Where the Darkness Goes

Chapter 37

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

TESSA — AGE 17

“I don’t even want to go to this stupid party,” I whine to Britney, who is sitting on the floor applying another coat of lipstick. She loves to mix the colors until she gets the perfect one. Tonight she’s doing a pale mauve and a rich, dark red to get a muted, deep red. I could never pull something like that off, but Britney couldn’t find a color that looks bad on her if she tried. “Why don’t we just go to the movies instead? Dark Shadows is supposed to be good.”

“It’s your brother’s graduation-slash-moving-away-from-this-dump-truck-of-a-town party.” She stares at me pointedly, rubbing her lips together. She puckers, pleased with her appearance, and turns around. “Just because Garrett is a weird little man-baby all of the sudden doesn’t mean you’re not going to eventually regret missing this.”

I chew on my lip. She’s right. I know she’s right, and still, I hate this. I don’t want to go.

“I know you and Will are in kind of a weird place since Cassidy died, and I wish I had better advice there, but what I can tell you is that if you don’t go to celebrate with him tonight before he leaves, you’re going to be angry with yourself in the future when you guys work things out. And I’d be willing to bet the same goes for Garrett.”

“Garrett dumped me via text six weeks ago and has been completely ignoring me since. How can you possibly think we’ll ever be okay again?”

“Because you love him. And look, far be it from me to defend a man, but I think he loves you, too.” She stands up and moves over to the bed where I’m sitting, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I won’t pretend to understand how guys’ minds work, but I do know what it looks like when they’re into you, and that boy is in L-O-V-E. I don’t know why he broke up with you. Probably because he’s an idiot, but maybe he truly thinks he’s being kinder to you by not making you do the long-distance thing. Either way”—she leans in conspiratorially—“the best way to get even? Show up looking like your hot self and let him know what he’s missing.” She kisses my cheek, leaving a perfect, red impression on my skin. I drop my jaw and glare at her.

“You’re suggesting I make him jealous?”

“With a capital J.” She winks.

When we arrive at the party, Britney has worked her magic on me. My dark hair has been curled into loose waves, my makeup is just a bit edgier than I’d do myself, and I’m wearing one of her minidresses.

Our first stop is the drink table, where Britney pours us two shots of vodka. Vodka is always her go-to because she says it doesn’t give you bad breath. “Okay, one shot for courage.” She passes me a glass and we tap them together. I don’t even think about the million reasons this might be a bad idea. I just swallow it.

The fire burns my throat, and I suck in a deep breath as she takes the glass back, nodding and smiling. “Attagirl. One more.” She refills the glass.

“What’s this one for?” I ask, my throat still burning.

“For luck.” I squeeze my eyes shut and down the next shot, coughing as I swallow it. She pats me on the back like a proud momma. “Now, let’s go get you over him and under someone else.”

I swallow again, trying to catch my breath as she places the shot glasses down and moves us through the party with expert precision. “The first step,” she reminds me, “is to find someone near him, but not in his direct line of sight, and flirt. Hard. Dance with him. Whatever.”

“I’m not only here to make him jealous,” I remind her feebly, but my eyes are already scanning the space for Garrett. It’s hard—harder than I’ve wanted to admit. I’ve lost a best friend and the boy I fell for in one fell swoop, and I still don’t understand why.

“Duh. You’re here to dance with your best girl.” She bumps my hip. “Seriously, you’re going to feel so much better after tonight, I promise. He doesn’t get to make you hide away. These are your friends, too.”

I hug her with one arm, and a gust of wind rushes under my dress, reminding me how short it is.

“Oh. Him. ” She points to a guy I don’t recognize across the room while I’m distracted by tugging my dress down. He’s standing at the head of a table where they’ve set up beer pong, chatting with two other guys.

“Who is that?”

She turns to me, eyes wide. “Do you remember Connor Wade? He graduated two years ago.”

