I’d already halted.
A lump stretched my throat as I stood there, locking my eyes with his dark ones staring at me through the bathroom mirror, her warning coming a second too late.
Jared.
“Tate, did you hear me?” she yelled, but I couldn’t answer her.
I tightened my fist around the doorknob and glued my teeth together so hard my jaw ached.
He stood at the mirror, with his back to me, and every muscle in his naked arms and torso was steel-rod tight as he leaned down on his hands and held me with a hard stare.
He didn’t seem surprised to see me. And he definitely didn’t look happy.
I inhaled short, shallow breaths. What the hell was he doing here?
“Tate!” I heard someone shout, but all I could do was watch as he straightened and picked his watch up off the counter, fastening it to his wrist as he held my eyes the entire time.
So calm. So cold.
It was like a razor cutting through my heart as I resisted a need to rush him. Maybe to hit him or maybe to fuck him, but whatever it was I was going to hurt him. I cemented every muscle in my body to keep myself in check.
He wore fitted black pants that hung low on his waist, his feet and torso were bare, and his hair was chaos, like he’d just towel dried it.
Our childhood tree filled his back in a stunning black tattoo, and I looked over his shoulder and arms to notice a few new ones.
My stomach shook, and I tightened my abs to resist it.
It had been so long.
His black clothes, his black moods, his nearly black eyes . . . My heart pounded like a drum, and I gritted my teeth, feeling my core tighten.
He looked exactly like he had in high school. Gone was any trace of his ROTC days in college. He was a little more muscular, with more angle to his jawline, but it was four years ago all over again.
I tipped my chin up, seeing him grab his belt off the counter and turn around, walking toward me.
“Tate?” Juliet pressed in my ear. “Tate, did you hear me? Hello?”
He stepped up to me slowly, threading his belt through the loops, and my chest was on fire. My heart couldn’t possibly beat any faster, and I hardened my eyes and expression as he stopped a few inches in front of me and hovered.
“Tate,” Juliet yelled, “I said that Jared is at Madoc’s!”
And the corner of Jared’s lips tilted in a smile, telling me he’d heard her futile warning.
“Yes,” I answered, clearing my throat as I glared up at him. “Thanks for the heads up,” I told her.
And I brought the phone away from my ear and clicked End Call.
His arms worked, fastening his belt, but he didn’t break eye contact. Neither did I. This was natural for Jared. Hover, make me cower in his shadow, threaten with just his presence . . . but it was all in vain.
Because that’s just how well I knew myself now. No one dominated me.
I kept my voice calm, trying to sound bored. “There are about twenty other rooms in this house,” I pointed out. “Find one.”
His eyes turned from threatening to amused, and it was the exact same look I got in the lunch room the first day of senior year in high school when I’d decided to fight back. Jared always got a rush out of challenging me.
“You know,” he started, reaching behind the bathroom door and pulling out a white T-shirt. “I smelled you as soon as I stepped foot into the room. Your scent was everywhere,” his velvety voice sent chills over my skin as he continued, “and I thought maybe it was just leftovers from our time here, but then I noticed all your shit.” He gestured to the beauty products on the bathroom counter and then threaded his arms into his short sleeves and pulled the shirt over his head.
So he’d come here not knowing he’d find me. At least he wasn’t planning anything, then.
He patted his pants pocket and cocked his head, smirking. “I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed a few of your condoms.”
My hand suddenly ached, and I realized I’d been squeezing the doorknob this whole time. I didn’t know if I was angry that he was referring to my sex life or insinuating plans about his own, but the asshole hadn’t changed. He was waiting for me to react.
The condoms were leftovers from a year and a half ago, the last time I had sex. They were probably expired anyway.
“By all means.” I plastered a tight smile on my face. “Now, if you don’t mind . . .” I cleared the doorway, waving my arm wide and inviting him to get the hell out.
A million questions raged through my head. Why was he here? At this house? In my room? Where was his little entourage I’d seen him with on TV and YouTube when I’d given in on lonely nights and Googled him?
But then I reminded myself that Jared Trent wasn’t a part of my life anymore. I didn’t need to care about him.
He brushed past me, grazing my arm, and I started breathing through my mouth, because the smell of his body wash messed with my nerves. With my memories and a time when I was completely his.
I couldn’t stand here with him. Not in this room.
I’d never let Ben stay the night when I crashed here, and no one knew, but Jared’s and my homecoming photo still sat in its frame, hidden in the dresser drawer. Along with my charm bracelet he’d given me senior year. I’d wanted it out of my house but not gone. Not yet.
This room had played a crucial part early on in our relationship. It was the first space, away from our parents, that was ours—where we could do what we wanted and act the way we chose. To wake up next to each other, to shower together, to make love without fear of who would hear us, to stay up all night talking or watching movies . . . Whether it was the bed, the floor, the shower, the wall, or the bathroom fucking counter, every surface had a memory of him attached to it.
I still couldn’t face the fact that I loved being in here, and what’s more, I couldn’t face the fact that I had never let Ben—or anyone else—stay in here.