Wreck Me
Page 38

But I can’t get that far.
I fear that Avery won’t look at me the same.
Fear she won’t look at me at all.
So I stay silent instead.
And Avery speaks first.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Tristan,” she says after I finish. “Parents can be so… cruel.”
“Yeah, they can,” I agree then force a small smile. “You’re a good mom, though. The way you are with Mason… he’s lucky.”
She frowns. “He’s lucky now, but I’ve had my moments of f**king up. I worry, you know, that what happened between Conner and I is going to affect him later on in life. I wish I could have walked away from all of that sooner…”
“But the important part is that you did walk away,” I say, thinking about Delilah. If only she could have walked away.
“And the important part is you haven’t done drugs in over four months, so that bad Tristan you kept describing to me moments ago doesn’t exist anymore. And if your parents can’t see that, then f**k them.” As Avery gets up from my lap, it leaves my body feeling chilly. I almost reach out to grab her and bring her back. “Now, come on. We need some cheering up.”
“Where are we going?” I ask as she takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.
“I’m not sure,” she says with a shrug. “But does it really matter?”
As I look into her eyes, I realize it doesn’t. Nothing really does when I’m with her.
***
A half an hour later, we’re eating take out on the side of the house in the shade. Clouds are rolling in, but a faint trickle of sunlight still drifts down on us and heats the air.
“You know, it’s been pretty cool helping put this house up,” Avery remarks, nibbling on a french fry as she stares at the side of the house. “It’s kind of like watching the foundation for a new life get created.”
“Yeah, I guess it kind of is,” I agree with her insightfulness then take a bite of my burger.
“Does it ever get old?” She adjusts her shorts over the bottom of her ass cheeks before sitting down on the ground beside me. “Building houses, I mean?”
I stretch out my legs, admiring the view of her as I reach for my soda. “I never really found it too exciting in the beginning, but now it’s kind of growing on me.”
She rests back against the wall as she picks up another fry. “Well, I think it’s very fulfilling. You get to get up every day to build something for someone who really needs it. Give them walls to protect them from the storms, the heat, the world. I just think it’s so amazing, and trust me, the families who get the houses do too.”
I get lost in the sound of her voice as my gaze traces her full lips and the diamond just above, the soft flutter of her eyelashes, the way her hair floats around her face in the breeze. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds pretty amazing.” You’re pretty amazing.
“That’s because it is amazing.” She stuffs the fry into her mouth and then amusedly grins. “Just like you.”
Unable to help myself, my hand strays to her leg and my fingers lightly brush across the faint freckles on her upper thigh. I faintly smile when she shivers. “You know, if you were a guy, you’d be the kind who uses cheesy pickup lines on women all the time.”
“You mean I’d be you?” Her lips mockingly make an O, then she covers her mouth with her hand.
“Ha, ha.” Shaking my head, I slide my hand up to her waist and haul her closer to me.
“Although, it wouldn’t be that bad to be like you,” she says. “You’re one of the good guys.”
Her compliment makes me uncomfortable, so I dodge around it. “Speaking of Conner, have you heard from him lately?”
Her features harden at the mention of his name. “No, not since that night at work.”
“Good.” I dither before I ask my next question. “What about Taylor?”
After Avery stopped crying on her birthday, she broke down and told me about her worries, one that included her half-sister Taylor who contacted her out of the blue. The fact that she’s told me all these things makes me feel even worse since I should be telling Avery everything, not just the parts that will allow her to still like me.
“I still haven’t decided what I want to do about her.” Her mood deflates, and I feel like a dick for bringing it up. “I mean, I haven’t seen or heard from my dad in eighteen years, and suddenly, his daughter is contacting me.”
“Maybe she just wants to get to know you. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“But I’m not so sure I want to get to know her, especially if my dad’s had a relationship with her.”
“Yeah, but having a sister could be a good thing.”
Her frown deepens, and then her eyes pop wide as she slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God, I must sound so selfish right now after you’ve—”
“Lost my sister,” I finish for her. “You can say it. I’m not going to break. And that’s not what I was getting at. I was merely implying that maybe you should try to look past the father aspect and focus on the sister part.”
She nods her head. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” I joke then sit up straighter when my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. It reminds me that there’s something I wanted to give her today, so I set my burger aside. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you. Or for Mason, anyway.”
Her eyes light up like she just won the f**king lottery. “Really?”
The look makes me feel guilty because I don’t deserve it. Still, I nod then retrieve the miniature toy car that’s tucked in my pocket with my phone. “So, while I was there the other day, he made a point to tell me that one day he was going to be a famous race car driver.”
“He’s such a goof,” she says, glowing with pride, the same thing she does every time anyone mentions her son. It shows her love for him, like a mother should have for their son. I like her that much more because of it. “He wants to be everything.”
“Maybe he will be everything,” I tell her, opening my hand. “I saw this car in the store and thought you could give it to him because it looks like the one he described as what he was going to drive.”
She freezes then whispers, “Wow, you really did get him something.”
“I said I did.” I worry I’ve done something wrong, like crossed a boundary or something. “But you don’t have to give it to him if you don’t want to.”
“No… I’m just…” She stares at the car with uncertainty. “I don’t know what I am, but thank you.” She plucks the car from my hand and faintly smiles before putting the toy into her pocket. “He’s going to think you’re the coolest person ever.”
“That’s because I am.” I nudge her side with my elbow.
“You really are.” She stares at me in a way that causes my pulse to quicken in both fear and desire.
