Wreck Me
Page 40

We get into Nova’s car, and then we’re driving to the beach. On the way there, we listen to music and talk about light things, which doesn’t seem like much, yet it’s everything I’ve always desired. I spent so much time arguing with Conner over bills, drugs, parenting, life that if feels nice to talk about easy stuff. Or maybe it’s just that talking to Tristan is easy.
Deep down, I know there’s something he wants to talk to me about. From the text he sent me, it might not be good either. I don’t bring it up, though, wanting just one more second, minute, hour, day, month, year, decade, lifetime of peace with him.
Jesus Christ. So much for not falling in too deep. I’ve already plummeted to the bottom and crashed into the unknown.
God, please don’t let me break again.
Please, just please, let things stay this good.
By the time we pull up to the sandy shore, the sky is a slate grey and dusted with the kisses of thousands of glowing stars. The ocean is lulling toward the sand, and in the midst of all the beauty is a massive bonfire with people gathered around it, drinking from plastic cups.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask as Tristan parks the Nova beside Charissa’s sleek black Mercedes that I have no clue how she affords. “I know being at parties can be hard when you’re a newbie to sobriety.”
“I’m ready if you’re ready,” he replies, shutting the headlights and the engine off.
I unfasten my seatbelt. “We could always skip it,” I add.
He slides the keys from the ignition. “But it’s your birthday party.”
“Yeah, but it’s only been a month since you stopped drinking, or since you took your last drink anyway... Oh, which reminds me…” I retrieve the quarter from the pocket of my shorts. “This is for you.” I stick my hand out with the quarter in my palm.
“Um, thanks?” He picks the coin up and flips it over with perplexity written on his face.
“It’s to mark your one month sobriety,” I explain, leaning over the console closer to him. “And that quarter is a big deal, my friend. In fact, there’s a huge story behind it.”
His fingers fold around the coin and he turns his head toward me, appearing moved. “Can you tell me the story?”
I knew he was going to ask this when I gave it to him, so I came prepared… I think. “I can tell you part of it, but only if you promise not to ask for too many details or look at me with pity.”
He smashes his lips together and nods. Through the soft stream of moonlight glimmering through the windshield, I can see he’s being genuine. “I promise.”
“Good.” I get comfortable in the seat, pulling my leg up to rest my chin on my knee. “So I’m sure you pretty much have a clear idea of why Conner and I got divorced, right?” He warily nods. “Well, the day I decided it was time to leave him was also the day I decided to stop drinking.” I reach over and tap his hand holding the coin. “And that’s the quarter that helped me make the call, the one that put an end to all the bad shit in my life.”
“Okay…?” He wants more.
And I’ll give him just a little because I trust him that much, even though I’m freaking terrified out of my wits.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
But it’s not a painful fall.
It’s almost…
Effortless.
“There was a fire, and we didn’t have enough money to afford cell phones, so I had to run to a payphone out in front of our trailer park. I honestly didn’t think the payphone would work, but it did, and I was able to call the police and the fire department before...” I suck in a gradual inhale and let the breath ease from my lips, my heart trembling. “And the crazy thing was, it gave me my quarter back after I made the call.”
“It sounds like a lucky quarter, then.”
“Oh, yeah, very, very lucky.”
Silence stretches between us as he studies me then the quarter in his hand. “Thank you, Avery. Not just for the quarter, but for remembering it was my month marker.” He puts the coin into his pocket then smiles up at me with something in his eyes that makes my heart miss a beat.
“You’re welcome,” I say in a shaky voice. “It’s an important marker.”
As he gives me a nervous smile, I can tell he’s going to tell me something soon, something that could potentially wreck me. I still hop out of the car, and he twines his fingers through mine as we hike down to the beach, stopping to take off our sandals when we reach the brim of the sand.
“Oh, I get to take my shirt off now,” he says with an evil grin, reaching for the collar of his shirt and lifting it over his head.
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as I deliberately take in the sight of his lean muscles and intricate tattoo inking his side.
“Your ni**les are perky,” I say, reaching out and pinching one.
“What the hell?” He laughs as he jumps away from my violating touch.
I laugh too. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“Well, it’s only fair that I get to pinch yours now.” He stalks toward me with his arms out, his fingers eager.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I cross my arms over my chest as I back away. I have a strapless black shirt on paired with red shorts. Beneath my attire is a bikini that I have no intention of showing anyone. The only reason I’m wearing it is because I don’t own another swimsuit.
“Hey, that’s not fair.” He chases after me as I whirl around and run. “You didn’t give me any warning when you decided to fondle me, so I couldn’t run.”
“That’s your own damn fault for flaunting your goodies.” Laughter bursts from my lips as I sprint down the shoreline away from the fire and near where the waves embrace the sand.
I don’t make it too far before his arms are circling around me, and he spins me around to face him.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t want me to.” His hand curves over my hip, making a path to my stomach. My muscles constrict as he slides his palm up my tank top, his fingers splayed against my flesh as his hand rest just below the bottom of my swimsuit top. He doesn’t go any farther, probably because I’ve panicked before when his hands wander up my shirt. He’s never said anything about it aloud, but I know he briefly felt the scars and has to wonder where they came from.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, almost as if his words confound him.
“Smooth,” I joke, but my voice is raspy.
“I’m being serious.” Puzzlement sketches deep into his face. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever touched… wanted to touch.”
“Tristan, you don’t have to say this kind of stuff to me. I’m not the kind of girl that needs a constant reminder that she’s gorgeous. Anyone can tell me I’m beautiful. It’s trust that wins me over, and you’ve been doing good with that.”
