Page 22 of You for Her (The Edge of Retaliation 2)
“Not leavin’ until you open the door.”
Fuck.
I walk over, alcohol giving me far more courage than I actually have. Maybe Ethan told him I know. Maybe he’s here to confront me.
Bring it on, I say.
Bring it the fuck on.
I swing the front door open and am faced with a very rugged, very drunk, very gorgeous Tanner Yates.
He stares at me, his eyes glassy, his hand resting on the door to help support that big body.
Why is he here?
“What do you want, Tanner?”
My voice is snippy and short. Do I care? Absolutely not.
He tips his head to the side. “How can you be so beautiful?” he murmurs. “I hate that you are so fuckin’ beautiful.”
God.
Why does he have to go ahead and say things like that? Things that make my heart ache. Things that confuse me even more than I already am. Things that make me wish, for a single second, that things were different.
“You’re drunk.”
“Tipsy,” he corrects, with a wave of his finger.
I roll my eyes. “Drunk. Why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
A not so subtle snort leaves my lip. “I’m not entirely sure why.”
Considering you’re a sociopath currently trying to ruin my life.
“Me either,” he says, his voice low. “I shouldn’t be here, but there is something about you …”
“Go home, Tanner,” I say, my voice tired, my body sore, my heart broken. “Please.”
I go to close the door, but he stops it with his hand. “Tell me something about you, Callie. Tell me something nobody else knows.”
I lean in close, smelling the beer on his breath, loving the way it tickles my face. Then hating myself for loving it. A range of emotions in a matter of seconds. “I’m not a liar,” I whisper.
His eyes flash with a strange emotion, and then he says, “So you say. Tell me something else.”
“You are.”
I push the door, but he stops it again, narrowing his eyes. “What did you say?”
“Go home, Tanner.”
“I’m not goin’ home.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
I exhale and rub my hands over my face. “I have enough going on without you being here. Please, leave.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” he says, leaning his big body against the door. “So, tell me why the fuck I can’t stay away?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
He steps closer. I don’t move back, even though I know I should. I know I should move and shut the door and never look at Tanner Yates again unless I have to, and yet I can’t seem to get my legs to agree on that. I stand firmly in the spot I’m in.
“It’s complicated,” he tells me, his voice slightly slurred. “It’s so fuckin’ complicated. Wish I could make sense of the fuckin’ mess in my head.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tanner,” I say again. “You need to go.”
“What if I don’t want to go?” he asks, holding my eyes, making my tummy do a silly little flip flop. “What if I just want to stay here and forget everything else in the world? What if that’s all I fuckin’ want? What if you’re all I fuckin’ want?”
“You can’t have everything you want,” I whisper.
He steps closer, reaching up and curling his hand behind my neck. “You think I haven’t learned that by now, Callie? You think I don’t know that life is a big fuckin’ mess and never works out how you want it?”
“I don’t know what you’ve learned, I don’t know a single thing about you, Tanner. You’re a mystery. You’re a lie.”
He tips his head to the side. “Aren’t we all?”
“Please,” I beg, my voice shaky. “Please leave.”
“It’s so fuckin’ hard to stay away from you. I try, I fuckin’ try, but there is somethin’ about you …”
He’s killing me.
Because I’m so conflicted.
A huge part of me hates him and, yet, when he’s here, touching me, saying things like that, another part of me becomes confused and I don’t know how to react. I don’t know how to think or how to feel. I hate it. I hate that he somehow has this effect on me, when all I want is for him to just leave, to forget about me, to stop tormenting me with these little mind games.
“Don’t,” I plead when he leans in closer, his lips so close to mine I can feel his warm breath puffing against my face. “Don’t kiss me.”
“I shouldn’t,” he growls. “I shouldn’t for so many reasons …”
“Tanner …”
“Fuck, Callie …”
He kisses me.
Everything in my body jerks to life, and I melt against him, my lips part, and I let him in. For a small second, I forget everything else, and I let him kiss me. I let myself feel the way his hands tangle in my hair. I let myself love the way his mouth feels against mine. Then I’m reminded of who he is, and what he is, and how damned manipulative he has been. He’s here because he’s drunk, but he has made so many choices to hurt me.
