Scorched

by Jennifer Armentrout

  An image of my father formed in my thoughts.

  For many, many years, he’d hidden the truth from his colleagues, but not from us. Every moment he was home, he drank. Didn’t matter if it was my birthday or Brody’s. Or Thanksgiving or Christmas. So many special moments he’d missed, passed out on the deck or in his bedroom. Ten years ago, when Mom had threatened to leave him, he’d sobered up, started going to AA meetings and all that jazz. It had been a rough start and he’d had to take a sabbatical from his practice, but he’d made it through.

  I wasn’t like my dad.

  I didn’t drink every day, but…as I drew in another shaky breath, I opened my eyes. I wasn’t stupid. Alcoholism didn’t mean someone drank all the time, but I didn’t have that problem. No way. I would not slip down that rabbit hole, especially after seeing what it had done to my family. I wasn’t that weak.

  Maybe I did drink too much on occasion. Okay. I totally did that. And maybe very few people who knew me in real life actually took me seriously because of it. And maybe… God, I was a mess with or without a drink sometimes.

  A lot of times.

  Sipping the tea, I let my gaze wander over the tall pines surrounding the backyard. What in the world was I going to do about Tanner? Just the thought of him caused my chest to clench. He thought I was a mess.

  That…that had hurt. Still tore through me, because I was a mess. I’d proved that last night, hadn’t I?

  Blinking back the sudden rush of tears, I gave a little shake of my head. I felt like I’d disappointed him somehow. Like I had let down my parents when I’d told them I no longer wanted to go to med school. Like I’d disappointed Sydney when she had kindly suggested that I talk to someone when she discovered I had anxiety attacks and I’d told her that I didn’t need to talk to anyone.

  But worse yet, I was disappointed in myself, and I couldn’t go back and change anything.

  The last couple of times that I’d had that feeling of being overwhelmed and out of control, I’d been able to stop it before I’d needed meds. It had been well over a year and then some since I’d actually had one. If I hadn’t been so drunk, I knew I would’ve been able to stop it. I just knew it.

  The sliding glass door opened and I looked over, my heart lodging in my throat when I saw that it was Tanner. Sleep clung to his eyes. The shadow of growth along his jaw gave him a rough, sexy appearance. Normally, he was so clean-shaven. He only had on a pair of flannel bottoms as he stopped in the middle of the deck, raising a hand and idly rubbing his palm against the center of his chest.

  I was struck mute, partly embarrassed about last night, and his disheveled look was really just too damn attractive for this early in the morning. When I rolled out of bed, I looked like a redheaded Chewbacca.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice gruff as he lowered his arm. “You’re up early.”

  I nodded, clutching my tea to my chest. “I…I got a lot of sleep last night.”

  He nodded slowly, and when he didn’t respond, the silence stretched out between us until it became so awkward that my cheeks started to burn. I was about to get up and flee, which probably also included shoving my head under a blanket, when Tanner cleared his throat.

  “Mind if I sit?” He jerked his chin at the space at the end of the lounge chair I sat on.

  Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Quiet, I watched him sit down, resting his arms on his bent knees. I knew we were going to have a talk after last night, but I’d really hoped it wouldn’t be this soon, because I had no idea what to really think about everything and I felt like I needed a hard drink to fortify myself for this conversation.

  Well, that wasn’t the right thought to have, all things considered.

  He angled his head toward me and his troubled gaze met mine. My stomach dipped as his shoulders tensed. “About last night,” he started, voice low. “I want you to know that… what you went through? The anxiety attack? I wish I’d known you had those.”

  And I wished he’d never found out.

  “I would’ve liked to have been able to help you through it, but I want you to know that I don’t think anything… weird about it. That I don’t think any differently about you because of it.”

  Only a very little part of me believed that to be true.

  “I want to get back to all of that. I want to learn more about it,” he continued. “But, first, I need to tell you this. I shouldn’t have said what I did, the way I said it.”

