Before (After 5)

“Don’t say that to me.” I raise a hand as if it could guard me from her words.

She doesn’t back down; she’s full-fledged pissed the fuck off and fully intending to go straight for the throat here. “You’re only saying this because you’re drunk; tomorrow you’ll go back to hating me.”

Hating her? Hating her? As if I could possibly hate her?

I back away in frustration and try to focus on how green the trees are here because of all the rain. “I don’t hate you,” I finally say. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you want me to leave you alone and never speak to you again, I will listen.” I don’t want to hear her say these words—they would kill me—but if she felt that way, if she wanted me to back off, I’d back off. “I swear, from this point on I will never come near you again. Just say the words.”

I try to imagine my life if she left. She would take with her all the color I’ve worked on painting into my life.

Before she can answer, I continue: “Tell me, Tessa, tell me that you never want to see me again.” I can’t imagine it. I step even closer and reach out to run my fingers over her bare arms. Gooseflesh rises on her skin, and her lips part.

I lean closer and whisper, “Tell me you never want to feel my touch again.” I press my fingers to her neck and gently drag the tips down the length of it, then along her collarbone. She’s practically heaving now, unable to speak. I lean even closer, my face barely an inch away from hers. I can feel the electricity under her skin; the faint hum distracts us both. “That you never want me to kiss you again . . .” I lower my voice, and she trembles.

“Tell me, Theresa.” I push for the words that I don’t want to come from her lips.

I barely hear her when she says my name, but I feel her breath puff against my lips.

“You can’t resist me, Tessa, just as I can’t resist you.” She looks hesitant but not appalled by this statement. “Stay with me tonight?” I ask her against her lips.

Tessa’s eyes dart from mine to the house, and she pulls away. I turn to see what caused her to freak out. I don’t see anything. She says she has to go.

No, she can’t go. I’m not ready to be in this house alone yet. I can’t believe I’m going to stay here.

“Fuck,” I mumble, running my fingers over my hair. “Please, please stay. Just stay with me tonight, and if you decide in the morning to tell me you don’t want to see me anymore . . .” I don’t want this to be an option, but sadly it is. “Just please stay. I am begging you, and I don’t beg, Theresa.”

I’ve never begged in my life. Is it the liquor or is it her that makes me so crazy? I can’t tell.

Tessa nods, her eyes shining under the light. “And what will I tell Noah?” His name throws a wrench into my side, reminding me that she’s only temporarily mine. I need more time with her. “He’s waiting for me, and I have his car,” she explains.

She left him back at her room? For me?

I don’t know what to make of this. Did they break up? Does he know that she’s here with me? I wonder if the boy even knows my name. It drives me fucking insane that I don’t know how involved she is with me emotionally. Steph won’t tell me shit, and Tessa gives even less away.

Does she really care so much about what her boyfriend thinks? I stare at the back of the house. The green vines are taking over the brick wall. The lights are so bright. I suspect that the reality of what she’s been doing must be hitting her. “Just tell him that you have to stay because . . . I don’t know. Don’t tell him anything. What’s the worst thing he can do?”

I’m curious as to why Noah seems to have so much control over her. She sighs; her bottom lip puffs out and she looks genuinely worried. What could be so bad . . . he would tell her mummy on her? She’s eighteen now—doesn’t she know that?

“He’s probably asleep, anyway,” I say. It’s true; he’s still on high school curfew.

Tessa shakes her head. I lean back against the ledge of the deck. “No, he has no way to get back to his hotel.”

Hotel? This kid is staying at a fucking hotel? Is he even old enough to rent a room on his own? “Hotel? Wait—he doesn’t stay with you?” I’m baffled.

“No, he has a hotel room close by.” Tessa’s eyes drop to the wooden deck floor and she shuffles her feet. She’s uncomfortable.

“And you stay there with him?”

“No, he stays there,” she quietly responds, looking embarrassed. She keeps her eyes on the ground and continues, “And I stay in my room.”

No fucking way. Does he even like her? Does he like women at all? I mean, come on, look at her! “Is he straight?” I can’t help but ask. There’s no way he is. Unless he’s cheating on her, which would be fucked up—but would help my case tremendously.

Not that she’s not doing the same thing to him.

Tessa’s mouth pops open in horror. “Of course he is!”

It’s insane to me that she doesn’t see anything weird about her boyfriend not wanting to stay with her. “Sorry, but something is not right there. If you were mine, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you. I would fuck you every chance I had.” It’s true. I would wake her up every morning with my face buried between her thighs. I would put her to bed every night by blowing her mind and making her scream my name.

A blanket of redness flushes down Tessa’s face, and she looks away from my eyes. I love the way my words affect her. The darkness is giving me a headache. The trees are moving too much, their trunks twisting in unnatural ways. Also, I want to be inside, alone with her. Especially after the night I’ve had.

I turn to Tessa and can’t keep my eyes off her parted lips. “Let’s go inside. The trees are swaying back and forth. I think that’s my cue that I’ve had way too much to drink.”

Tessa looks at the house and back to me. “You’re staying here?”

I nod and reach for her hand. She’s staying here, too. I still can’t believe I’m staying in Ken’s house after the shit that man pulled. “Yeah, and so are you. Let’s go.” I take her hand before she can fight me again.

We walk into the house, and she tries to move her hand from mine by walking faster than me. I take a longer step as we pass through the kitchen.