CHAPTER 18

Birds outside my window wake me. I glance at the clock and realize it’s almost eleven in the morning. But something feels off, and I roll over and realize why. Timothy is in my bed. Last night comes rushing back. My emotions are in tatters from him leaving and coming back. From everything I’ve made it mean. But he’s here now. He came back. He stayed. I was enough for Timothy. I am enough for this boy I want to drag from the shadows, live in the light with. I shift up onto an elbow. Why does he have to be so beautiful? I lean over him and run a hand through his hair, soaking in every part of his face. That’s nowhere near enough to satisfy me, so I bend closer, inhaling his scent. My lips brush his jaw, the stubble decadently rough against my skin. “Stop that.” His voice is a sleepy groan that vibrates through me, settling between my thighs. I grin. “No.” I continue the exploration, moving down his neck, his collarbone, the curve of his shoulder. My hand brushes his cut stomach where his undershirt’s ridden up, and a tug of desire pulls between my thighs. Biting my lip, I press my palm to that skin, slide it up an inch under the hem of his shirt. I curl closer into him, taking a deep inhale at his neck, memorizing his scent. “I mean it.” There’s a warning edge this time. I like Warning Edge Timothy, especially when he’s in my bed. “Why?” He rolls me over so he’s on top, and my heart thuds in my chest as he stares down at me. He might be half-awake, but he’s all man, all power, all strength. All sexy. “Because then I’m gonna have to get you back.” I want that so bad. “I’m still mad at you,” I breathe. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.” His touch skims down my side. Then his mouth lowers to mine. We’re so close to kissing when he pulls back. “We can’t keep this up,” he murmurs against my lips. “Yes, we can.” I tip my face up, straining, and he covers my mouth with a hand. I glare at him. “Your Dad and Haley are down the hall. We’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” I press my lips to his palm, the same palm I read at that carnival three years ago. His grip loosens, and I take advantage, kissing down his fingers. “I don’t care,” I say when there’s enough room to speak, “I’d tell them it wasn’t your fault. That since the moment I walked in on you naked, I was lost to the world.” I pull the tip of his finger into my mouth. Timothy’s jaw clenches, and he lets out the most delicious groan. I suck harder, and his hips shift over mine until I feel him between my legs. Oh, shit. Yes, please. I felt him against my ass last night, but it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near. “You want me to make you scream under your Dad’s roof,” he rasps. I release his finger with a pop, my head swimming. “Or the pool house. I’m not picky.” He tosses a pillow at me, and I laugh. “I’m serious,” he presses, a look of fascination on his face. “Tell me what you think it’d be like.” I stare at him. “Beautiful. Reckless. Undeniable. Painful, not because it’s my first time, but because everything with us seems to—“ “We’re done here.” He shifts off the bed, reaching for his tux pants on the floor. I shoot up in bed. “Because I’m a virgin?” I try to sound dismissive but can’t quite hide the vulnerability underneath. “That’s discrimination on the basis of sexual experience.” He rounds on me, and I’m pressed back against the sheets. “Because no matter how long we’ve been friends, when we fuck…” His voice is a dangerous promise. “I will take you apart. And when I’m done, you’ll beg for me to do it again.” His wolfish smile is feral. His finger hooks in the waistband of my pajama pants and tugs it for a brief, beautiful moment of possibility before releasing it to snap back against my stomach. I’m speechless. I’m never speechless, but I am now, and Tyler seems to think it’s cute because he drops a smug kiss at the corner of my mouth before rising again. My phone buzzes on the dresser, and I jump. AVERY: Are we still meeting to study? Shit. I forgot. Movement by the window has me dropping the phone. “What are you doing?” “Leaving.” Tyler lifts the window frame. I trip across the room. “You’re not going out that way.” He swings one leg out before pausing to cock a dark brow at me. “You want me to walk out of your room and through the house? Past your Dad and Haley?” Each word is said matter-of-factly, but I’m starting to catch on. “We’re cool, but we’re not