I wasn’t about to make love to Tate for the first time on a lab table—not that she’d let me—but I wasn’t letting go of her yet, either.
Unfortunately, she had other ideas.
“Don’t…” She ripped away from my lips and pulled back.
What? No.
I opened my eyes, breathing hard and suddenly very empty.
I searched every inch of her face, wondering why the hell she’d made me stop. Her mouth had been molded to mine, totally kissing me back.
She’d wanted that.
But not now. Her blue eyes narrowed angrily, and she looked like she had on invisible armor.
Her body wanted it, but she didn’t.
She didn’t.
So I backed off. “Then I won’t,” I replied coldly.
She stared at me, looking a million miles away. “What are you up to?”
“I want us to be friends.” I let out a bitter laugh.
“Why now?”
Jesus.
“Why so many questions?” I retorted.
“You didn’t think it was going to be this easy, did you?”
“Yes,” I lied. “I was hoping we could move forward without looking back.” I knew it was too much to expect, but I let myself hope that Tate would see the bigger picture.
That with all of the anger and damage, with all the distance and misunderstanding, we still fit.
“We can’t,” she shot back. “You go from threatening me one day to kissing me the next. I don’t switch gears that fast.”
Me?
“Kissing you? You kissed me back… both times,” I pointed out. “And now you’re off to the school dance with Madoc. You might say I’m the one with whiplash here.”
She blinked, and her face faltered for a moment. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she replied pathetically.
“You shouldn’t go.”
“I want to. And he asked me.” She returned to her work, signaling the end of the discussion.
No fucking way.
My arms burned. I wanted to bring her back into them.
Stepping up behind her, I breathed her in. The top of her head fell just below my chin, and her whole torso—arms included—fit the width of my chest.
She fit.
“Has he been on your mind, Tate?” I inhaled the scent in her hair and braced both of my hands on the table on each side of her, caging her in. “Do you want him? Or is it me you dream of?”
Her hands slowed what they were doing, and I took that as a good sign, so I kept going.
“I said that when I put my hands on you, you’d want it. Remember?” I asked smoothly, trying to touch her with my words.
She paused for a moment and then turned around to look at me. “I don’t think it’s any secret that I like it when you touch me. When you’re ready to tell me everything you’re holding back, then maybe I’ll trust you again. Until then…” And she turned back around, cutting the connection.
I stared at her back, trying to figure out another way in.
She wanted to know shit. I got it.
But that wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t broadcast my problems. And I wasn’t bringing my father into our world.
Backing away, the truth settled in my gut like a rock.
Tate was not going to let this go.
No way, no how.
“Jared? There you are.”
I blinked and shifted my eyes to the doorway where Piper stood in her black and orange cheerleading uniform.
Shit.
“Weren’t you giving me a ride home today?” She put on a show, adjusting her long, dark hair and skirt.
I couldn’t see Tate’s face, but I knew she was annoyed. She concentrated a little too hard on her materials and papers, trying to look busy.
“I’ve got my bike today, Piper.” Which was the truth. Piper had never asked for a ride, not that I was going to give her one anyway.
“I can handle it,” she shot back. “Let’s go. It doesn’t look like you’re busy here anyway.”
Tate wasn’t looking at me, or either of us, and my stomach hollowed like the night I saw some other guy giving her her first kiss.
But I still didn’t want to leave. I’d rather have Tate feeding me her thorns than Piper feeding me her sweets.
But Tate was done. She wouldn’t let me off the hook. At least not today.
Fine, then. I let out a breath and stood up straight.
“Yeah, I’m not busy.” I walked towards the door, feeling colder and colder the farther away from Tate I got.
“So, Terrance?” Piper piped up.
Oh, Jesus. She was talking to Tate.
“You didn’t go and give your Homecoming date a black eye, did you? He can barely see. You should really stop beating up on guys or people will start thinking you’re a dyke.”
Fucking catty girls.
“She didn’t give Madoc a black eye,” I cut in. “I did.”
I didn’t care if Tate knew I was jealous. She definitely knew I wanted her by now.
“Why?” Piper asked.
I ignored the question as we walked out.
I never explained myself.