Tessa Ever After Page 5

  “No shit? That mean you’re gonna graduate this year?”

  “Looks like.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then I go to whatever school Dad deems appropriate to get my master’s and learn the ropes at the firm while I’m at it so I—and I’m quoting—don’t fuck everything up.”

  “So your dad’s still an asshole, then?”

  “Yep.”

  “On the bright side, think of all the secretaries you’ll be able to go through. That’ll really piss him off.”

  For the first time all day, I laugh. “You have a point.”

  “All right, I gotta run. Keep me posted on the Tess thing.”

  “There’s no Tess thing.”

  “Like I said . . . Later.”

  I shake my head as I end the call, knowing he’s wrong. He has to be. There can’t be anything between me and Tess . . . period. She is the very definition of off-limits.

  And a night out is exactly the thing I need to remind me of that.

  tessa

  I slip out of Haley’s room, having just tucked her in, and head into the living room. I have time to do only a quick pickup of the shit lying all over the floor before the back door swings open. I glance up to see my best friend, Paige, standing there with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. “Hey,” I say as I go over and give her a hug. “What’s with the ice cream?”

  “I broke up with Tom.”

  “Who’s Tom?” I follow behind her as she heads straight for the kitchen.

  She pulls out two spoons, offering me one, then uncaps the container and digs in. Despite partaking in my ice cream obsession with me, she never manages to gain an ounce. Or if she does, it goes straight to the right places—the places that give her the perfect hourglass shape. The first time I met her, I had her pegged as a snooty, real-life Barbie doll with her long, wavy blond hair, her bright blue eyes, and a figure that makes girls hate her. And then she opened her mouth and swore like a sailor, and we’ve been best friends ever since. Around a mouthful of ice cream, she says, “I met him last weekend when I was out.”

  “And you were seeing each other seriously enough that you had to have a breakup conversation? I didn’t even know about him.”

  “Well, I stayed at his place the whole weekend . . . and a couple times this week.”

  I roll my eyes and scoop out some ice cream. “When are you going to realize you’re not going to meet a good guy in a freakin’ bar?”

  “Hey, Winter and Cade met in a bar,” she says, pointing her spoon at me.

  “That’s different. She worked there, and Cade’s not a sleazy asshole.”

  “I’m just saying . . . you never know what kind of guys are going to be there.”

  “But you do know! They’re the same assholes you’ve been spending nearly every weekend with for the last six months!”

  She waves me off before digging in for another bite. “Whatever.”

  “So what was wrong with this one?”

  Scrunching up her nose, she shudders a little. “He left his used floss on the sink. If that’s how he is after only a weekend with each other, can you imagine how he’d be after a year? No thank you.” She scoops another bite and around the mouthful asks, “How about you? Any keepers in the sea of online dating?”

  I groan, slumping in my seat. My thoughts about wanting someone around to share the burden, someone around to make the nights less lonely come back to me, and I’m even more defeated. Because I haven’t gone out with anyone I can see a future with. “I don’t know. They’re all . . . fine. I mean, on paper they’re perfect. And then I meet them, and I . . .”

  “Want to punch yourself in the face?”

  Laughing, I say, “Something like that. I just haven’t clicked with anyone. I want to click with someone, you know? Where when that first kiss happens, it’s like all that cheesy stuff you see in the movies.” I sigh. “It’s stupid, but I want to be swept off my feet.”

  Paige just stares at me, blinking a couple times. She shakes her head and sighs. “Sweetie, it’s time to put the romance novels down, m’kay? Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life. Hell, I’m just thrilled if the guy gets me off before he passes out on top of me, to hell with sweeping me off my feet. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

  I cough, nearly choking on the bite of ice cream I just inhaled. “God, Paige.”

  “What? It’s the truth. Haven’t these guys ever heard the saying ‘ladies first’?”

  “Yeah, well, at least you’re having sex. I’d just be happy to be getting any.”

  “And, see? That right there is exactly why my ass is going to be at the bar again this weekend, searching for the elusive Mr. Right Now. I get grumpy without sex.”

  “I don’t even remember sex.”

  “Who was the last guy?”

  “David.”

  “David? Jesus, Tess, that was over a year ago. You got any cobwebs up there?” she asks, twirling her spoon in my direction.

  I snort. “Oh, you’re hilarious.”

  She shrugs and gives me a self-satisfied smirk. “I think so. But seriously, we need to work on that.”

  “What do you think I’m doing? I have date number two with someone on Friday. He didn’t do anything for me the first time, but maybe . . .” I shrug.

  “And who is this someone?”

  “He’s the one I went out with a couple weeks ago. Greg, the orthodontist.”

  She scrunches up her nose. “Oh, honey. An orthodontist is never going to fuck all those cobwebs out of you.”

  Laughing, I turn away and put my spoon in the sink. “You keep going to the bars and finding your losers and leave me and my nice guys out of it.”

  “Whatever you say. Let me know when you’re ready for someone a little more dangerous.”

  Without my permission, my mind immediately conjures up an image of Jason. From his carelessly mussed dark hair to his mischievous eyes to his ever-present smirk, he’s got the looks and the charisma, not to mention the reputation . . . He’s exactly the kind of dangerous she’s talking about.