that cool.” I stick my head out the window, looking down nervously at the garden one level down. “Good thing there aren’t roses on this side of the house,“ he says. “I was thinking I hope there aren’t any music box pieces.” Timothy swings the other leg out, chuckling. “To be continued,” he murmurs before dropping down. “Tim?” I call when he hits the ground. He looks up at me, expectant, and I bite the inside of my cheek. “I like you, Tim” I say over the racing of my heart. “A lot. Maybe even more than cheese fries.” “Are you okay?” Avery asks as she sinks into the seat across from me at the cafe. “I saw Timothy at prom with Carla. He said it was to save your ass, and—” “I know. And it was.” Avery shifts forward, lowering her voice. “What the hell?” I explain about the letter from my mom, and her face looks more and more shocked. “Are you going to contact her?” “I haven’t decided yet,” I admit. “And you and Timothy?” “We’re good, I think.” “If he hurts you, I’m going to cut off his balls.” I grin. “You’re the best.” Timothy’s letting me in. I felt it last night. But it comes with a price. Every time he lowers that shield and I get further inside, the world that’s not him gets a little blurrier, a little more out of focus. “How was prom with Brandon?” Her mouth curves. “It was unexpected… and nice, aside from the whole Timothy thing. The prom part and after.” “Wait. You fucked Brandon Bowers last night?” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not a big deal.” “It’s a huge deal. Was he? A huge deal?” Avery laughs. “Yes, and he was really sweet.” I hang on every word, truly happy for my friend. “All right. Enough about boys. How’s your essay for Columbia?” I make a face. “I started it. I wondered if they had a performing arts minor. I’ve been putting so much into this musical, and now that it’s really mine, I want more.” With the window for my application essay in the background on my computer, I do some searching online. Vanier University looks incredible. The acceptance process is rigorous, the odds of being admitted dismal. But the tug of fascination won’t go away. “Look who it is.” My head snaps up as Carla and her minions cross the cafe to hover over our table. “How was prom?” I smile. “Your date looked hot.” “Hope you enjoyed watching him walk out the door.” “Not as much as I enjoyed watching him walk back in.” Her face turns purple. She knows what Timothy did but won’t admit it, not in front of her crew. “Too bad you missed the dance, Little Virgin.” I bite my lip. “The after-party more than made up for it.” Her hand tightens on the strap of her bag. I want her to know he’s mine. She never had a shot, and now she never will. “We’re not done, Emily!” she breathes. “This thing between us isn’t over until opening night. Mark my word!” I reach for my tea. “You know what, Carla? I honestly wanted you to like me once. I thought if I did the right thing, you’d approve of me. I’d fit in.” Her brows pull together in surprise. “But your family isn’t perfect either,” I continue, thinking of the whispered rumors about her Dad’s addiction, her Mom’s affairs. From the way her attention flicks from me to the minions and back, she’s wondering if I know. She’s wondering if they do. I won’t spill her secrets. We all have them. I’d never hurt anyone like that, no matter what they did to me. “You could have some compassion,” I tell her, “but instead, you push people down so that no matter how far you fall, you’re still on top. “This thing between us is over because it takes two people to fight and I’m out.” I turn back to my computer, catching Avery’s eye on the way. Once I hear the footsteps fade as Carla and her minions leave, my friend gives in to the grin. “Holy shit, you’re a badass, Emily.” The rest of the day, I study with Avery, swim until my muscles burn, and mess around with some poetry. But I can’t wait for dinner, because Timothy texted to say he’d be there. Now he’s sitting across from me, and we’re eating lasagna, and I’d give everything I have if my Dad and Haley and Sophia would disappear so I could crawl across the table and ask him to please do that thing with his tongue that makes me want him so. Fucking. Much. “You need a dye job,” I say between bites. He’s wearing a black Henley that hugs his muscles in a decidedly groan-worthy way, and the blue in his hair’s fading. Timothy chews thoughtfully, swallows. “You wanna help?” His voice is sexy. All of him’s sexy. “Sure.” “How