I squint at him. Everyone knows Connor, who was easily the most popular person in his grade. Last I heard, he joined a band and moved to Nashville. “Doesn’t he work with that country singer? What’s his name?”

“Clayton Beckett,” she says with a nod. “Yeah. He’s his guitar player. They’re getting ready to go on their first tour. I can’t believe he’s here.”

I grin at her. “Are you sure you don’t want him? Is that drool?” I pretend to wipe under her lip, and she swats my hand away with a scowl.

“Don’t be silly. Tonight’s about you, and this is just a sacrifice I’ll have to make.” She raises her brows playfully as she says this.

“Connor will not be interested in me.” I sigh. “He’s twenty. He’s probably just here because his mom teaches Sunday school with mine. I’m sure she told him to come say goodbye to Will before he leaves.”

“Girl.” She looks me up and down. “You’re so hot tonight, I’d do you.” She bumps my hip. “And I’m ninety-six percent straight. Now, come on. I’ll introduce you.” She grabs my hand and drags me across the room and directly up to Connor, who looks over from his conversation, slowly losing his train of thought.

“Um, hi.”

“Connor,” Britney says, ever the unashamed, unafraid diplomat. “Do you remember?—”

“Tessa Becker.” He nods, cutting her off. His voice is warmer than I remembered, friendlier. “Of course I do. Good to see you. Your mom still brings me a pumpkin pie every time I’m in town.”

I smile, thinking about Mom. “I didn’t know that.” It doesn’t surprise me, though. She does so much that I don’t see. “I also didn’t know you’d be here. Welcome home.”

“I was in town for a quick visit before we head out on tour.” He shrugs. “Not sure if you’ve heard, but I’m going on tour with Clayton Beckett.”

“I—”

Britney cuts me off before I can confirm that I knew. “No way!” she exclaims. “We hadn’t heard.” She beams at me broadly. “Why don’t you and Connor go somewhere where you can talk, like the kitchen maybe, and he can tell you all about it?”

“Oh, I don’t?—”

“I’m happy to,” he says. “It’ll be good to catch up.” When I look over, I notice his eyes lingering on my body before they bounce back up to my eyes. When Garrett looked at me, it made me feel flushed. With Connor, I just feel leered at.

“I…uh…” In the kitchen, Garrett is leaning against the fridge. He’s surrounded by his friends, my brother included, but he’s clearly not part of the conversation that’s happening. Instead, he’s staring at me.

Glaring, really.

I stare around him as if I’d been just scanning the room and actually hadn’t seen him at all, then step closer to Connor and smile. “Sounds great.”

“Cool.” He puts a hand on my shoulder as Britney steps back and lets us pass. “Did you graduate this year?”

“Next,” I remind him. “My brother graduated this year.”

“Right. I guess I always thought you two were twins or something.” He takes a sip of his beer. “I have to say, you really grew up.” His eyes are on my breasts again. “I mean really.”

I force myself to smile. “Thanks.” At least he’s hot, even if he is obnoxious. Stopping in the doorway, I lean against the frame. “So tell me more about the tour. That must be so exciting.”

“Yeah, Clayton’s a good guy. Killer musician, too. We’ve got sixteen cities lined up, but we’ll probably have more before it’s over.” He bobs his head. “You like our music?”

I’ve only heard Clayton’s single that they overplay on the radio, and I thought it was too simple for my taste, but I smile and lie. “Love it. It’s so crazy I know a celebrity.”

He feigns humility. “Oh, well, I’m just glad to be doing what I love.” Stepping closer, he has me boxed in as his hand comes to my shoulder, playing with the strap on my dress. “You know, I could probably arrange for you to meet him if you want.”

I can feel Garrett’s eyes on me, burning into me, and it spurs me on. I put a hand on Connor’s chest, eyes wide. “You really think so?”

He nods, running his tongue over his lip. “Oh, sure. We’re real good friends, too. I could maybe get you some backstage passes once we’re out on the road.”

“That would be amazing.”

