Chapter Twelve
Tinsley
Once I was done in Dr. Morton's office, I closed the door behind me and headed to the main office where visitors checked in. The receptionist, a woman in her mid-forties named Karen, recognized me instantly, and grinned brightly at me.
"Tinsley!" she said, and I smiled in response.
"It's good to see you, Karen. I'd just like a visitor's pass to see Baby."
"Of course," she nodded, clicking something on her computer to print out my pass. "How have you been, love? How’s life?"
I thought about it for a moment before finally saying, "Getting there. And you?"
"Feeling good," she replied, motioning to her desk where several framed photos of her cats decorated the desk. "My cat Snow just had kittens."
"Oh, how cute.” She handed over my pass, and I thanked her. "It was good to see you," I told her, making my way out of the room when I remembered something, turning to look at her over my shoulder. "Hey, Karen... How is Baby today?"
"She's had better days," Karen reluctantly admitted. "We told her you were visiting, though. She got very excited."
I smiled, saying, "Hopefully not too excited."
"You'll see," Karen said cryptically. "You might have to do most of the talking today, though."
"That's fine," I replied, waving goodbye and heading up the stairs onto the first floor, where Baby's room was.
I had missed my best friend at the home since I'd left the facility. It had only taken the few short months of summer to make a lifelong friend at Lindsay's home. I'd decided to keep Baby in my life after I left. I couldn't just turn my back to her. She deserved the help and support from at least one person. I found my way to her room, gently knocking on the door.
"Come in."
Even the sound of her voice cheered me up. It reminded me of all the hours we'd spent sharing secrets over the summer, whispering about this and that and comparing our experiences. She'd gone through a hard period of her life just like I had, and while I’d gotten better, she seemed to only sink deeper into the hole she'd been trying to claw her way back out of. I could only visit her weekly, according to the home's rules, but I was determined to make every one of those visits count. I opened the door, sunlight flooding my vision as I walked inside. Baby was sitting at her desk, one of her many notebooks lying open in front of her. She smiled wide when she saw me, jumping up with a shriek and running toward me.
"It's so good to see you!" she gushed, and I gave her a warm hug.
"You too, Baby," I told her, pulling back to inspect her. "You look good."
She gave me a shy smile. She never knew how to respond to compliments, but I really meant what I'd said. She looked glowing. Her flowery dress fit her well, and her face, while devoid of makeup, was as pretty as ever.
"It's been so lonely here since you left," Baby admitted, motioning to the empty bed on the other side of the room. "That's been empty this whole time."
"They haven't given you a new roommate?" I asked, and she shook her head. "How strange."
"I think they're worried we wouldn't get along as well as I did with you," Baby giggled. "Do you want to go out into the garden?"
"Yeah. Come on, let's go."
We walked down the hallway and then the stairs until we reached the doors that led into the garden behind the U-shaped building. The space was beautiful with a large stone fountain in the center and several private spots with benches hidden among the surrounding trees. It was idyllic, but not pretty enough to hide the truth from any of the residents—the fact that a fence surrounded the property, making sure nobody escaped. While I'd been at Lindsay's willingly, Baby wasn't. She was forced into staying there, put there for her own safety. And I knew, from the summer we'd spent together, just how much she hated it.
"Tell me everything." Baby gushed as we sat down on a stone bench under a willow tree. "You started school, right?"
"I did," I said, wincing. "It's been an experience."
Over the next hour, I told her everything from Crispin's confusing friendship to Estella's manipulation and even about the new friend I'd made. I could tell how eager she was to know more, leaning forward and nodding at every word. She lived for this. She could have thrived outside the home, but we all knew she had to stay in, at least for another six months. During the end of our conversation, I could tell she was getting tired and a little sad. I reached over, gently squeezing her hand.
"I know this is hard," I muttered. "I wish I could visit more often."
"Believe me, so do I. But more than anything, I want to get the hell out of here. Even if it’s just for a few hours.”