  And that’s exactly the reason I’ll never go for a guy like him. I’ve done the dangerous thing before. Tried the whole taming-a-bad-boy thing—and it got me pregnant and alone at seventeen.

  Regardless of how boring these nice guys are, it doesn’t matter. Because I’ve already been down the road of heartbreak and loneliness, and I have absolutely no interest in traveling it again.

  SIX

  tessa

  After spending a shit-ton of money on an after-hours call to the plumber, plus the repairs needed, my budget this month is shot. The last thing I need to do is shell out money on a completely unnecessary slice of white chocolate raspberry cheesecake. But that’s exactly why I’m going to do, because it’s been one thing after another for too long, and now to top it all off, I had a giant block of cancellations at the salon this morning. I totally deserve this plate of deliciousness and all the calories that go with it, and I’m not going to feel guilty about it. I’m also not going to feel guilty about eating it before I even delve into the salad currently sitting off to the side.

  Despite being midday, the café isn’t as busy as I would’ve thought it’d be. There are a handful of students inside, every one of them with a laptop open in front of them. I generally hate getting lunch by myself, though it’s rare I ever actually have the option to do so. I hardly ever get a minute to myself to just breathe, either too busy with work or Haley or life, and I want to bask in the feeling of having absolutely nothing to do.

  Although I might do better if I weren’t sitting idle, because whenever I do, I automatically think about everything that’s happened in the last couple weeks—in the last several months—and then I’m right back at square one, feeling overwhelmed.

  Even after my talk with Cade earlier this week, after his reassurances that everything is fine, that I’m doing fine, I still don’t feel it. I feel lost and in over my head, and I don’t know what to do
to make it change. I wish I had a pause button for life—that I could just freeze everything for a little bit to try and get caught up. To try and feel like I actually have my shit together.

  The bell on the front door jingles as I take another giant bite of my cheesecake, staring out the window at the people walking around campus. I hardly ever get over here anymore, not since Cade graduated, but while he was still in school here, he got me hooked on the desserts in this place. And even though there are half a dozen little salad-and-sandwich shops that have acceptable desserts within two miles of the salon, it’s totally worth the ten-minute drive to come to this one.

  “Tess?”

  With a giant bite brought to my lips, my mouth open wide to eat it, I startle and freeze, like the food police have come to haul me off for eating my dessert first. Instead of the food police, Jason is standing in front of me, an amused smirk on his face and his eyes nearly dancing right out of his head when he pointedly glances at the dessert on my fork, then to my clearly untouched salad.

  “Oh, shut up. I’ve had a bad day. I’m an adult. I’m allowed to eat dessert first, you know.”

  He chuckles, holding his hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to say anything. Those eyes and that smirk spoke volumes.”

  He grabs the chair across from me and pulls it out before sitting down, dropping his bag next to him on the floor and shrugging out of his coat. “Bad day, huh? What’s going on? Haley give you a rough time this morning?”

  I drop my fork full of sugar back to the plate, sighing. “No, she was great. It’s just everything—all of last week and then I had a huge chunk of cancellations at the salon this morning.” I pick up my fork again and wave it in front of his face. “I totally need this. That’s why I drove all the way over here.”

  “Again, I didn’t say anything. Eat your dessert first. In fact, I’ll do the same. Be right back.”

  He pushes off from the table and goes up to order something. He rubs a hand through his hair as he looks up at the menu on the wall above him, then braces his arms on either side of him at the counter. His back flexes as he leans forward, the muscles clearly visible through the thin cotton shirt he’s wearing, and without my permission, my eyes drop to take in his ass. It’s a great ass—especially in those jeans. He shifts, and that subtle movement jolts me out of whatever ass-induced trance I was just in, because seriously? Was I seriously checking out Jason’s ass? I haven’t done that since I was a starry-eyed fourteen-year-old girl.

  I snap my head away from looking in his direction and stare blankly at the empty seat across from me. The conversation I had with Paige last night is still fresh in my mind, about me needing someone dangerous.

  Someone like Jason.

  He’s the epitome of the kind of guy I’ve stayed far away from, ever since Nick. I don’t touch guys like that with a ten-foot pole. Guys who are irresponsible and carefree and who’ve had more sexual partners than there were students in my graduating class. For some people, that’s fine. For Paige, that’s fine. That’s exactly the kind of guy she wants, and I don’t begrudge her for it. I’m glad she’s happy. But I couldn’t be happy with someone like that—with an arrangement like that. I never could have no-strings-attached sex. My heart always gets involved.

  The last thing I need right now is a complication like Jason. And that’s exactly what he’d be: a complication of the greatest proportion.

  I have enough of those to last me a lifetime.

  jason

  Tess is deep in thought when I set my tray on the table across from her. Her eyes snap up to mine, and I have to remind myself that this isn’t a big deal. We’re friends. Friends get lunch together all the time. They hang out and talk and eat together, and it’s no big deal. I’d do it with Cade or Adam without a second thought.

  Except if I grabbed lunch with either of those two, I definitely wouldn’t feel a twitch in my jeans when they pursed their lips around a straw and sucked . . .