He runs a finger over my cheek. “I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve hung out.” We’ve never hung out, unless you count Sunday school, but I don’t argue. “Hey, I’m having trouble hearing you in here. Do you want to step outside?”

“Um, sure.” I risk a glance at where Garrett should be only to find he’s not there. I deflate in an instant. Maybe he really doesn’t care.

Before I can think about whether to amend my answer, Connor pulls me out of the kitchen and onto the back porch. It’s dark out here, with no streetlights or neighbors for miles. Quiet too. I can hear the steady thrum of music coming from inside the house, but it’s softened. I take in a deep breath.

“It’s finally starting to warm up. You know, I’m thinking of going to college in Nashville. Do you like it there?”

“Oh, it’s amazing. Beautiful city, beautiful music.” He chuckles deep in his throat, then steps closer, brushing hair back from my face. “Beautiful women. But this place has that going for it, too.”

I swallow, heat climbing my neck. Suddenly, the darkness is suffocating. Is he really, truly hitting on me right now? Am I okay with it?

He nudges me backward against the side of the house, boxing me in, and I try my best to enjoy the attention. Garrett doesn’t want me, and I need to move on.

Connor is here, he’s gorgeous and successful, he’s a good guy if a bit annoying. There’s no reason I shouldn’t let him kiss me.

Which is exactly what he’s about to do.

His lips find mine as I think the words, almost as if I willed it to happen. He tastes of beer and something bitter like cigarettes. His hands are rough—calloused and cold—and they go to my neck, not my face like Garrett’s always do.

I pull away from him, angry with myself. I can’t do this. I can’t compare everything and everyone to Garrett.

“Hey, sorry. Something wrong? Did I misread this?” Connor pulls back in an instant, both hands off of me.

“No, I’m sorry, I?—”

“Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to go back inside?”

He’s so kind and so hot I’m only realizing now how badly I need kind and hot. Someone with no strings attached. Someone who doesn’t even live here. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

If I go back into that party, I’m just going to want to leave. I’ll go home and pout while Garrett is here having fun. Not missing me.

I don’t have to love Connor. This can just be fun. Britney is always having fun with guys, and she never gets her heart broken. I can do this.

“No,” I say firmly. The alcohol in my belly warms me, giving me courage. Britney was right about needing it to get through this. “No.” I step up on my tiptoes, kissing him again. His kiss is fine. Nothing spectacular or mind blowing, but maybe this is normal. Maybe you’re not supposed to end up with the guy whose kisses blow your mind because it hurts too much when you lose him.

Fine is enough. Fine is great.

I kiss him harder, faster, but he eases back, slowing our kisses down. Doesn’t he see I don’t want slow? I want fast. I want him to kiss me like I’m his first breath of oxygen after he nearly drowned. Like it’s my kiss solely that’s keeping him alive.

His hand slides down my side, grazing my breast, and I wrap a leg around him, pulling him closer. He’s being so gentle with me, and I hate it.

His hands wrap around me, cupping my ass, and I rock my hips forward, forcing away all thought. He presses closer to me, his hardness resting against my stomach.

Someone clears their throat in the darkness, and we jump apart like two kids being caught by their angry parents. As my eyes connect with Garrett’s outline in the moonlight, as the faintest scent of him hits my nose on the wind, my heart seizes.

“Sorry, man, ocupado ,” Connor teases, cupping my shoulder.

Garrett doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at him. Doesn’t acknowledge his presence. He’s only looking at me.

“Can you give us a minute?” I ask.

Connor waits for Garrett to answer, not realizing I’m looking at him.

Finally, Garrett glances his way. “She’s talking to you.”

Connor’s smile falls as he looks down at me. “Oh. Shit. Um, yeah, sorry. Okay. Well, I’ll, uh, be inside when you’re done.” He kisses my lips again, but only briefly. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” I’m not fine. I’m pretty sure I’m having a heart attack. Is this real? Is he really here?

