Chapter Thirty-Seven

Tessa

Ben looks so handsome today. He’s wearing jeans and a white-and-blue striped button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up.

I ended up going to Mass this morning with Mommy, Eva, and Aunt Lily. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to disappoint my mother. Not after everything else. When we got back, I packed up my stuff, and I was ready when Ben’s driver picked me up for lunch.

“So you’re sure you’re ready to go back to your place?” Ben asks.

I nod. “I have to. I didn’t go running home to Mom’s after Garrett.”

Though my mother did stay with me for a week. I don’t need to tell Ben that. He probably knows anyway because Skye knows, which means Braden knows.

“All right. I’ll take you back there, we can dump your stuff, and then what would you like to do for the rest of the day?”

“You don’t have to take care of me for the rest of the day,” I say.

“Who says I’m taking care of you? Maybe I’d like to spend the day with you. We could take a walk. Go to the zoo.”

I smile when he says that. “I love the zoo. I love all animals. Da used to—” I sniffle a bit. “He and I both loved the zoo.”

“You sure you’re up for it?”

I don’t even think before I nod. “I am. It may just be the perfect place to finalize my goodbye to him.”

“Perfect.” He smiles. “It’s a date, then. I happen to love the zoo too.”

I take another bite of my egg casserole. It’s not as good as my mom’s, of course. She spices hers up with chile pequin.

My dad always used to joke that he never ate good food until he met my mom. His mother didn’t like to cook. My mom’s Mexican food is just delicious.

Before we went to Jamaica, I decided I wanted to learn to make all of my mother’s delicious recipes, even though I’ve never been much of a cook, except for guacamole.

Her recipes are my comfort food. I’d like to be able to make them for myself when I need them.

And I also want to cook them for Ben.

Ben, who is now more than just a friend.

More than just a date.

The thought doesn’t frighten me.

Mere days ago, it would’ve had me running, but now?

Now I want it.

I want another kiss.

And I want more before this day is over.

I smile, thinking about how I’m ready, when Ben’s phone buzzes. He glances at it next to his plate, and his lips twist into…not a scowl, exactly, but not anything good.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, rising. “I have to take this.”

“It’s okay.” I attempt a smile.

Once he’s gone, I start to shiver. Tremble. Am I going too fast?

Because I’ve gone too fast before, and I ended up paying for it.

…

Several Months Earlier…

I knock on Garrett’s door to surprise him with margaritas and homemade guacamole.

When the door opens, my smile drops from my face. Before me stands a blond woman…wrapped in a towel.

The pitcher of margaritas drops from my hands, and the glass breaks on the concrete stoop. The guacamole follows, making a big green mess.

“Who the hell are you?” I demand.

She smiles. “Not sure that’s any of your business.”

I brush past her. “Garrett! Where are you?”

Garrett scrambles out of the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say.

Garrett freezes. “Tessa, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Really?” I let out a humorless laugh. “So you weren’t just fucking that woman?”

“Well, yeah, but… It was nothing. Just a hookup from an app. Lolita—”

I drop my jaw. “Lolita? You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s her name.”

“Unbelievable.”

Anger courses through me, hitting me right at the back of my neck. But heartbreak will follow. I really liked this guy. We had a lot in common—or so I thought.

I raise my eyebrows but then lower them. I don’t need him thinking he just broke my heart. I thought we had something going. I told him no when he asked for anal, but I let him do everything else he wanted.

“It’s just a hookup. I didn’t think you and I had anything serious. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

I sigh. “I guess I just thought—”

“Try not to think too hard.” He comes in for a kiss.

I keep my lips sewn shut.

He pulls away and frowns. “So that’s it? You’re going to punish me for being honest with you?”

“Punish you?” I shake my head. “It’s her or me, Garrett. You have to choose.”

“But we’re supposed to meet for a late dinner, remember?”

Yeah. The late dinner. I was going to surprise him with homemade guac for an appetizer before we went. The homemade guac that’s now all over his stoop.

I cross my arms. “Fine. Choose. Or I’m out of here.”

He narrows his gaze. “I don’t like ultimatums, Tessa.”

“I don’t like giving them, but you need to make your choice, Garrett. Lolita or me.”

“But I just met her. It’s nothing—”

“Are you not hearing me? I said choose.”

He glares at me. “Fine. I choose the one who isn’t making me choose. I choose her.”

I turn and walk out of his house. His concrete stoop is full of broken glass and ruined guacamole. It’s my favorite pitcher, but I’ll live. I leave the mess, choking back sobs.

When I get home, Rita clamors for attention at my feet. I grab her and hold her to my heart. “You love me, don’t you, Rita?”

She scrambles out of my arms. I grab my phone and call Betsy.

“Bets?” I say, when she answers. “Get dressed. We’re going clubbing.”

…

I need to work on Betsy’s wardrobe. She’s a pretty girl, but she insists on wearing baggy dresses when she’s got a killer body. Still, she looks great tonight with her hair pulled away from her face in a headband and a flowing burgundy mini dress. For once she’s wearing clunky sandals instead of military boots.

Once we’re at the club, we head to the bar and squeeze into a standing space. I order two margaritas and down mine before Betsy takes her first sip.

