After several long, unnerving seconds, Tag nods and heads for the bathroom. I hear the cabinet open. I hear it close. I don’t remember seeing a stray toothbrush in there when I put my things away, but to say I was distracted would be the understatement of the year. There could’ve been a rattlesnake in there and I might not have noticed.
When Tag reappears from the bathroom, he’s empty-handed. “Mom must’ve thrown it away when she cleaned. I thought I got everything out when I moved my things, but . . .”
“So where are you sleeping now?”
“At the other end of the hall.”
“Oh,” I reply, my skin warming at the thought of him being so close. All night long.
“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.” He backs toward the door and every cell of my body is screaming for him to come to the bed. I need you! I need you!
But I don’t admit to that. Rather, I smile and say, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” he returns, easing back out the way he came. It’s right before he closes the door that I hear his soft, “Sweet dreams, fair Weatherly.” And then he’s gone.
—
I’m on my side with the covers pulled up over my shoulders, facing the door when it opens. The muted creak brings me out of my semi-sleep with pulse-pounding speed. My eyes adjust quickly enough to recognize that the short blonde walking into my room is not Tag.
I gasp, sitting up so fast the room spins for a second. “Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in my room?”
I think for a moment about what I might be able to use for a weapon if this girl is here to do me harm. Logic hasn’t entered into the equation yet.
“Ohmigod I’m so sorry! I thought this was Tag’s room. Sorry,” she says, turning to tiptoe back out the way she came.
“Wait!” I snap, anger beginning to boil in my blood as realization sets in. The girl stops and turns her upper body back toward me. “You’re here for Tag?”
“Yes. I didn’t mean to bother you. I thought this was his room, but maybe I turned the wrong way. It is dark, after all.”
Is it? Is it dark at two a.m., you brainless bimbo? I think venomously. Jealously.
“You’ve been here before, then?”
“A few times.”
“Does . . . does Tag know you’re coming?”
“He told me to come over tonight, but I’m running late.”
I keep a firm hold on my jaw so that it doesn’t drop open in humiliated outrage. “Well, you can find him at the other end of the hall.”
I flop back onto the bed, turning away from the door and silently dismissing the interloper. No wonder Tag didn’t try to kiss me. I guess since he was supposed to be seeing another woman within a couple of hours his sense of propriety stopped him. It should’ve stopped him a helluva lot sooner.
That is one messed up moral compass, I think.
I roll back over onto my back, throwing an arm over my eyes. How humiliating!
Wow, you’re an idiot, Weatherly.
I’ve never fallen for cheap lines before. What the hell is wrong with me? Never mind that no one I know has the audacity to throw any cheap lines at me. I feel like a fool for believing one thing Tag said. I should’ve known a guy who looks like him would be this kind of person. An unscrupulous manwhore. A user and a liar and a cheat. An incorrigible rake, by his own admission! And I fell for it! God! And I hate that it stings so much.
I promise to tell you the absolute truth about everything I’m feeling.
Jesus, I’m an imbecile! No wonder my father doesn’t trust me to make my own choice for a husband.
The thought brings my circumstances—all of them—rushing back to the forefront of my mind. I have real problems, problems that dwarf being temporarily sidetracked by a line-slinging ladies’ man. Tag’s despicable nature changes nothing, other than my silly intention of living in the moment for a change. I came here to get a plan together and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Tag be damned. I don’t need him or his help or his sweet talk. And if he thinks he’s ever going to be kissing these lips, he’s got another thought coming!
SIX
Tag
I’m not surprised that I find Weatherly nursing a cup of coffee and a paperback on the patio. I’m also not surprised when she makes a point to ignore me the instant I step out. I know she heard me because she pulled her book in closer to her face, a clear indication that she doesn’t want to be bothered.
Not that it matters. I’m going to bother her anyway. I know what she’s thinking and I don’t want her thinking it.
I saunter on over to the chaise she’s lounging on and I squat beside it, near her right hip, and I wait until she acknowledges me. She doesn’t for at least two full minutes, but I’m not deterred. If she thinks she’ll outlast me, she’s sadly mistaken.
Finally, with a loud and slightly petulant huff, Weatherly lowers her book and glares at me through the light tint of her sunglasses.
“Was there something that you needed?”
“Always polite,” I say, unable to hide my grin. God, she’s adorable! She’s bristling, but heaven forbid she show it. Too much breeding for that, I suppose.
She makes no comment; merely arches one perfectly sculpted raven brow.
I clear my throat and continue. “I wanted to explain about Amber.”