“I’m an asshole, but I’m not a sociopath.”
“Exactly,” Tara said. A smirk formed on her face. “Actually, the more I think about it, the more you two are perfect for each other.”
“Oh, Christ, Tara—”
“No, hear me out, Steele. Her problem is she also wants everything perfect. She’s always been the grossest suck-up to our father. I joke sometimes that I was the best thing to ever happen to her career, because she never rebelled like I did. So even though she just did what Dad asked of us, she looked fantastic by comparison.”
I smirked. I could recall many a time when I was lying in bed with Tara, listening to her lie to her father about where she was, smirking and wishing that that asshole had known I had just been inside his daughter.
Now, thinking about those memories, I felt kind of…not bad. They were good memories. But I could recognize much more clearly now that, yes, Tara and I had dated for many of the wrong reasons, or at least handled it the wrong way.
And now, I was realizing, it wasn’t that women like Tara avoided love. I had just never let them give it because love was messy, confusing, and imperfect. Life was brutally imperfect, and I’d avoided anything that could remind me of that fact wherever I could—even if it meant distorting things like relationships.
“Anyway, since you both have that perfectionist streak to you, I think you’re ‘perfect’ for each other,” she said. “But just don’t get caught up with each other. Brock and I have our fights and our arguments. And we’re fine.”
But while this was all great and wonderful and profound, it didn’t address one logistical issue.
“Yeah, but let’s call what happened for what it was. You almost got raped because the Bandits put you and Brock together. You got lucky that Brock and some of us were there to help. We can say we’ll always be there for you, but—”
“You’re not omniscient, I get it,” she said. “But we’re still dating.”
Well, put that way from a couple that’s actually together….
“Are you going to tell me that that’s a block?” she said. “Or…”
“What?”
“Am I?”
“Are you a block?”
I thought about the hug. I thought about our relationship. I thought about being around Elizabeth and how it had felt when I had kissed her.
“No,” I said. “Because when I talked with Elizabeth, it felt much more intimate than we ever did.”
That cracked Tara up, who leaned back in the booth, clapped her hands, and kept doing so even as the waiter came by with our food.
“I’ve never felt so happy to look so bad in my life.”
Looking at her laugh, it was the picture of the girl that I had fallen in love with two-plus years ago. Beautiful, fiery, spunky, willing to say whatever came to mind, intelligent, everything.
And when I looked at her right now, I could recall all those feelings and all those memories. For as long as I was in the Rogers orbit, I’d always have those emotions at my fingertips.
But like archives in the back of the library, they weren’t at the forefront of my mind right now. I could truly look at her objectively. I could talk with her, banter, perhaps even flirt a smidge, and it didn’t affect me.
I could finally let go of the idealized future I’d carried with me for over two years. I’d “given it up” when her and Brock got together, sure, but it wasn’t something where I’d tested myself to see if I really had let it go. This was the first time that I’d been with Tara alone and could have had a chance to try for something if I wanted it.
And I didn’t.
Things didn’t have to be perfect with her.
She and I could just be friends, so long as I was willing to accept that. And it was easy enough to do so.
And as quickly as I let things go with Tara, things with Elizabeth came running back to the forefront. Maybe we’d try things and we’d still realize it wouldn’t work out. But it sure felt a lot better knowing we could take that gamble without me having to worry about the future with her sister.
We wound up splitting off into lesser topics of conversation, such as her new place and her job hunt. She warned she didn’t want to do a housewarming party with all the Black Reapers, but depending on how things went with Elizabeth and me, she could see Brock and I coming over. The fact that I didn’t feel awkward at such an idea said it all.
Finally, the check came, Tara and I split it, and we walked outside.