  A moment passed. “No. You shouldn’t have,” I agreed, lowering my gaze to my half-drunk tea. “But…you were right about it. I’m a—”

  “You’re not a mess,” he cut in.

  If only he really knew how messy my head was sometimes. That attack last night? Just the tip of a Titanic-sized fuckedup iceberg.

  “Seriously,” he continued. “That was a dickhead move. I shouldn’t have said that. So I’m sorry. Really, I am.” He paused. “I’ve been saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot lately.”

  “You have,” I murmured, setting the tea on the small, round table beside the lounge. “Tanner, I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

  He stretched out his legs, wiggling his toes. “I worry about you,” he said after a moment, surprising me. I’d vaguely recalled him saying something like that last night. “I didn’t mean to lose my cool with you. It’s just that you—”

  “I drink,” I finished for him, flushing. “That doesn’t make me an alcoholic.”

  Tanner didn’t respond for a long moment and then he raised his shoulders in a helpless shrug, and I knew my statement had fallen like a pile of bricks between us. A few may have landed on my head. I folded my arms around my waist, wishing I had something other than my word to back up what I’d just said, but I really didn’t.

  What I did say, I hadn’t planned on. “I’m single because I haven’t dated anyone that made me want to put the effort into a relationship.”

  His features tensed. “Andrea—”

  “The guys I date aren’t really relationship-worthy,” I said, and I couldn’t shut up. Once I opened my mouth, the words kept coming. “There are guys that are. Like you and Kyler. The ones you want to latch onto and never let go. And there are guys who are good for going out with to the bar and maybe spending a couple of hours with. Hooking up. Nothing more. You bring them home, hoping they don’t puke all over the place.” I laughed hoarsely as he watched me. “That is, if you bring them home. So, none of them I’ve ever wanted to be in a relationship with. Hell, half of them I wouldn’t look twice at while sober.”

  His brows knitted.

  “Well, let me just clarify, that it’s not like an entire football team worth of guys I’ve been with. Nothing like that, but that’s not the point.” I shrugged. “I’m just the female version of them.”

  “What?” Shock colored his tone.

  “You know. I’m not really relationship-worthy. I’m the girl who drinks too much, does stupid shit, and is either really funny when drunk or really annoying.” My lips trembled even though my tone was light. “I am a mess. I know that.”

  “No.” Tanner shook his head. “You are not that. You’re not a mess. You are relationship-worthy, Andrea.” He twisted toward me, expression taut. “Fuck. What I said last night—I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if it makes you think that.”

  I waved my hand. It was dismissive, but that was the last thing I felt. Nothing about this was something I could throw away. “I know what I am, Tanner. I know what guys think when they see me at a bar. It’s the same thing I think when I see one of them. Good for a few things, nothing long-term.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Meeting his gaze, I smiled weakly. “I’m not trying to wallow in self-pity or make you feel bad for me. I just know what you all—”

  He moved incredibly fast. Standing, he reached down and cupped my cheeks, tilting my head back. I had a second to take a breath as shock held me immobile. He lowered his head to mine.

  Tanner kissed me.

 
Chapter 19

  Andrea

  His mouth on mine was the last thing I expected. Shocked straight to the core, I didn’t move. Every muscle in my body locked up, and I wasn’t even sure if I breathed or not. He was kissing me again.

  And dammit, he really knew how to kiss.

  Tanner swept his lips over mine, once and then twice, the touch slight and soft as a whisper. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t remember being kissed so…so gently. Like he was asking permission for more with the touch of his mouth. All of the kisses I could ever recall were hard and wet and oftentimes messy, but this was soft and warm and so incredibly tender. A lot like the ones before, but this…this felt different.

  He tilted his head to the side and the pressure of his mouth increased sweetly as he curved his hand around the nape of my neck. My brain clicked off, and the entire conversation faded away like smoke caught in a fierce wind, as did everything I’d been feeling up to that moment. All I could feel was his kiss.