“Ease up, Tessa,” Betsy says to me.

“I’m good.” I nod to the bartender.

He’s new here, and he’s a treat for the eyes—blond hair, green eyes, and muscles that go on for days. Plus a huge tattoo all over his forearm. It’s a bird of some sort.

He waves at me. “Be with you in a sec.”

I simply hold up my margarita glass. Universal language for give me another, and quick.

A moment later, he’s got my margarita, and he slides it to me with a smile. “You want to try something stronger?” he asks.

“Stronger than tequila? You mean a shot, right?”

He gestures to the end of the bar. “Meet me over there.”

Betsy’s still nursing her drink and watching the dance floor, so I wander to the end of the bar. The bartender grabs my hand and takes me behind the bar to a small room where boxes of liquor are stored.

He holds out his hand. In it is a small light-blue pill.

“If you’re having a bad night,” he says, “this will get you out of your funk.”

I pick up the small tablet and examine it. The word SKY is etched on it.

Sky. Give it an E and you’ve got my bestie. My bestie who’s put me on the back burner for her billionaire boyfriend.

“What is this?” I ask.

“It’s the answer to your shitty night,” he says. “It’s ecstasy.”

I place the pill back in his hand. “I’m not interested in drugs. I’m sure I can’t afford it, anyway.”

“This one’s on the house, gorgeous. If you want more after that, you come to me. My name’s Nick.”

“No thanks, Nick.”

“You sure about that?” He drops the pill back into my hand.

Sky.

The word on the pill seems to be a message to me.

Take the damned pill and get over yourself. Get over Garrett. Get over Skye.

Get over your pathetic life. Swallow it all down.

“All right, Nick.” I pop the pill into my mouth and swallow it. “Thanks.”

“If you want more, you know where I am.” Then he stares into my eyes. “But keep it between us, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Since it’s illegal and all.”

“My employer looks the other way,” Nick says, “but the cops won’t.”

“Got it.” I turn.

He tugs on my arm.

I look over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Whoever made you feel shitty isn’t worth it, you hear me? If I didn’t have to work tonight, I’d be all over you.”

I give him a weak smile. A bartender who takes his job seriously but who also deals drugs. Interesting.

“Thanks,” is all I say. Then I turn to find Betsy.

I spy her on the dance floor with a tall guy wearing glasses.

Just as well. I watch the dance floor and check my phone intermittently. I’m not sure how much time has passed when a guy approaches me.

“You want to dance?” he asks.

He’s dark-haired and handsome. “Sure.” I follow him to the dance floor, waving when I catch Betsy’s eye. We dance through two songs, and then I excuse myself to get some water.

But first, I need to pee. I head to the bathroom, take care of business, and then check myself in the mirror—

A piercing shriek echoes through the restroom.

It’s coming from me.

My reflection in the mirror…

It was me. But I had two red horns coming out of my head.

I grab hold of the counter and look again.

Back to normal, thank God, but my head is swimming. I don’t feel like me at all.

Until I do.

In fact, I feel more like me than I have in a long time, maybe ever. I’m damned giddy, and I can’t wait to get back on the dance floor. I wash my hands quickly and don’t bother checking my makeup because I don’t care. I just want to dance.

I leave the bathroom and force myself through the crowd and back on the dance floor, grabbing the hand of the first man I see.

“Excuse me!” A woman grabs the man’s hand back. “He’s with me.”

I should apologize, but I don’t. The guy I was dancing with previously—I never got his name—grabs me and twirls me into an intricate salsa dance step that I easily follow.

And I dance.

Soon it’s just me on the floor, surrounded by bright moving lights. Some of the lights have eyes and some have noses. Some actually try to talk to me, but I ignore them.

And I dance.

I dance and dance and dance and dance.

One of the lights is talking to me. It’s a red light, but I don’t understand the words. They’re just flashes as I dance.

I dance and dance and dance and dance.

Fewer lights, then.

Fewer still.

The red light is next to me. We’re moving. But I’m not dancing.

I’m in a bed.

But not my bed.

…

“Tessa, thank God!”

My head hurts, like someone’s driving a knife into my brain. Where the hell am I?

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes, for the love of God. Stop shouting, Betsy.”

A sigh whooshes from Betsy.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in my bedroom.”

I look around. The sun is streaming through the window and forces my eyes shut. Yeah, this is Betsy’s place. But why am I here? And how did I get here?

“You were really fucked up last night, Tessa.” Her voice wavers.

Last night. Garrett. Betsy. The club. The margaritas. The bartender.

And the ecstasy.

The little pill that said Sky.

“Oh, shit,” I say. “I took ecstasy last night.”

Betsy’s eyes go wide. “You did what?”

“I was feeling… Garrett dumped me, and Skye and I…” I bury my face in my hands. “Our friendship is a mess. God, what was I thinking?”

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“Thanks for having my back, Bets.” I rub the throbbing in my temples. “God, I feel like shit.”

“I’ve got some tea. I’ll get you a cup.”

“God, no. Just some water.”

She nods, walking toward the door.

“Betsy?”

She turns. “Yeah?”

“Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? Especially not Skye or Garrett.”