was prom?” Haley asks Timothy. “Fine.” “Better than fine,” I correct. “He won prom king.” Now I’m the focus of Timothy’s deep brown eyes, and warmth starts at my toes and fills every part of me until I’m crossing my legs. “Congratulations,” Haley says warmly. “Doesn’t matter much if you can’t pick your court.” My chest warms, and I almost don’t hear Haley ask me, “Are you ready for dress rehearsal tomorrow?” “Think so.” I’ve practiced everything to death, and I’m going to go through it again in my mind tonight. I’d rather spend my time with Timothy, but that’ll keep. “Glad to hear it. I feel as if I’ve barely seen you this weekend. What’ve you been up to?” “Um, Avery and I worked on school applications today. Dad fell asleep and missed all of Endgame.” “Not all of it.” My gut twists sharply. I turn toward him, and there’s an intensity on his face that cuts through the dreamy haze. Did he hear Timothy come home? See him? My heart stops in my chest. If he did, that could ruin everything in one moment of stupidity. If he did, Timothy would be gone already. The thought isn’t as reassuring as I’d hoped. But Dad doesn’t comment the rest of dinner, and the conversation turns to cute things Sophia’s doing, whether I’m going to work at the library again this summer, and a new charity project my Dad’s taking on. After we finish dinner, I help Haley clean up, then volunteer to take Sophia for a bit before her bedtime. I’ve just put her on my hip when my phone buzzes. TIMOTHY: I better hear you practicing through the window tonight. This one-handed typing thing must be an acquired mom skill, but I manage to respond without dropping my sister. EMILY: I’m doing a mental run-through. TIMOTHY: I’m doing some mental run-through of my own. Okay, so now I have to leave time for getting off before bed. Not that it’s a hardship. I’d probably be thinking of him anyway. The sound of a guitar from my Dad’s office pulls me in that direction. Normally he does paperwork there, but tonight, he’s playing. I watch him for a minute, the way he and his guitar speak their own language. It’s beautiful. Sophia’s squeal has him looking toward the doorway. “It’s nice hearing you play,” I tell him. “You don’t do it enough.” “I’m retired.” He shifts back on the stool. “It’s not my life anymore. You girls are.” “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.” Dad lifts the guitar over his head, sets it on a stand in the corner. “You’ll understand someday.” Sophia squirms, and I shift her, stroking her soft pink cheek until she smiles. “She’s perfect, isn’t she? When do we get less perfect?” Dad comes closer, folding his arms over his chest. “Tell me what’s wrong.” My chest aches. “I want to take music lessons. Theory. Voice. Tyler’s been helping me“—his brows furrow, and I press on—“but it’s not enough. I know you don’t want to teach me, and that’s probably for the best because we’d fight the whole time, but I want to learn.” I expect him to turn me down, and he looks as if he’s on the verge. “If I say no, you’ll find a way to get them anyway.” “Yes.” He rubs a hand through his hair. “All right, then.” My chest expands. Sophia spits out her soother, and my dad grabs it off the floor. “If you five-second rule that right now,” I warn, “I’m going to have to tell her when she’s seventeen and wants to know why her life sucks. ‘Dirty-floor soothers.’ That’s what I’ll say.” His eyes crinkle as he goes to his desk. “Haley’d have my back.” He pulls out a new soother from the top drawer, passes it to my fussy sister who latches on like it’s life itself. “Besides, you never had it easy, and you turned out all right.” He looks at me as if waiting for me to disagree with him. I can’t. Tonight, despite the emotional turmoil of the last forty-eight hours, I don’t feel like I’m bleeding out. The road ahead isn’t easy, but there’s a glimmer of hope. I cross to him and reach up to hug him with my free arm. He hugs me back. “Tell me one thing,” he murmurs. “Should I be worried?” “What do you mean?” I ask when I pull back. “Dropping classes. Staying out late. Swimming in your school clothes.” I smile. “I’m okay. I promise.” He searches my expression. “There’s nothing you want to tell me.” “No. Night, Dad.” “Emily.” I hesitate at the door, and he looks at me along time before nodding to Sophia. “Give her to me. It’s a school night. You have things to do.” I think of Timothy in the pool house. I wonder if he knows. But he doesn’t