Just Breathe

by Rachel Brookes

  “Tanzi, I am Australian. We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, so it will be just like any other day. Honestly, I will be fine.” I offered a smile as I removed myself from the pool lounge and stood in front of her.

  Grabbing her hand, I looked at her with pleading eyes. “You’ve got to stop worrying about me.”

  “You’re my best friend; it’s my job to worry about you. Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?” Her blue eyes shone with intent.

  “I have a hot date with my couch, Chinese takeout and a marathon of The Wonder Years. How can I possibly give up that?”

  Tanzi grabbed my hand as we walked toward the lift; I had missed her. Not being at work and not going to Red Velvet meant that I was hardly seeing her and Jack. Of course she visited my apartment, but I was spending most of my time faking that I was asleep so no one would bother me.

  “When are you coming over for dinner, Sav? I need some more of that Aussie wine, and we all miss the shit out of you.” Jack’s voice boomed from behind me.

  “Soon, Jack. You have to invite me. A girl just doesn’t turn up.” I twisted to face him as we stepped in the lift. I gave him my trademark Savannah wink before dropping my eyes to the floor. Tate was standing in silence and I knew he was staring at me; my body always knew when he was staring at me. Being under his gaze had made me nervous since day one. He was the only one who could make me blush, and I couldn’t allow him to see me blushing from his gaze.

  “Come to our next Margarita Monday! Tate makes a mean Mexican dinner, I can pour the shit out of tequila and Tanzi, well, she just looks good.” Jack gave Tanzi a wink and turned back to me.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Years of watching American movies and television had given me an idea of what Thanksgiving should be all about—spending time with loved ones, eating way too much food, laughing, joking and loving life. My first Thanksgiving was spent in my apartment eating obscene amounts of Chinese food while crying myself into oblivion over the emotional instability of The Wonder Years. By 4 a.m. I was on the edge of delirium and I swear I was dancing around my apartment in my underwear, but I couldn’t be sure, when Mr. Davenport arrived at my door and I thought I was hallucinating.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked in confusion as we made our way to his car.

  “Out of your apartment for one. It’s the day after Thanksgiving and it’s almost four in the morning and there is only one thing to do in Los Angeles at this time.” Mr. Davenport winked, holding the passenger door open for me.

  “What’s that?” I questioned.

  Driving out of my apartment complex, he turned to me swiftly and gave me a grin ear to ear. “Black Friday sales.”

  I twisted too quickly in my seat and gawked at him with my mouth hanging open unattractively. “You’re taking me shopping?” I shrieked in a decibel that could almost shatter glass.

  “Jesus, Sav, turn down the volume,” he warned. “I’ve got to do something to get you out of this funk.”

  “I think I’m in love with you!” I laughed and hit the cushion of the seat hard beside me and jumped up and down in excitement.

  “There are already rumors about us. You saying you are in love with me will not help.” He laughed and turned his attention back to the road ahead. My mind flickered to the amazingness of shopping that I was about to do. I knew Mr. Davenport despised shopping— hell, he made me do all his Christmas shopping—so for him to take me shopping was a big deal. Just another reason why I adored this man.

  My excitement was shattered when Mr. Davenport dropped a bombshell.

  “So I called Tate.”

  “Why?” I stuttered in disbelief, narrowing my eyes at the man who more often than not frustrated me to tears.

  “Because I can.”

  “That is not an answer.”

  “Because you are too stubborn to call him and if he has got you this upset, then I’ve got to step in and have words with him. It’s clear he means a lot to you.”

  “He hasn’t made me upset.”

  “You have just spent fucking Thanksgiving buried in Chinese and watching The Wonder Years for god’s sake.”

  “I like The Wonder Years, thank you very much.”

  “Bullshit, Savannah. Now just shut up and let me speak.”

  I shifted in my seat to look at him. Every time he started a conversation like this I knew I was either in trouble or he had something to get off his chest so I awaited impact.

