I grip at his shoulders, pulling him closer, refusing to listen to that inner voice screaming at me to stop this. That I’ve crossed the point of no return with this friendship and there’s no going back. That I need to be able to go back. That I don’t want this, at least not under the circumstances.
Before I can respond to my thoughts, Tristan pulls away. His eyes are glazed over, his pupils massive in the darkness covering the bar, his breathing ragged.
“I think I hear sirens,” he whispers, tracing the pad of his thumb back and forth across my bottom lip, mesmerized by my mouth.
My chest rapidly rises and falls as I work to catch my breath. “Me, too.”
“You’ll be safe soon,” he promises, still staring at my mouth as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe.
“Good,” I whisper back in a hoarse voice.
What I really want to say is I already feel safe.
Because of you.
Chapter 26
I feel… different.
Tristan
It took a lot of restraint not to walk out that door and beat Conner’s ass. The only thing that stopped me was the horrified look on Avery’s face. She was one step away from losing it, and I needed to be there to make her stay calm, feel safe.
Then the kiss happened.
The most amazing, terrifying, and poorly timed kiss ever. One I had to end, otherwise I’m not sure I’d be able to ever stop. I needed things not to go that far. Avery needed things not to go that far, whether she realized it or not. And just like that, I realize I’ve become that guy—the good kind that doesn’t put his needs first.
What the hell?
How did that happen?
I’m not supposed to be good. I’m supposed to be bad. Just like I’ve always been told I was. The screw up. The disappointment. The loser. Junkie. No good bastard.
But maybe they were wrong.
My thoughts sink deep into my bones as the night goes on. The police never catch Conner; he took off the moment he heard the sirens. We file a report, and by the time Nova shows up, Avery looks exhausted. I get her in the car and then hop into the backseat with her. Nova has questions in her eyes as to why there are cop cars everywhere, but I quickly shake my head, warning her not to ask them.
We drive in silence through the faintly lit town, past dark houses and closed stores, up a few narrow side streets, finally arriving at the house Nova and I helped build for Avery. It’s in a small, quiet subdivision, and looks peaceful in the darkness of the night.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I ask Avery after Nova pulls up in the driveway. All the interior lights are off and no one looks like they’re home. I painfully become aware that I still have no clue who Avery lives with, if anyone.
She nods as I open the door and flip the seat forward to get out of the car. “I’m good… I don’t live alone.”
“Oh.” I step back so she can get out. “Who do you live with?”
“Family,” she vaguely replies as she ducks out, clutching her purse.
I want to press her more, but the desperate look she gives me, as if she’s silently pleading for me to let her be, silences my questions.
“So you can call me at any time if you need anything,” I say.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She hurries up the driveway.
I feel the strangest pull to beg her to come back to the motel with me where I know she’ll be safe. Instead, I watch as she unlocks the door and rushes inside, flipping on the lights. Then I get back into the car and sigh heavily as Nova backs down the driveway.
“What in the hell happened?” she asks as she drives down the isolated road toward the extended highway that stretches between towns.
“Just a bunch of stuff,” I say, strapping on my seatbelt.
“Stuff you can’t talk to me about?”
“I’m not sure. And until I am, I’m not going to.”
“All right, I get it.” She flips on the brights as she changes the topic. “Do you want to go over to the neighbor’s tonight or in the morning?”
I check the clock on the dash. “It’s kind of late.”
“Quinton said they were awake and being obnoxious outside about an hour ago. If they’re awake, it’d be good to get it over with.”
She’s right, so I agree to take care of it if they’re still outside when we arrive back to the motel.
For the rest of the drive, the conversation is light. We chat about the documentary she’s making and how my classes are going. She asks me about my job, and I ask her the same thing. But the entire time, I’m thinking about Avery.
Avery.
Avery.
Avery.
An echo in my head.
Is she okay after what happened?
God, I hope she’s okay.
I feel so different, as if something has altered my life. What makes Avery so different? It’s not the same as how I felt with Nova. Yeah, Nova tried to change me, but I half-assed my transformation because I honestly didn’t care. With Avery, I want to change, to protect her, to be a better person. But why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
“Oh, good, they’re awake,” Nova announces with a weary sigh as we park in front of our motel room.
Only a few of the room lights are on, along with the bright green vacancy sign on the billboard next to the main office. Five doors down from ours, the neighbor and his girlfriend are outside, smoking and laughing on the porch. Their room door is open and music and the glow from their lamps filters out into the night.
“Well, at least we can get this over with.” When I push open the door to get out, the neighbors instantly look over at me and then frantically start whispering to each other.
I’m a little irked about giving them any money at all because it’s just going to go toward drugs and shit. But I don’t want to deal with the drama.
I go inside and find Quinton lying in bed, still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but his shoes are off and he’s drawing in his sketchbook.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask when he sets his pencil down and sits up on the bed, rubbing his eyes.
He nods, understanding my meaning. “What about you?”
“Maybe.” I dump the contents of my pockets out onto the table. “You know he’s going to be a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, we all were when we were on drugs.” He stands up and slips on his shoes then hands me a small stack of money.
“I’m going to pay you guys back,” I say lamely as I add my own forty dollars to the stack to make it an even hundred.