“They won’t let you leave?” I asked.
“No. My parents won’t allow it. If I want to get out of here, I need to run away.”
“Well,” I gave her a wicked grin. “That could be arranged.”
She didn't respond, just stared at our interwoven fingers. We stayed like that for a little while until the breeze got chillier, blowing autumn leaves all over the atrium.
"We should get back. I don't want you to catch a cold."
She nodded, and I helped her up and back into the building. Once she realized I was really going to leave, her eyes filled with tears, and guilt washed over me in waves of emotion.
"I'll be back next week," I tried to reassure her. "We'll talk more then. You'll be fine, Baby."
"I guess," she muttered, pulling me in for a quick hug. "I just wish I could see you more often."
"So do I," I assured her, kissing her on the cheek. "Until next week, my dear."
She waved goodbye but didn't move from her spot until I'd left the building. By the time I was standing in the parking lot, waiting for Mom, I could still see her faint silhouette in the hall of the home. Her belly was rounder than the last time I’d seen her.
She was really starting to show.
"Do you mind starting on dinner while I jump in the shower?" Mom asked once we got home.
"Of course.”
She pressed a kiss against my cheek before rushing up the stairs and into the bathroom. I only noticed a few moments later that she'd forgotten her phone, when it started vibrating with incoming messages. I shrugged, leaving it on the kitchen counter and focusing on getting dinner together. I started on some pasta, boiling the water and adding the tagliatelle in the hot salted liquid. For the sauce, I chopped some tomatoes with other veggies that I roasted beforehand. Just as everything started bubbling on the stove, Mom's phone went off again, this time with an incoming call. In case it was important, I picked it up and started walking toward the stairs. But then I made the mistake of looking at the caller ID.
Christofer Dalton.
My stomach fell, and I felt bile rising in my throat. Why was Crispin's father calling my mom? Mom had sworn up and down she wasn't in touch with him anymore. While the phone kept vibrating in my hand, I tried to convince myself it was nothing. It was probably something to do with the show, not a personal call. But I couldn't stop my own curiosity, the anger within me rose to dangerous levels. I picked up the call.
"Hey, sweetheart." Crispin's father voice was so familiar. He'd been pretty much a substitute Dad to me since my own father left when I was younger. But now, the voice made my skin crawl. "Are we still on for tomorrow?"
I felt paralyzed. I just stared at the phone in my hand, my heart beating faster and faster. Mom walked into the room a moment after, seeing me there with her phone in my hand. She smiled brightly, coming toward me wrapped up in a gown and her hair in a towel.
"Let me take that," she chirped, taking the phone and answering the call, not missing a beat once. "Hey. Yeah. Yes, of course. You, too. Can't wait!" She cut the call and turned around to find me still standing in the same spot.
"Who was that?" I asked, treading carefully and giving her every opportunity I could to tell me the truth. "Who were you on the phone with, Mom?"
"Oh, just a caterer for your party." She waved her hand. "I was thinking we'd have churros and a choc
olate fountain. So fun, right?"
"Mom."
She turned around, her bright smile fading when she saw my face. "What?" she asked, her voice shaking just a little, and then, I knew.
"I know who that was," I said, my own words filled with the anger of her betrayal. "I know who called you, Mom! You swore to me the two of you weren't in touch anymore."
"Tinsley, I can explain," she said, coming toward me with her arms outstretched.
"No, don't. I really don't want to hear what you're going to say. It's bad either way, Mom. You know you ruined his marriage, right?"
"Tinsley, it's not like that," she said shakily, steadying her palms on the kitchen island. "I didn't end the Dalton's marriage. That was a long-time coming."
"Oh yeah?" I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "As far as everyone else knows, that's a lie. For God's sake, Crispin even has a little sister. Did you ever think about her, Mom? Did you ever think you were wrecking more lives than just one?"
The tears that glistened in her eyes were mirrored in my own. Suddenly, I didn't want to have this conversation anymore. I just wanted to get the hell away from her. "I'm going upstairs," I muttered, grabbing the handrail.
