15. Calista

15

CALISTA

" C ome on," Vex says, tugging me up by my hand.

"What are we doing?" He leads me to his bedroom, a restful room in dark greens and light wood with a huge king-sized bed that is unmade. The white bedding sits in a rumpled mess that looks like only one side was slept in. "Vex…Ti…what…?"

"This way." He opens a door into a beautiful bathroom, grabs a fluffy dark green towel off the shelf, and hands it to me. "I've seen the state of your mom's bathroom. Shower here while I make some food."

I look around the bathroom with absolute envy. The gorgeous deep emerald tiles that remind me of a forest. The large overhead shower. And a long vanity with two sinks that is absolutely to die for. It's more welcoming and intimate than my master bath in California.

But no matter how beautiful it is, or how clean and pristine it is, or how much steaming hot water it can likely provide, I feel like the best course of action is to get home. "Ti, I feel like I should go."

He looks at me. "Things linked to the club are obviously still traumatic for you. I get that. Until we resolve that, I don't want the Outlaws to come between us. That happened once before. I don't want it to happen again. We need to finish working through this so both of us can find some peace to move forward."

He's harder to read than he used to be. Ti's face was always so expressive. Now it's hard to get a read on what he's thinking. "I don't know that there is an us in the present, though, or that it's appropriate to accept your help."

He raises an eyebrow. "Top knob turns to the right for the shower, to the left for the handheld. The lower knob turns anti-clockwise to get hotter. I know it was hard to be honest with me, and you did real good telling me all that."

A trickle of warmth runs through me at the praise. But it doesn't change things. "I can take care of myself at home."

"Cal." The way he says my name is one of exasperation. I've heard it a million times. When I wouldn't sit to do my homework. When he wanted to read, and I wanted him to go outside with me. "You're having a shower and eating some fucking food. You're burning a lot of emotional energy right now, and you'll take my help when I fucking offer it."

The door closes with something just shy of a slam.

The storming off is new.

For the first time in what feels like hours, I take a breath. I place the towel on the hook and sit down on the lid of the toilet. "What the hell, Calista?" I whisper as I rub my hands over my face.

Somehow my life turned into something bordering on a telenovela.

I built a stable and fun life in California. Sure, my friends are more like business associates, but I've built a business. Funded it all myself. I've dated but keep finding the same terrible men who feel a woman like me is too much. Too capable. Too powerful. Too wealthy. Too independent. Too opinionated.

And the sex was rarely anything to write home about.

And yet, here, in Ti's bathroom, I feel like a young girl again. I feel the whisper of teen love and angst rubbing up against the visceral slap of what happened that night. When Ti looks at me intensely, there's something more to it than there used to be before.

I left all this behind, like a skin I'd shed. But I realize I've been fooling myself with that narrative all along. I buried all of it deep inside me and have never spoken to anyone else about it properly. Not even my therapist. I haven't returned here since I ran. And my mom always refused to get on a plane to come see me. I don't have anything in my apartment from back then save one thing: a Christmas card Ti gave me when we were in fifth grade. I don't know why I keep that one and not others, but I eventually threw away every other last thing that reminded me of Asbury Park.

But being back here, with my mom, with Ti, is showing me that I never got over Mom kicking me out. That I never forgave Ti for doing what he did.

That I haven't forgiven myself for any of it.

And it's the truth—the only real forgiveness I feel I need to give myself is for being too foolish and too naive by trusting anyone else. If I hadn't told Ti what I was planning to do, I would have gotten away with it.

Just like I did when I fleeced the Yakuza over an eight-month period.

But none of it fills the hole in my chest that aches right now.

How can you have friends but still feel lonely?

How can you have more money than a person needs and still feel lacking?

How can you appear so successful to the rest of the world, and yet feel like a failure inside?

"Hey, Cal." There's a knock on the door, and then it opens slightly. Just his hand appears through the doorway with a pair of joggers and a T-shirt balanced on the palm. "Thought you might want something soft and warm for when you're done."

It's a simple kindness, and yet I feel a touch undeserving. And I must be nearing my period for me to feel so pathetically melancholy.

Where the hell is your backbone?

The door pushes open, and Vex…Ti appears around it. "You okay?"

I jump up and brush myself off figuratively. "No. Fine. Yes. It's all good."

He puts the clothes down on the vanity, then tugs me into his arms. I barely have time to process it before I'm wrapped up in him. My forehead barely reaches his pec, but he tucks my ear against his heart and holds me close.

He smells good, his body so firm and warm up against mine.

Something stings my cheek, and it takes a moment for me to realize I'm crying. I bite down on my lip, swallow hard, even blow out a breath.

"It's okay to cry, Calista. Tears don't make you any less strong."

Somehow his words turn on the internal tap to my tear ducts, because I begin to cry uncontrollably. Ugly, gulping sobs that embarrass me, but I can't seem to stop.

I cry for the stress I've been under at work. I cry out of fear for the stalker who is still lurking. I cry for my mom and what she's facing. I cry that I'll never get the relationship with her that I once prayed for. I cry for what happened to me and Ti then, and for the mess that we are now.