  “I know you, Sav, and I know that all the shit that’s happened with you and Tate has brought up memories for you. This is now, Sav. You have to remember now. I know you don’t believe you have the right to be happy, I know you struggle daily with that and I know you still blame yourself for Corey’s suicide and your parents’ car accident, but you deserve happiness, and if Tate gives you that, take it. It’s okay to love someone again.”

  I looked at him, bewildered. “Who said anything about love?”

  “For once in your life would you listen to me?” he groaned.

  “You are so cranky!” I laughed.

  “Just fucking admit that you love him and stop making me age before my time. Give a man a break,” he said before shooting me another stern look.

  “My purpose on this earth is to annoy you.” I chuckled and sat back in my seat. The word love was the only thing I was thinking about.

  After four hours of shopping and too many arguments with Mr. Davenport to count, I stumbled into my apartment at eight a.m. with both arms cramping under the copious amounts of shopping bags I was carrying and an impending shopping hangover. I knew I adored Mr. Davenport but my admiration of him increased tenfold when he had given me what he liked to call a Christmas allowance, which I had used it to my full advantage and pulled him into all my favorite stores, much to his annoyance. He had patiently waited for me while I tried on clothes and shoes and he had offered his opinion on everything I tried on: “too revealing,” “like hell you are wearing that,” “that’s not a fucking skirt, that’s a piece of scrap material,” “you’ll break your fucking neck wearing those shoes.” And that was how the majority of our arguments had started today. God, I loved that man. I walked out with new shoes, makeup, bags and clothes, which were all now swamping my couch. Thanksgiving weekend had turned out better than I could have ever imagined.

  Climbing into bed at eight in the morning wasn’t anything new to me; however, going to bed at eight in the morning after four hours of shopping and not being hung over was something totally different and very welcomed. I snuggled deep into my mattress and pulled the cover tightly around me as my heavy eyes closed. My phone beeped beside me. My breath faltering as I looked at the screen.

  Tate: I am not the same without you. I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.

  Do I reply? Do I ignore? Do I pretend that I never received the message from him? I read the message over and over again. I wasn’t the same without him either. I was hiding behind a false smile. I was hiding behind a confidence that was shattered. I was hiding behind my heart that craved him. With shaky hands, I sent a reply after typing and deleting five times.

  Me: You will see me soon.

  It was simple, didn’t offer any promises and was my means of communicating to him after a horrendous week of not talking to him. Every morning I wanted to text him and every night as I crawled into my lonely bed I wanted to call him.

  Tate: Today? A week is too long. I can be back in L.A. in two hours.

  Me: Good to see you haven’t lost your confidence.

  Tate: Is that a yes?

  Me: It’s a “you will see me soon.” I’ve got to sleep now.

  Tate: Its 8 a.m.!

  Me: I’ve only just walked in the door.

  Tate: Should I be jealous?

  Me: It’s your choice if you are jealous of Mr. Davenport.

  I switched my phone to silent and placed it on my bedside table. I rested my arm over my eyes as a very brief smile
came to my lips. I missed him. My mind was still racing at Mr. Davenport’s ridiculous comments about Tate and me, but I knew he was right. My fear of love, my fear of falling so deeply into someone petrified me. The thought of giving myself to someone so thoroughly and completely was what I had promised I would never do. Then again, I didn’t imagine that someone like Tate Connors would barge into my life the way he did. I fell into a deep slumber, but my dreams were full of him. Tate Connors wasn’t even leaving me alone in my dreams.

  ***

  Tanzi: Hey Sav, we are on our way back. I will see you in two hours. Margarita Monday is happening and I am not taking no for an answer. I miss my best friend xx Tanzi.

  Shit!

  I knew I couldn’t get out of this. I knew that Tanzi would come to my apartment and drag me out kicking and screaming. I paced my living room for what seemed like forever. I wanted to open a bottle of wine to calm my nerves but I needed to be on game. Being tipsy around Tate was not a good idea. It was fine. I would be fine.