With that, Connor makes his way back inside, leaving us alone in the moonlight. As the door shuts, Garrett crosses the porch, his footsteps so slow it’s painful. When he reaches the railing, he leans against it. Several excruciating seconds later, his eyes flick up to meet mine, and my heart rams itself into my ribcage like a feral animal caught in a trap.

It’s as if it screams, ‘Mine,’ at the mere sight of him.

As if it doesn’t know the devastating news yet. As if the rest of my body can’t bring itself to tell it.

Good. Better it doesn’t know, really.

“Didn’t realize musicians were your thing.” His voice is, at once, a balm and a strip of sandpaper scraped across my bare skin. I’ve missed him, yet I hate him. My emotions war inside me, and all I can do is stand here and stare at him, trying not to cry.

“Didn’t realize it was any of your business.”

He blinks. “How much have you had to drink?”

“A few drinks. I’m not drunk.”

His lips twitch, but otherwise his face is steady and unreadable. “Do you like him?”

“Why do you care, Garrett?”

“I’m curious.”

“You broke up with me. Then you ghosted me. I’m allowed to move on. To date other people. To kiss other people. To sleep with other people.”

He flinches at each word. Then, a slow nod. “If that’s what you want.”

It’s not what I want. What I want is to have him back. What I want is to understand why he left in the first place. “It’s all that I want.”

“Connor?”

“Connor,” I confirm, though I’d half forgotten his name before Garrett reminded me.

“You like it when he touches you?”

Something deep inside me twinges. “Y-yes.” I can’t hide the shake of my voice.

His lips press together, and he stares at me. His chest rising and falling is the only sign that he’s still alive.

He lifts his foot, taking a steady, agonizing step toward me. Then another. Then another. He doesn’t say a word until he’s right in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his skin. He rests an arm on the wall above my head, leaning in until we’re nearly forehead to forehead.

“You like when he kisses you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Yeah?” He lifts his free hand to my chin, tilting it up to face him. “How does he kiss you, Little Bit? Is it soft and gentle?” He presses his lips to mine, barely a breath of a kiss, and I don’t have time to react because I’m in such shock. I wish I’d savored it more. My lips search for his in the air, but he’s too far away. “Or does he kiss you the way you like? Does he kiss you like he hates you?” His mouth claims mine in a fiery passion, equal parts flame and fury. He nips at my lips, sucks on my tongue. He kisses like he’s trying to kill me, like he wants my every last breath for his own. No one’s kiss has ever been as all-consuming as Garrett’s is. When he stops, I’m out of breath and panting, embarrassed by how easily I crumbled.

He doesn’t back up or give me space to think, just stays right in front of me as if the kiss never happened. “I asked you a question.”

“He…it’s fine. It’s enough.”

“Enough?” He scoffs. His hand trails down the front of me, over my breast. My nipple responds to his touch, hardening at the brush of contact. Slowly, his fingers tease their way down my stomach. He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me. My mouth is open, waiting, begging for him to do something. Anything. I should be embarrassed. I should tell him to stop, but I can’t. I won’t.

I inhale as his fingers reach my thigh and brush the hem of my dress. Entire countries are discovered, founded, established, and involved in wars within the time it takes his fingers to skate up my thigh and brush against my panties. He nips my lips. “You deserve more than enough .” His fingers brush across the fabric slowly, oh so slowly, and then, when I’m ready to combust, his fingers meet skin.

I cry out before he’s had time to do a single thing, so shocked and turned on and disgusted with myself I can’t do anything but close my eyes and enjoy the sensation.

His face slides against the side of mine until his mouth is next to my ear. “Look at me.” His fingers stop and my eyes rip open.

He pulls back to his original position, face just in front of mine. “Don’t you dare close your eyes and think about someone else when I’m the one who makes you feel this way. Do you hear me?” His fingers begin moving inside me again, waves of sensation coursing through my muscles. “I’m the only one who makes you feel this way, aren’t I, baby?”

