tell me what Jason was doing there in the first place. All I have to go on is that tiny Post-it note that’s been like a weight in my pocket every day since he left it.

When the salon closes for the night, I walk with the other girls out to our cars. I let mine warm up for a minute before I head home, calling Paige on the way since she was watching Haley for me tonight.

“Hey, girlie,” she answers. “How was work?”

“Long. How was the terror?”

Paige laughs. “Awesome, as always. She crashed, though. Probably all that candy I fed her for dinner. She can just stay the night here and I’ll bring her by in the morning.”

“No, that’s okay. I can come get her.”

“Why? You’ll just have to get her all bundled up to go outside and then she’ll be crabby because you woke her up. It’s no big deal. She’s sprawled out in her princess sleeping bag, anyway.”

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely. Enjoy your night off. Go have some fun.”

I snort and shake my head, navigating my car into my driveway. “Yeah, you know me. Living it up, watching reruns of
How I Met Your Mother
until I fall asleep before eleven.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Call me tomorrow.”

Before I can decipher her cryptic statement, the line goes dead, and I shrug, slipping my phone in my pocket. Quickly, I make my way through the back door, turning on the light inside and unwrapping my scarf before I slip out of my coat. When my boots are off,
I don’t even take time to change, instead heading straight for the kitchen. I pull a glass from the cupboard and open the fridge for some wine. I reach in to grab it, intent on pouring myself a healthy serving, since I have nowhere to be tonight and no little girl I’m in charge of, but something catches my eye. There, stuck to the side of the bottle, is a bright pink Post-it note, just like the one Jason left me his note on a couple weeks ago. Just like the one he used to give me his key all those weeks ago.

With shaking hands, I pluck it from the bottle, my eyes roving over the words several times before they actually register.

I’ll give up my beer and drink wine every night if that’s what you want.

I shut the fridge, my eyebrows furrowed. When did he leave this? I try to think back to the last few nights, if the note was there and I somehow missed it, but I haven’t had a glass of wine since last weekend. I turn around, bracing myself on the counter when a flash of pink catches my eye. On the coffeemaker is another note.

I’ll do the early-morning donut run so you and Haley can have your Saturday morning ritual uninterrupted.

My lips twitch in the corner, my hand going to my heart as I glance up and notice another note stuck to the sliding glass door. My heart speeding up, I hold my breath and walk over to it, plucking it off the glass and reading the words Jason’s written.

I’ll take Haley out every time she wants to play in the snow. Because I love it, and because you don’t.

I spin around, my eyes darting to every surface I can see. I spot another flash of pink over on the TV, and with quick steps, make my way to it.

I’ll watch
10 Things I Hate About You
for the hundredth time just because it’s your favorite and I love watching you watch it.

By the time I make it to my bedroom, having scoured every other space in the house, I’ve collected a dozen more. They’ve ranged from silly—
I’ll let Haley paint my toenails whenever she wants (as long as she doesn’t tell Cade)
—to sweet—
I’ll take you out dancing whenever you want, just say the word.
My heart is pounding, threatening to jump out of my throat, and those butterflies that have been dormant for a few weeks are finally waking up from their slumber and fluttering around.

One last note—the only one in my bedroom—is on my nightstand, in the same location as the one from a couple weeks ago. The one where he asked me to wait for him. I lean over to read it.

Sorry it took me so long.

Directly below the words is an address I don’t know, and when I peel the note from my side table, a glint of metal underneath it catches my eye. Pressing my lips together, I pick it up, noticing the shape is different from the last key Jason gave me, but even still, my stomach dips and swirls, memories assaulting me of the last time I used a key he gave me.

With shaky hands, I sit back on my bed and pull my phone from my pocket to dial Paige.

“Why are you calling me?”

“What kind of way is that to answer the phone?” I ask, my voice about three octaves higher than it usually is.

“Why are you freaking out? No, never mind. I know the answer to that. Why aren’t you on your way to where you need to be?”

“What the hell?” I ask, my mouth dropping open. “How do you know I need to be anywhere?”

“Um, Haley’s with me tonight, isn’t she?”

I narrow my eyes, suspicion creeping in. “Paige . . .”