  Running my hands over my new jeans and straightening my tee, I looked at myself in reflection of the lift as I made my way to seventh floor. Tanzi had called five times since they had returned to Los Angeles, and she didn’t give me a choice not to come. She was as bloody persistent as her brother. I was on my way to Margarita Monday.

  “Knock, knock,” I said as I opened the door to be greeted by the sound of laughter and a bad attempt at a Mexican accent coming from the kitchen. I couldn’t hold in my chuckle as I found Ali, Lucas, Tate, Jack and Tanzi wearing oversized sombreros in the kitchen.

  “Looking good, people.” Five sets of eyes landed on me, and my face instantly flushed.

  “You came!” Tanzi shrieked as she pushed a margarita into my hand. My senses came alive with the overpowering smell of tequila. My brows furrowed as I took a sip of the highly toxic drink…so much for not drinking. This wasn’t going to end well.

  I felt like I stopped breathing as Tate nervously approached me with a tense grin and a massive sombrero in his hand. “It’s mandatory to wear a sombrero if you come to Margarita Monday,” Tate said and placed the sombrero on my head before taking a photo of me with a Polaroid camera.

  “What was that?” I laughed as my eyes tried to regain focus from the shock of the camera flash.

  Shaking the photo vigorously, he turned to me with a mischievous grin. “This is your official membership photo for the Margarita Monday Club.”

  I crashed into his body as I floundered around to rip the photo from his hands. “I look terrible,” I shrieked.

  “You look amazing,” he whispered with honesty as his eyes begged for me to show him forgiveness.

  For the first time in almost two weeks, I really got to look at him. I didn’t move from my closeness to his body, and his scent engulfed me in the way that I adored. He was still so beautifully broken to me; his eyes still showed the pain of his past but now as he looked at me, they flickered with hope.

  “It’s good to see you, Sav.”

  “Sav, here, have a shot.” Lucas interrupted the tense silence that had fallen between Tate and me and handed me a shot of tequila. Tate mumbled something under his breath and walked through the kitchen and out toward the living room, closely followed by a seething Ali. I watched his retreating figure and sighed…some things never changed. It seemed that Lucas was still an issue.

  Excusing myself, I walked down the hall toward the bathroom, stopping as I got to the open door of Tate’s bedroom. I couldn’t help but look in and remember all the amazing experiences I had in that room. From the first time we kissed, to our fiery arguments to the out of this world sex we had, it was a room of memories. I exhaled and shook my head in defeat. I remained still as I heard Ali’s voice raise only meters from me.

  “She’s here, Tate, so don’t screw this up. I’m with Lucas. He doesn’t want Sav. They are friends and you should not make her choose. Lucas has never hurt her, but you have. You don’t want to make her choose because she might not choose you.” Ali’s words were harsh but true.

  “Don’t say that, Ali,” Tate replied softly.

  “Well, someone has got to be brutally honest with you.”

  “I miss her so much; she is it for me, Ali. What will happen if I don’t get her back? I need her. I want to show her, to explain to her.”

  “Tate, you are the only one who can fix this. Now go out there and use the Connors charm that we have.”

  “Thanks, Ali, you’re the best. I’m stoked to see you happy, and if Lucas makes you smile like you have been, then I will get past the whole Lucas thing. He is in your world now and you are my world. So Ali Connors, let’s go and charm.”

  “I have you and Tanzi to look up to, so believe me, I have learned from the best.”

  I froze when Tate walked around the corner and found me. I didn’t even hear them coming. His eyes widened in surprise to find me lingering in his hall. Ali smiled sweetly at me as she passed me and walked toward the living room.

  His blue eyes dropped to the floor and he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “You heard all that?” he questioned.

  I nodded, completely lost for words.

  “I need to make this right. There is no one else for me.”