  And then he took it beyond the questioning tenderness.

  He made this sound in the back of his throat when my lips parted to his, and that questioning kiss became something else, something deeper and more sensual. His tongue glided over mine, and he tasted of mint. I decided in that moment that was the best flavor in the world.

  My heart pounded and my pulse skipped fast-forward, and his hand tightened along the back of my neck, his long fingers tangling in my still-damp curls. His mouth moved over mine in determination and when his tongue flicked over the roof of my mouth, there was no stopping the breathy moan.

  Tanner shifted, stretching his long and lean body over mine as he guided me down against the lounge, pressing my back into the thick cushion with his weight. Oh dear. My hands fluttered to his shoulders. My heart moved into cardiac-episode territory. His chest was warm, seeping through the thin material of my dress. His other hand drifted over my hip and then squeezed, wringing a gasp from me.

  My hands tightened on his shoulders, the blunt tips of my nails digging in. What he was doing was like taking a cannonball to my senses. Every part of me was scattered by the pure pleasure of a kiss, and I’d…I’d never been kissed like this before. Like I was something to cherish and worship. Like Tanner was doing everything to hold himself back from going for more, and I could feel the restraint in the taut lines of his body, in the way his body trembled and his hand clenched my hip.

  When he lifted his mouth from mine, a sound I barely recognized came out of me. His answering chuckle was deep, husky, and when he rested his forehead against mine, I blinked my eyes open. I was in a daze.

  And I said the first thing that came to mind. “What was that for?”

  Tanner laughed again, and I could feel it rumbling through my body. “Only you would ask what a kiss is for.” He slid his hand up to my waist, leaving a wake of shivers in his path. “You’re worth a million times more than what you give yourself credit for.”

  All I could do was stare.

  His eyes were a brilliant blue, the shade of the sky above us. “And I want to punch myself in the fucking nuts for putting that kind of thought in your head.” He paused. “Well, not right now. I think I’d do permanent damage if I did that at this second.”

  I blinked slowly as my hand slipped down to his chest. Under my palm, I could feel his heart beating nearly as fast as mine. “You didn’t…” I swallowed hard. “You didn’t put that thought in my head.”

  He cocked his head to the side. A moment passed between us. “Was it there before?”

  The truth of what I’d just admitted was like being doused in ice water. Pressing against his chest, relief flooded me as he lifted up and returned to where he’d been sitting before our mouths had decided to get super-friendly with one another. I needed that space in that moment. My thoughts and feelings were all over the place, swirling together and forming a cyclone of messy emotions that whipped away the warmth of the kiss.

  I shook my head, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. I was sure “emotionally unstable” was already added to the list of traits Tanner probably strung together whenever he thought of me, but I really didn’t need to add to it. Actually, he seemed to think highly of me. My heart did a little flip, but my stomach dipped when I realized his good opinion of me wouldn’t last long. It hadn’t before, so why would now be any different?

  My lips still tingled from the kiss, but there was a sudden, sharp stabbing pain in my chest that felt so very real. It stole my breath and twisted up my insides. Tanner wasn’t the person who made me feel like…like I wasn’t worth it. Yeah, he’d said some crap that kind of reinforced it, but that thought—that mentality—had always been there, under my skin and dipping every thought in acidic bitterness. To be honest, that…that had always been in my head, ever since I was a young girl. There was no real reason other than me being the reason. I hadn’t been bullied as a child. My heart had never really been broken. Sure, it had been wounded but never shattered. My father had been a drunk, but I’d grown up in a loving family with all the means in the world. I had access to more things than most, but my head…

  My head just didn’t work right.

  The moment someone like Tanner truly realized that, he wasn’t going to want anything to do with me. And I needed to be so very careful with that, because despite what’d happened when I’d been a freshman and he’d gotten with my roommate, he was the kind of guy who was worth it, and losing someone like him would surely smash my heart to smithereens.

  “Andy,” Tanner said as he placed his hand on my arm. “Talk to me.”