  Clearing my throat, I avert my eyes and take a seat, occupying myself with sorting out my lunch. Dessert isn’t really my thing—unless it’s whipped cream licked off the smooth stomach of a willing partner—so I had no idea what to get. I just ordered something different than what Tess had that I thought she might like.

  “Ohhh, you got the crème brûlée. That’s another good one, but I don’t ever get it because I love this too much.” She holds up a bite before she puts it in her mouth, and then her lips wrap around the fork, her eyes flutter closed, and she lets out the softest hum in her throat, and Jesus fucking Christ, I’m hard as a rock in two-point-three seconds.

  “So good.” She opens her eyes and looks at me, her eyebrows rising when she notices me staring. “Did I get it all over my face?” Grabbing a napkin, she brings it up and wipes the corners of her mouth, and I almost laugh at what she’d do if I fessed up to what I was actually so focused on. She’d be mortified and maybe a little offended. Ever since that crush she used to have on me when she was fourteen faded away, she hasn’t looked at me with any sort of interest.

  Waving her off, I pick up the sandwich I ordered and say, “No, I was just zoning out, thinking about classes and shit.”

  She hums, taking another bite. “How’s that going, anyway? Did you decide what you’re going to do about your parents?”

  And maybe I should have told her I was picturing my dick in her mouth instead of that fork because then we wouldn’t be talking about the rock and hard place I’m stuck between, and the inevitable future I don’t want any part of.

  I take a huge bite so I don’t have to say much and offer a shrug and a mumbled, “What’s there to do? No changing their minds.”

  She stares at me, her eyes narrowing. “You know, for someone who’s so stubborn, you sure are bending over for them without much of a fight.”

  “What kind of fight should I give, Tess? The kind that gets me permanently kicked out of my family?”

  She shakes her head and says softly, “They wouldn’t do that.”

  “They would, and we both know it. The only reason they bent on me going to art school in the first place was because my grandpa paid the first year against their wishes. After he died, they didn’t think it’d look good to have me transfer schools. Again. They only placated me because in the end, they were getting their way—having me at the head of the company. And that’s something they won’t bend on. Having no son is better than having a disappointment of one who can’t get a good job—at least in their eyes—to save his life.” I grab a couple chips and shrug, affecting nonchalance, though I feel anything but. I put on a good front, but the truth is, I’m still hoping some sort of promise will shine through from my parents, giving me a glimpse of what it was like before my grandpa died. I’m not sure I’m ready to just throw that away, even if they are.

  We’re both quiet as we eat, and I never noticed before how comfortable it’s always been between the two of us. Even before this attraction on my end started, we’d always been able to just hang out—talking or not talking. I’ve gone out with more girls than I can count, and while they’ve always scratched an itch, it’s never been as easy as it is with Tessa.

  When she’s nearly done with her salad, she says, “If you don’t want to be the CEO or president or whatever your dad wants you to be, just tell them. Talk to them. They might surprise you.”

  “They’re not going to surprise me, Tess. You know how I know that? Because it’s going to be sophomore year in high school all over again, when I wanted to get involved in the web design club and they wouldn’t sign off on the papers. They made me run for student council instead.”

  Her eyes grow wide and she stops picking at her salad as she looks up at me. “I thought that was your idea. You made it seem like you loved it.”

  “Yeah, like sixteen-year-old me is going to fess up to my parents pulling all the strings behind the curtain? Of course I acted like I loved it.”

  “Well, that was a long time
ago. Maybe their reaction would be different now.”

  But based on my father’s words during his ultimatum, on how he feels about the “arts and crafts” school I go to, I know that’s a futile hope. My future’s already been mapped out for me, whether I like it or not. And no amount of negotiating will get me a different outcome.

  SEVEN

  jason

  Even though I know how the conversation will go before I show up, I still try. Tessa’s words have stayed with me since our lunch yesterday, and I can’t get them out of my head.

  Which is how I find myself at my dad’s ostentatious building, walking down the halls to stares and stiff smiles as I make my way toward his corner office.

  “Hi, Jason,” the receptionist says with a smile. She’s blond, late twenties, if I had to guess, and probably one of the reasons my father spends a lot of his evenings here instead of at home. “Your dad doesn’t have anything on his schedule right now. Let me just buzz him and make sure he’s free.”

  “Thanks.”

  As she picks up the phone and calls him, I stand with my hand in the front pocket of my jeans, looking around the space at all the trimmings that are unnecessary. Just like in my parents’ house. God forbid there’s no outward show of their wealth. Can’t have people thinking they’re not raking in buckets of money.

  Pulling me out of my thoughts, she says, “You can go ahead and go in,” and gestures me down the hall toward the closed door of my dad’s office.

  I don’t bother to knock before I go inside. He’s sitting behind his desk, the floor-to-ceiling windows providing the backdrop to his stiff shoulders set in his gray suit.

  “Jason,” he says, glancing up only long enough to give me an appraising look before he returns his eyes to the paperwork in front of him. “Next time you come here, I’ll expect you to be in something more presentable than jeans and a T-shirt. This isn’t the gym.”