  As he stepped toward me, I took a step back and my body was pressed against the hall wall as images of us in the exact same position after our trip to San Diego flooded my memories. I was locked in his gaze. My head was fuzzy from tequila, but my heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. I knew being this close to him was dangerous; it was like dangling a piece of meat in front of a pride of hungry lions. His eyes travelled my face, lingering over my lips. I looked up at him from under my eyelashes; he looked sincere and broody. I couldn’t help but lean my face into his open palm as the fingers on his free hand trailed light strokes along my jaw and lips. In a moment of weakness, I forgot everything.

  Leaning his forehead on mine, his nose brushed mine and the closeness of our bodies was electric. His breath tickled my lips as he spoke. “Let me kiss you, Savannah,” he whispered against my lips.

  “We can’t,” I breathed in devastating response. I dropped my head as he took a step away from me. He looked shattered.

  “I should cook dinner,” Tate stammered and rushed away from me.

  I walked into the living room to find Ali and Tanzi in deep conversation. Tanzi looked less than impressed; her blue eyes looking deathly and her lips pulled tight.

  “I’m thinking I should just go,” I said, shrugging my shoulders in defeat.

  “No, you are not going. I invited you and you are staying. I don’t care what Mr. I Am a Tool thinks. I am having a night with my best friend and I don’t care if we have to leave and go to your place,” Tanzi stated matter-of-factly. You could never argue with her.

  She strutted into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of tequila and three shot glasses from the cabinet, but not before glaring at Tate in silent twin-only understanding. Tanzi set the tequila on the table and proceeded to pour three shots. I loved my girls.

  “Dinner is ready,” Tate said sheepishly as he walked into the living room. I looked up at him with drunken eyes and all I thought about was ravishing his body and allowing him to comfort the ache I had for him. This was a bad idea.

  “You are looking a bit under the weather, Sav,” Jack laughed as I slumped in the chair opposite him at the dinner table.

  “Well, your girlfriend is not playing fairly, and I had to have twice as many shots as them,” I stated and drunkenly pointed my finger at Tanzi and Ali.

  Tate laughed softly from across the table and I swayed in my chair to face him. “Don’t you laugh at my misfortune,” I smirked and tried to focus on him and tried to work out which one he was…there were two Tate’s sitting in front of me.

  Raising his hands in submission, he chuckled. “Oh, I would never dream of it.”

  “Yeah, that’s right…you know what’s best for you.” I smiled at him and cringed. Was I fli
rting with him?

  “Okay, let’s eat,” Lucas announced and the six of us started passing around the amazing Mexican feast that Tate had cooked. Bad Mexican accents were a prerequisite of dinner.

  “When are you two getting back together? I am sick of him moping around every day,” Jack questioned as he took a bite of his taco. I almost choked on my burrito.

  “Jack!” Tanzi yelled and hit him hard in the chest as silence fell across the table.

  Rubbing his chest, Jack glared at Tanzi. “What was that for? I’m just saying what everyone here is thinking.”

  All of their eyes burned into mine for confirmation, for admittance of what I was feeling or what was going through my increasingly incoherent mind. I couldn’t drag my eyes from Tate’s and as they always did, they were drawing me in like a moth to a flame. It was as if he knew that I wasn’t going to say what he wanted. He broke my gaze and looked at down at his plate in defeat.

  “I might go, I am super drunk and yeah, I should go,” I babbled nervously as I began to pull out my chair. “I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A light knocking on my door filled the air as I walked through my apartment turning off lights and getting ready for bed. The moment I walked out of Tanzi and Tate’s apartment I felt like I sobered up and after a long hot shower, I had started putting things into perspective. If I was really going to get over Tate, then I needed to put some distance between us. I would have to throw myself into work. I would start going to the gym again. I would start seeing more of Los Angeles with Mr. Davenport. I would do anything to keep my mind off Tate.

  Swinging open my front door, I gasped. “Tate, what are you doing here?”

  “Sav, you said it’s over. If it really is over, please give me one more night with you. I just want to hold you. I want be near you. I want to hear the cute little noises you make when you sleep. After that I’ll respect your wishes. I will just be Tanzi’s brother. Please, Sav, I’ve never begged you for anything before but please. Just this.”