And all the while, Ti holds me, his large hands rubbing circles on my back as he whispers words of comfort. "Let it all out, sweetheart."

It's a completely foreign concept, to think that he wasn't responsible in the way I thought. But he's so intricately linked to those who hurt me that I don't know how to move past it.

Breathing becomes difficult. I suck in air.

And, oh my God, why am I being so pathetic, making this all about me? It's painfully self-indulgent, yet I can't stop.

Ti picks me up and sits me on the vanity before pulling me even closer. With him settled between my thighs, my body lights up in contrast to the hurt pouring out of me. I keep my head on his shoulder, and he kisses the top of my head gently as he soothes me.

God, there was a time when I would have done absolutely anything to be in this position with this man. To be securely wrapped up in his arms. To be the center of his universe. I think about the letter I wrote two days before it all went down, the one where I explained I'd fallen in love with my best friend.

A group of girls had been mean to me. Calling me a geek and making fun of the test I'd aced. Ti had stepped between us and told the girls I was going to be someone one day. The concept of one day had stuck with me. Ti and me. Living together. Building a life.

And when they'd gone, he'd hugged me and made sure I was okay.

He was the only person after my dad who made me feel safe.

And I realized I loved him in every way a young heart could.

I'd written the letter to ask him if he'd like to try being more. I wrote it rather than saying it because Ti took in information better when he read it, and I tended to ramble when I was nervous. The letter also explained that if he didn't, I'd settle for friendship because I didn't want to lose him in my life.

But I hadn't had the courage to give it to him.

Instead, I'd burned it somewhere en route from Jersey to California.

When the tears subside, Ti grabs a cloth from a stack of clean ones next to the sink and gently washes off my face.

I try to take it from him, but he simply bats my hand away.

Mascara has likely lined my face. I'm probably red and blotchy. "Always was an ugly crier," I say.

Ti holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Not ugly. Would be impossible with a face like that. You feel better?"

I process the question. My mind feels clearer, and my heart rate is slowing. "Surprisingly, I do."

"You've gone through some big emotions in the last twenty-four hours. Let's get you cleaned up and fed and rested so you can face it all again tomorrow."

I turn my head to glance over my shoulder to see our reflection in the mirror. Tiberius is so much taller than me. He's bulked out somewhere down the line, while I foolishly bought into the thin is the new black vibe. For years, I loathed myself. But Ti makes me feel small. We look so different. "I should go. Mom shouldn't be alone."

"Hey, look at me," Ti says.

I do as instructed.

"Your mom has been doing okay. Not great, obviously. But she's left the house occasionally, hasn't starved, and the house is now warmer and so much safer than it has been. And everything starts tomorrow. The cleaners are coming, the doctor is coming. If you're gonna look after her, you're going to need to let me take care of you."

The sincerity in his eyes is overwhelming. "I don't need you to take care of me. I've been fine on my own."

"There's a difference between being fine on your own and thriving because you allowed someone else to help."

"You don't owe me anything," I say. "I heard your apology. I accept it."

Ti huffs. "Babe, I know I don't owe you. And I'm not doing it because I'm sorry. I'm doing it because I want to help. Because you were such a huge part of my childhood, Calista. Because it's really good to see you. To have cleared the air. You're staying here tonight. I'd rather not have to tie you to the bed." Then, he chuckles. "Okay, maybe it would be kind of fun to tie you to the bed."

I slap his chest, but the only thing I do is hurt my knuckles. "Ouch. You asshole. And when did you get so…solid? Where's the scrawny teen?"

Ti flexes a bicep. "Never was scrawny, but I found the gym. Couple of my brothers are ex-military. Switch and I work out together."

I don't want to think about the men Ti associates with. Although, perhaps Switch wasn't so bad. I guess Ti feels me tense.

"Hey, stop that. You are safe. I won't let a single person from the club in here while you're here. Doubt any of the brothers even know the real details of what happened."

I relax a little at that. "Can I trust you to keep your word?"

Ti looks at me for a moment, like he doesn't even recognize me. "I'm as good as my word for anyone. Not just you."

I've hurt him, and I didn't even mean to. "I'm sorry. I'll shower and eat with you."

His eyes go wide.

"No!" I shout. "I mean, I'll shower while you cook dinner. And then, I'll eat with you."

He puts his mouth close to my ear. "I'd prefer to join you with the former, but I'll take the latter."

I turn to look at him, our lips so close that I can feel his breath on mine. Our eyes hold; neither of us moves an inch or says a word.

Everything sits on a precipice. But I know falling off it would hurt, whichever way I land.

"Ti." I'm uncertain with what else to say.

His hand cups my cheek, and I run my tongue over my lower lip.

See? Telenovela.

But all coherent thoughts disappear when his lips brush mine with the softest, gentlest kiss. Nothing is hurried or too intense.

And yet, every part of me responds to him.

There is more connection in this simple kiss with my former best friend than I've felt in a long time. So, I close my eyes and sink into him, turning off the voice that tells me this is an awful idea.