Grabbing her by the hips, I drag her closer to me, needing her nearer, worried that at any moment she’s going to discover my sins and leave me. “Come here.”
Her lips quirk as I zero in on her mouth, and then she surrenders into my pull, our bodies colliding as our lips reunite. We haven’t kissed since her birthday, and f**k, we need to start doing it more because it’s f**king incredible. So full of want. Heat. Need. Life.
I feel completely alive for the first time in…
Well, forever.
As our kiss deepens, my fingers travel around to the back of her neck, to her tattoo she still has yet to let me see. The moment I brush the inked flesh, she shivers and shifts her neck away from my hand.
“Not yet,” she whispers, then continues to explore my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip.
“When?” I ask, gasping for air, completely consumed by her as I tug at her hair, pleading for her to get closer even though our bodies are already melded together.
“I’m not sure,” she breathes against my mouth. “Ask me later.”
It’s the first time she’s said not yet, which means she’s starting to consider letting me see the tattoo. She’s starting to trust me more, and I grow even guiltier for still having secrets.
I want to tell her.
But I can’t lose her.
“I’m not as amazing as you think,” I whisper helplessly.
“Yes, you are.” She swings her leg over me and straddles my lap.
My c**k instantly goes hard as she grinds her h*ps against mine. I respond by gripping her waist and grinding back against her. At any moment, someone could walk around the house and see us, but I don’t care.
About anything other than her.
This.
Us.
I just wish I deserved it.
She moans as I bite down on her lip, her head falling back as my hands cup her br**sts from the outside of her shirt.
“You’re an utterly amazing person who builds houses and makes me feel safe… who lets me cry in front of him… who gives Mason little toy cars… and who has the most amazing tongue ever...”
But I’m not who you think I am.
I wish I could say it aloud and that she’d be okay with it.
With me.
With my past.
But I can’t bring myself to tell her, so instead I remain silent, pretending to be someone else, being an imposter.
***
Later that day, I’m back at the motel. It’s late and I’m alone, feeling like shit. Avery is at work, and Nova and Quinton are out. Me, I have the night off. So I do some schoolwork then end up watching television and drown in my past sins until Nova walks into the room, looking bushed and bleary eyed, her shirt un-tucked and her shoelaces untied.
“Is everything okay?” I ask as she tosses the keys onto the table.
She nods as she flops down face first on the bed beside mine. “I’m just so tired… and I’ve been thinking… about Delilah… I just wish things wouldn’t have ended that way for her. And sometimes I feel guilty.”
I pick up the remote and turn the television off. “Yeah, me too.” I sit up and swing my legs over the bed, planting my feet onto the carpet. “But why do you feel guilty?”
She turns her head to look at me. “Because I knew about Dylan and didn’t help her. I tried to talk some sense into her a couple of times, but that’s it.”
“We all did that, Nova. And if anyone should feel guilty, it’s me. I lived with her and heard the fighting every day.”
“Yeah, but you had your own problems.”
“Problems I brought on myself.”
“Hey, I’ve been there, too.” She pushes up to sit on the mattress with the comforter tangled around her. “Drugs are easy to sink into. It’s the coming out part that’s hard.”
“Yes, it is,” I mutter, glancing out the window. “It still feels like drugs control my life so much.”
“Tristan, it’s normal to crave them still. And what happened with the neighbor… We’ve all had slipups.”
“I’m not talking about the neighbor,” I mutter, looking back at her.
Her brows knit. “Then what are you talking about?”
I shrug, staring at the space of carpet in front of my feet. “Some of the stuff I did… it still haunts me.”
“Do you want to talk about it? You used to talk to me about stuff all the time.”
“I know.” I lift my gaze to her. “But talking to you about it isn’t going to solve the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“Talking to Avery… because that’s the real problem… telling her about some of the things I did.”
Nova scoots to the edge of the bed. “You’re not a bad person.”
“You might not be saying that if you knew the truth,” I say miserably. “If you knew some of the stuff I did.”
She shakes her head. “You may think that, but trust me, Quinton told me a lot of bad stuff that happened while he was living on the streets. And, while I found a lot of it horrifying, I still wanted to be with him because I love him.”
“But Avery and I aren’t in love. We’re just friends.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Even if that’s true, if she was a real friend, she wouldn’t think less of you. And from what I know about her, I don’t think she will. She has her own shit, too, you know.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter, still unconvinced.
“I’m just giving you some things to think about.” She gets up from the bed and pats my shoulder. “I think, when it all comes down to it, it’s really up to you and how close to Avery you want to be. If you care for her and want to be with her, then tell her. If you don’t, then don’t worry about it. We’ll be gone in a month anyway.” She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door, leaving her final words to haunt me.
What do I want exactly? Such a small question with a broad answer. I want to be happy—I’m starting to see that now. I want to keep improving. Want to keep going forward instead of backward. Want to go forward with Avery.
I’m scared shitless as I open my phone and compose a text to her.
Me: We need to talk... There’s something really important that I need to tell you.
Chapter 33
Maybe it’s time to make up my own mind.
Avery
There was an exact moment when I stopped thinking about my past so much. I’m not exactly sure when it occurred or how it happened other than, one day, I realized my nightmares were less frequent. The thing is, I’ve always thought that, when I’d come back to life, I owed the stars for bringing me back, that I was supposed to help whoever cried out. For a month, I thought that person was Tristan, but now I’m not so sure anymore, because sometimes it feels like he’s helping me as much as I’m helping him. I worry I’m doing everything wrong again, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from falling for him.