"Tinsley, don't," she called out after me. "I swear it isn't what you may think. I can explain."
"Are you still seeing him?" I asked her loud and clear.
She hesitated, and it was enough for me to shake my head.
"There's my answer," I muttered, rushing up the stairs and ignoring her when she called after me.
Chapter Thirteen
Crispin
Tinsley was acting cold toward me at school, while Estella was all over me. It had taken me some time to get used to her bubbly excitement, but even I had to admit, the girl had charm, but she was starting to get under my skin.
However, I didn't allow myself to get my hopes up. Whether I would be able to have feelings for Estella remained to be seen, but for the time being, my thoughts mostly revolved around a certain lilac-haired beauty. I felt guilty about it at the beginning, but Estella's interest waned almost immediately after she got me twirled around her little finger. I often felt like a pawn in a game of chess, one she moved across the board effortlessly. I'd gotten to know how Estella's family worked, and I'd started to see where she'd gotten her calculating, clever nature.
That day, in chemistry class, I'd noticed Professor Fitzpatrick shake her head as she handed Tinsley her last test. Guiltily, I realized I hadn't set up any tutoring hours with her, so she was probably still just as lost about chemistry as she had been when the teacher first called us over to chat. I caught up with Tinsley after class, falling in step next to her and grinning when she looked up.
"Hello, crybaby.”
"Hi." She muttered her response. "What do you want?"
"I want to set up a date," I said, and she looked at me, wide-eyed. "Your place, tonight?"
"But what a-about..." Tinsley stuttered, dropping into a whisper. "What a-about Est-Estella?"
I gave her a weird look, adding, "I meant for the chemistry lessons."
"Right. Of course. Um, yeah, that’s a good idea, since I did horribly on the last test. I'm home later tonight, and alone, so you know, no embarrassing speeches from my mom." She grimaced as she said that, earning another strange look from me. She'd always gotten along so well with her mom, and I'd always thought it sweet that they didn't seem to ever fight.
"Okay," I finally said. "I'll see you at five thirty?"
"Sure," she nodded stiffly. "See you then."
I raised my hand up for a high five, but she ignored it and kept walking away from me. Feeling deflated, I sauntered into the cafeteria, grabbed some fries, and found a seat next to Estella who pressed a tight-lipped kiss to my lips.
"You're late, baby," she scolded me. "Where were you?"
"I'm tutoring Tinsley in chemistry today," I told her, and she instantly stiffened on the bench next to me. "She's pretty much failing, and the teacher suggested I help, since I need the extra credit."
"Why?" Estella barked. "You know we're like, fighting right now, baby. I don't want to deal."
"You don't have to deal," I reminded her. "You have that shopping trip with your mom today, anyway, right?"
"Yeah," she reluctantly admitted.
"See, we couldn't hang out today, anyhow," I told her, shrugging and feeding her a fry. "Don't be mad."
"Okay." She beamed, her face so pretty it hurt me.
I looked away, eating more fries while my eyes silently searched the crowd. Despite knowing I'd spend the afternoon with her, I wanted more of her. My pretty, innocent, feisty Tinsley. It was like getting high on the best drug ever, the one that made you feel so fucking guilty after you tried it but even worse when you kept coming back for hit after hit.
"Hey," she stepped aside, giving me an uncomfortable smile. "Come in."
I smiled, holding open the door and walking into the house. "You realize if I were a vampire, you'd basically have to move if you wanted to keep me out of your house."
"Are you a vampire, Crispin?" she said, her stiff expression wavering just a little.
"If I am," I said, stepping inside. "You're fucked."
She snickered, closing the door behind me and leading me into the expansive living room. It was breathtaking, a huge space stretched over the cliff in the back of the house, with an infinity pool I'd kill for. Suddenly I understood why the house was smaller—a view like this was worth millions.