“I know you think I have,” he utters quietly, his fingers softly caressing the skin just below my breast. “But I just wanted you to know… need you to understand that you’re different. The past relationships I’ve been in… Well, there’s been none. In fact, I’ve never even slept with a girl I’ve been attracted to.”
Was this what he needed to talk to me about? It doesn’t seem so bad. Shocking, yes. The potential to wreck me, no. “Never? Not once?”
He slowly shakes his head. “I was mostly used for… stuff—drugs… not really wanted by anyone… and sometimes I’d use it to my benefit to get stuff… drugs. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I honestly don’t even know how they’re supposed to work.”
I battle to suppress the pain, not just his, but my own, because his words remind me of my sins.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
He gulps then nods. “I’ve done a lot of things… slept with a lot of women… done a lot of drugs… the two coinciding…” A deafening exhale puffs from his lips. “But I’m clean now. From everything. I swear. I’ve been tested and everything and haven’t had sex since that happened.”
I contemplate what he’s said, what he’s really said. This is reality, and it’s brutal and ugly and bumpy and doesn’t sweep me off my feet. I think of the time I lay under the stars with Conner, and we said I love you before ha**ng s*x for the first time. I felt like I was in a dream because it was fake. Conner was fake. Tristan is real.
“We’ve all made stupid choices in our lives,” I finally say, thinking about my own choices. “The important thing is you’re not doing that stuff anymore and that you’re clean now.” I smile reassuringly at him.
“Of course I am... I would never do anything while I’m with you. Honestly, I never want to do that stuff again—go back to being that person,” he says, almost panicking. “I just felt like I needed to tell you so you know what you’re getting into. And, yeah, so you understand just how extremely beautiful you are to me.”
He’s so flirty all the time, calling me cute and adorable with such ease, but standing here in front of me, being serious when he tells me I’m beautiful, makes him look like a guy that lacks self-confidence.
“I’m not using you,” I’m compelled to say, hoping it’ll erase the self-doubt in his expression. “Trust me. I haven’t let a guy touch me in two years. I’m super picky when it comes to letting people in.”
“I know you’re picky,” he says almost reverently, his fingers brushing against the bottom of my breast. “It confuses me why you let me touch you like this.”
“Because I want you to…” I trail off, listening to the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore as the lukewarm water kisses at our bare feet.
I tell myself to just spit it out, my own secrets, now that he’s given me his, but the words get stuck in my mouth. So instead, I run my fingers over the defined lines of the half skull, half human tattoo on his chest and ask, “You said once that all your tattoos have meanings, right? So what does this one mean?”
He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s just one I got after I almost overdosed. I was in a weird state of mind at the time.”
“Like you felt half alive and half dead?” I whisper, stretching my fingers across the tattoo.
He nods quizzically. “How did you know?”
I shrug. “Just a guess.” I’m such a liar.
I know because I once felt that way to.
Neither of us speaks for quite some time and I start to question if we’re going to stand in silence forever. But then an unexpected grin spreads across Tristan’s face, and before I can react, his fingers sneak below the band of my swimsuit and enclose around my nipple.
“Payback time.” He presses his fingertips together and pinches my nipple with just enough pressure that I yelp. As tingles zealously ripple across my skin, I collapse into his touch.
“Jesus, Avery,” he says as he slips an arm around my back and catches me, “that was ridiculously quick.”
“What! They’re super sensitive, okay?” I bury my feet into the sand to regain my footing.
He cocks his head to the side as Charissa hollers at us from down the beach. “You know, I’d really like to explore that a bit more, see what really gets you riled up.”
A rush of excitement flutters deep in my stomach and coils downward. I sigh as I grab his hand, pulling him down the beach. “Come on. We’ll pick this up after we go say hi.”
***
An hour later, I’m standing in front of the fire talking to Charissa, drinking a cup of soda while staring at Tristan as he chats with a couple of guys I’ve never met before. Tristan seems oddly at ease with his sobriety, but I still keep an eye on him. The two of us are the only sober ones here tonight, and I’m grateful that he’s with me, otherwise it’d be that much more difficult not to drink. I’d give him more brownie points for it, but he has so many already that I’ve lost count of the grand total.
It seems like such a perfect night, but there’s something troubling me. My omission of the truth. There’s still so much I need to tell Tristan, but fear is holding me back.
“So I heard a rumor that you applied for a job at the Mercedes dealership,” Charissa remarks then swigs a gulp from the plastic cup in her hand.
“Yeah…” I answer absentmindedly as Tristan and mine’s eyes connect from across the fire and it’s as if we’re exchanging a secret. Then he winks at me and I uncontrollably shiver before I dazedly focus back on Charissa, replaying her question in my head. “Wait, how did you know that? The only person I’ve told is Tristan.”
She presses me with an all-knowing look. “I have my ways.”
I frown. “Come on, tell me. I’m worried now… that Benny might find out I’m job hunting.”
“Well, he’s going to find out anyway, if you get the job.” She rolls her eyes when I continue to frown. “Oh fine.” She scans the beach, then her fingers enfold around my elbow and she steers me away from the fire. “But you have to keep it a secret.” She lets me go when we’re a safe distance away that no one will hear us.
I nod, peering back at the fire, noting Tristan is watching us. “Fine. I swear I won’t tell anyone.”
“Good,” she says and sips her drink. “My dad owns the dealership.”
“What!” I exclaim, my attention whipping to her.