  Drawing in a shallow breath, I looked at him and I wanted him to kiss me again. I really did. And I wanted him to pull me into his arms. I really wanted that, but that’s not what I did. I sorted through all the emotions churning inside me and I mentally recoiled from the spark of hope and anticipation that blossomed in my chest. I settled on the one tangible thing I always latched onto, the one emotion that protected me no matter what.

  Anger.

  It was the wrong thing. I knew that and I also knew the kind of sadness I felt, the restlessness that seemed to invade my very core, it was more destructive than any risk I could take, but I couldn’t…couldn’t do this. “I don’t want to talk to you.” As his eyes widened with surprise, I swung my legs off the lounge and stood. “And I prefer to pretend that nothing happened between us.”

  Tanner drew back like I’d kicked him in the face, and I didn’t feel a moment of satisfaction. There was only a riptide of frustration and bitter self-loathing that chewed through me like a cancer.

  Our gazes met, and the stark disbelief in his stare was hard to acknowledge, but even harder to look upon was the twinge of hurt I saw lurking in there. Guilt flooded my system, and I turned away.

  I’d made it to the door, my fingers brushing over the handle when his voice stopped me.

  “Don’t walk away from me,” he said. “Please.”

  Tanner

  Coming to my feet, I was prepared to chase her ass down if she ignored me and opened that door. There was no way I was letting her walk away after what’d just happened. No fucking way.

  My heart pounded like a steel drum and my pulse was still thrumming. All from a kiss—a simple kiss. Never had a kiss made me feel like that, and I’d be damned if she stomped all over it with absolutely no explanation.

  Andrea faced me, her face pale enough that the freckles stood out. She opened her mouth, but didn’t speak.

  I took a step toward her, stopping when I saw her hands close into fists. Knowing her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she threw a punch. “I didn’t intend on doing that. Kissing you,” I admitted. “But I sure as hell do not regret doing it or anything we’ve shared, and you’re going to stand there and tell me you do?”

  Her throat worked on a swallow. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t?” My brows flew up. “You want to pretend I didn’t just kiss you? That you didn’t kiss me back?”

  Color poured across her chee
ks. “I didn’t kiss you back.”

  “Oh, bullshit, Andy, you kissed me back. We both know that,” I said. “Your tongue was dancing just as much as mine was. Both of us are damn old enough to admit we liked something. I more than liked that. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

  She looked away, shaking her head as she folded her arms under her chest. “You…you don’t remember.”

  “What?” I ran my hand over my head, clasping the back of my neck. “Are you talking about the classes you said we shared?” I still couldn’t believe that. There was no way I wouldn’t remember her.

  “See? You don’t even remember seeing me, not once, but I noticed you.” The words came out in a rush, almost too hard to follow. “I had the biggest crush on you and every time we had class, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you.” She laughed hoarsely. “Yeah. I was…I was practically horrified by the notion of going up to you and doing something stupid, but I never did work up the courage. Or maybe my roommate Clara just got to you first.”

  There was that name again. Clara. I lowered my hand as a weird sensation filled me. Her roommate got to me first. I felt my stomach dip as an old, worn-out memory wiggled free—of me and this girl I’d met one night, at a UMD game…

  Oh shit.

  She stared at the deck. “I came back to the dorm late one night, and normally Clara hung a sock around the doorknob if she had someone with her, but she didn’t. I opened the door and—”

  “You saw me with her,” I finished as the spotty memory formed. “Shit, Andy. I barely remember her.”

  She snorted. “Nice.”

  I winced. “Yeah, okay, that sounds bad, but it’s true. I remember the door to the room opening, but when I looked—”

  “When you stopped screwing my roommate long enough to look,” she corrected.

  Wow. Okay. “You’re right. Shit. I don’t know what to say, but I didn’t know you back then. I wish I had.” The truth of that statement surprised even me. “But I didn’t, and it’s probably a good thing. Obviously, I was a man-whore back then.”