"Nice place," I said, motioning to the gorgeous back of the house. "You must love it here."
"It's better than the old house," Tinsley admitted. "It was so big that I could get lost in it."
I could get lost in you, I thought to myself, but to her, I just offered a smile.
She looked painfully cute in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a ribbed bodysuit. Her feet were bare, and she had red nail polish on her toes, pink on her hands. It clashed delightfully. As she walked past me to open the drapes, I took her by the hand. She let out the smallest of gasps, and I smirked, looking at her fingers.
"Red and pink," I said. "Cute."
She pulled her hand back, giving me an uncomfortable look and rushing out of the room while I stood there with my heart hammering in my chest. I felt like a jackass, but I couldn't help myself with her.
She came back a moment later with a stack of textbooks which she set down on a working desk that stretched from one side of the huge window to the other. We got comfortable with the gorgeous view in front of us and the light pouring in through the windows.
I caught myself staring at Tinsley more than once as she got the materials ready. But either she was oblivious, or she really didn't notice me devouring her with my eyes.
"This is what I'm struggling with," she said, pointing to an exercise in one of our textbooks. "It seems like you've been learning about it for a while, but my instructor never covered it."
"Right," I said, trying not to stare at her lips. "Let's go over the basics first. Tell me what you know already."
She launched into an explanation of pH levels, and I tried to stop myself from looking at her. But it was fucking impossible. She drew me in, literally drew me forward until I realized I'd been inching closer so I could smell her, see her, hear her better. She was a balm for my senses, the fucking medicine my soul needed. And I could hardly keep my hands off.
I forced myself not to say a word. Instead, for the next three hours, I helped her understand some of the basics she hadn't quite grasped by herself. I'd never considered myself a great teacher, but Tinsley made it easy. She was eager to learn, reminding me of her younger self on the set of Devin Mooney when she'd been so excited to memorize the lines. She usually had them down an hour after we got the scripts.
We were nearing the end of a longer exercise. Outside, twilight lit up the sky, and a stray strand of hair fell from Tinsley's messy ponytail, landing on her cheek. Before I'd quite realized what I was doing, I'd leaned forward, touching her cheek.
>
Her eyes rose to meet mine, fear reflected in her irises. "I think I get it now," she managed to get out, unable to look away.
"Good," I muttered, withdrawing my hand.
An awkward silence lay between us until I told her to do the last exercise in the set. I got up for the first time in the last few hours, stretching my back before walking past the huge TV to the bookshelves lining the other wall.
I glanced at the spines, grinning when I saw the titles. There were some non-fiction books, mostly about acting and how to improve and hone your dramatic talent. The fiction that was there was romance, with daring covers and titles that would even make me blush.
"God, Tinsley," I muttered under my breath. "You read like a girl."
"Read like a girl?" she repeated, getting up from her seat and coming to stand in front of me. She crossed her arms defensively in front of her body, glaring at me. “Well Crispin,” she snapped. “For your information, I’m proud of it.”
I laughed out loud, suddenly tempted to grab her arm and just pull her against me. Shivers went down my spine as I imagined doing things to her that would be so very wrong. Something as simple as taking her hair out of that ponytail, or squeezing her nipples through that top.
Yes, Tins, I noticed you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Good for you,” I muttered out loud, looking away from her face, unable to take another second of her painful prettiness.
“I’m done with the last exercise, by the way,” she added, motioning to her desk. “Are you going to check my results?”
“Nah,” I shook my head and grinned at her. “I trust you’ve done a good job. You feeling confident about the quiz, now?”
“Yeah.” She nodded with a determined smile. “I’m going to ace it. Thanks for helping me.”
I nodded and grabbed my backpack off her desk.
“Oh. You’re leaving?”
I looked at her again, those eyes so wide, the words begging me to stay, waiting on her lips. “We’re done with your practice,” I reminded her, my voice gentle.
Boys That Tease: A Bully Romance (Lords Of Wildwood Book 1) Page 15