I whimper. It’s all the answer I can give as my legs shake, threatening to give out. The gentle massage of his thumb sends currents of desire through every part of me, and I drop my head back, eyes closed.

He stops. Pulls his hand away.

“No,” I beg. My eyes are back on him in a second. With a look of pure fire, he drags his middle finger over my bottom lip, and I can taste myself on his skin.

The world is silenced by the beating of my heart as I watch him lift the same finger to his own mouth and draw an identical line across his bottom lip. A wicked smile flickers across his face as a shaky breath escapes my throat.

His eyes don’t leave mine as his tongue replaces his finger, licking away every trace of me from his lip. Drinking me in as if I’m his favorite flavor.

Heat hot enough to solder metal is the only thing that exists in the space between us.

“Don’t look away again.” A tugging sensation sweeps through my core as our eyes dance between each other’s, so much unspoken there. His hand returns to work as his lips find mine. His kiss is bruising. He kisses me like he’s been trapped in a desert, and I’m the first water he’s seen in weeks. Like he wants every last ounce of me for himself. He kisses me like I might save him.

Angrily, his fingers work faster, curling inside me as I fall apart. I’m close, but I’m afraid if I tell him that, he’ll stop. I fight to keep my eyes open, eyes on him.

Molten lava spreads through me, making my body heavy as I feel my muscles tensing. I’m right there.

I—

“Garrett—”

I cry out as he drops to his knees, pulls my panties to the side, and brings me over the edge with his mouth working me in a raw act of possession. My body is fire and ice and warm honey and a million glowing stars. There are no thoughts or feelings or anything other than…

YES.

Our surroundings disappear, going fuzzy at the edges, and pure euphoria claims me as its own.

As the world begins to take shape again, and I realize where we are and who we are and how royally bad of an idea this was, I adjust my dress and underwear, staring at him as he stands up. I want to ask what this was supposed to be, why he would do this, but I’m afraid of the answer.

The longer I let what happened sink in, the more I worry it was a goodbye.

He’s leaving, and I’m staying, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

He swipes his mouth with his thumb, his eyes burning holes in me. Maybe he’s had enough to drink that he’ll regret this when he sobers up. Does he already regret us? I think that would be enough to destroy me.

“You deserve more than fine, Tessa. You deserve everything. Do not settle for someone who isn’t enough just to piss me off.”

“I wasn’t?—”

“You were.” His jaw twitches in the moonlight, his face cast in shadows. “You forget how well I know you. Which is very well. I’m not worth you making a mistake you can’t take back.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “So sleeping with someone who isn’t you would be a mistake?”

“Sleeping with someone you don’t care about because of me would be a mistake,” he says plainly. “I’m not worth that.”

“How can you say that?” Now, I can’t fight the tears. “How can you kiss me? How can you do what you just did with me and not care?”

“I never said I don’t care. Of course I care. Jesus, I care more than I could ever—” He cuts himself off, looking away, then finally finishes with, “More than you know.”

“You left, remember? Not me. Don’t judge me for the way I heal my heart. I need to move on. You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. You promised you were mine. And then you just ghosted me.” I’m sobbing without realizing it as he pulls me into his chest, holding my head against him.

“I am yours,” he promises, his voice cracking as he touches my hand to his chest, right above his heart. “Of course I’m yours. Can’t you see how badly I hate watching you with anyone else? Can’t you see I’m miserable?”

I pull back, taking his face in my hands. “Then what is the problem? We will figure it out. As long as we’re together, we can figure anything out.”

He takes my hands from his face, kissing the knuckles, then my palm. “It’s not that simple. I’m sorry. I wish that it was.” Another kiss to my palm. “You have no idea how much I wish it was.”

“It can be.”

“No.” His voice is firm then, and he steps back, dropping my hands. “No. I will always be yours. But right now, you just can’t be mine.”

He steps back again. Then, with a final look my way, he disappears inside.