Fatal Attraction (Dark Desires 4)

By the time we got home, it was dark outside, and Brianna went straight in, passing out on her bed. I was wasted, and I stumbled into the spare bedroom and lay down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I pulled my phone out and dialed Tanner, not giving a shit at that moment. It was amazing how inhibitions could be completely forgotten when you had an entire day of drinking under your belt.

“Hellllooo,” he sang with a laugh.

“Well, hello there sexy pants,” I said. “Still getting wasted with my dad?”

“Ah, the old guys have folded,” he said, obviously tipsy. “You sound like you’re feeling good though.”

“Brianna has all the cures.” I giggled.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m pretty confident my dick would be a good cure right now for you.”

“I’m pretty sure your dick was a pretty good reason I got drunk in the first place,” I replied laughing.

“Ouch,” he said. “I thought I was better than that, Ava.”

“Trust me, you were phenomenal,” I replied with laughter.

We talked for a little bit longer, sending little flirty and dirty quips back and forth to each other. When the ceiling started to spin with the fan, I said my goodnights and hung up the phone, dropping it in the floor and rolling over in the bed. Before my eyes collapsed shut under the weight of whiskey, I thought about Tanner and tried desperately to let the feelings inside of me float away with the alcohol. Whether I liked it or not, it was pretty obvious I had it bad for this guy.

Chapter 19: Tanner

Getting drunk was fun, waking up Sunday with a massive hangover was definitely not fun. My body did not recover from the liquor like it used to. I groaned, hearing Dean up in the other room. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was all over the place. The light shining in around the blinds on my windows was painful, and my head felt like it had its own damn heartbeat. I looked down at my phone and growled, remembering the conversation I had the night before with Ava. We were both really wasted and couldn’t help but flirt with each other. I was just glad that phone call came after I had shut myself in my room, too drunk to really function any longer. Dean decided after that first bar that he needed a day when he didn’t have to be responsible for anything. He was ready to take it back to our college days, the only problem being the fact that we were old dudes, and our bodies were definitely not used to consuming that much alcohol. I was pretty sure Dean had thrown up in an alley off of Fourteenth and proceeded to then whoop and holler the entire walk back to the apartment. Why we didn’t grab a cab, I will never actually figure out.

I sat up in bed slowly, every inch giving me a new reason not to ever drink again. The shots at the last three places had sent me over the edge. I’d tried to drink slowly, knowing that Dean really gave no fucks, but after the first four places, I stopped caring anymore as well. It was a downhill slide after that.

“Tanner,” I heard Dean shout. “Wake the fuck up.”

I didn’t know why but there was something in his voice that was not okay. I looked around for my phone but remembered that I left it on the kitchen counter after getting a glass of water and hanging up with Ava. I groaned and pulled myself from the bed, grabbing some shorts and attempting to put them on as the world spun below me. I needed an IV of coffee pumping right into my soul in order to survive this Sunday morning. What the fuck was Dean doing up so early?

I walked out of the bedroom and turned the corner, freezing as Dean stood there, staring angrily at me. I shook my head, trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if Dean was standing there looking like he wanted to punch me in the face. Nope, he was definitely standing there with his hands on his hips and his hair wild on his head. He was holding my phone in his hand and gritting his teeth, and immediately, I knew, he had figured it out. But how?

“What are you doing?” I walked over and took the phone from his hand, walking into the kitchen and flipping on the coffee maker. “You normally go through people’s phones?”

“I was curious,” he said angrily.

“About what? My life is dead boring,” I replied. “Take a deep breath and relax. You’re still drunk.”

“No, unfortunately your phone sobered me up really fast,” he replied.

“Okay, what the hell is all of this about?” I turned toward him and put my phone on the counter. “Just get it out, whatever it is you are looking to say.”

“I know what girl you were talking dirty to last night,” he said angrily. “It wasn’t just some random Ava. It was my Ava. It was my damn daughter.”

I turned toward the coffee pot and sobered up really fast. He had found my messages to Ava, and he knew I was seeing his daughter. This was bad, really, really bad. I turned back around to face him, and I could tell I had very little time to explain myself before this turned really awkward. However, as I stood there staring at him, no words came from my mouth. I had fucked up, and he knew I was sleeping with his daughter. When I’d thought about telling him about Ava, it was supposed to be the other way around where he found out she was working for me, and not that I was sleeping with her. But there I stood, faced with the reality that he got the worst of the news before I could even preface it with anything.

“Dean,” I said putting up my hands. “I can explain.”

He gritted his teeth and shook his head, walking into the living room. But I really couldn’t explain, not in any way, shape, or form. I could sit here and confess my undying love for the girl, and he would still be absolutely livid. There was no easy way around any of this. I had fucked up, and now Ava was going to be so pissed, I was sure I wouldn’t ever have a chance to fix what I had done.

“I heard you talking dirty to some girl last night,” he said. “I was wasted and figured I’d do a little flirting with her, too, after you went to bed, so I looked up who it was. I can’t fucking believe you’re sleeping with my daughter.”

He stood up and walked over to the window, staring out into the city. He was shaking with anger, and I wasn’t sure how to diffuse the situation. There was only so much I could do without making everything worse. I walked into the living room and stood there, not sure whether to approach him or not. I took in a deep breath and walked over, putting my hand on his shoulder. Without realizing what he was doing, he whipped toward me, grabbed me by the throat, and pushing me up against the glass.

“You were supposed to be my friend,” he growled. “I trusted you, and the whole time we were making up, you were fucking my daughter. You didn’t think it would be a good idea to let me know that when I was apologizing for all of those years of anger and bitterness between us? You didn’t think that it would be a good idea to be forthright and honest with me?”

“Dean,” I said grabbing his arms. “At that time, we weren’t even sure there was anything between us. We still are trying to figure that out.”

He loosened his grip and shook his head, laughing. Suddenly he reared back and punched me straight in the jaw, sending me to the ground. He growled over top of me and turned, walking over to the couch and sitting down, his face in his hands. I shook my head, trying to loosen the dizziness from my vision. I guess I deserved that, no matter how much I wanted to lie to myself. I probably deserved a lot more than that. I pulled myself off the floor and wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth.