“No. Don’t do that. Do not fucking feel sorry for me. I’m not a patient. I’m not—”
“Oh shush. I don’t feel sorry for you. I was apologizing for the question. So get off of your judgey horse and get back into the conversation because while all that sounds fucking terrible, I don’t see what it has to do with me.” I’m standing again, pushing my hands onto my hips and staring at him through narrowed eyes.
With a scoff, he shakes his head and sighs deeply, as though this whole situation is pissing him off as much as me.
“Are you seriously playing the innocent card right now? I’ve just given you the deepest, darkest parts of me and you’re pretending you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about? That’s rich.”
“Tanner…” I step into him, resting my palms against his chest, and he remains frozen in place, no reaction at all except to look down at me with his hands gripping the counter behind him. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. My parents told me that you were spending the summer with your uncle. I thought you deserved it, a nice summer away from the people who called themselves your parents, and that’s it. There’s nothing fucking else! Zip. Zilch. Nada. So please, enlighten me, because I clearly need it.” I can feel his heart beating faster than before beneath my palms, but he still doesn’t move. I’m staying where I am, though. All the shouting is getting us nowhere.
“It wasn’t a vacation, Berkleigh. It was the direct result of you telling your parents about the bruises and cuts. About the black eye. You set the ball in motion. You pinky promised not to say anything but clearly, you lied, because the next morning, CPS came for me and I lived two months of pure Hell. Afghanistan felt like a cakewalk compared to that summer.” His voice is monotone, like he’s stating facts rather than reliving a past he’d rather forget, and I get it. I really do, but…
Fuck.
Me.
I think carefully about what I want to say next because he’s being really vulnerable with me here and I don’t want to diminish that, but on the other hand…is he serious?
“Are you saying…” I pause, speaking slowly because I’m trying to not be mad about this. “That for all this time, you treated me like a second-class citizen…” I pause again because I’m speeding up and the anger is rising. Taking a deep breath, I continue. “Because you think I broke my pinky promise to you about your shitty parents?” He goes to speak, but I hold my finger up, stopping him with that and a glare. “That was rhetorical because that’s exactly what you said. I’m not the liar in this scenario. I kept that promise and didn’t say a fucking word to another soul. I didn’t even write it in my diary in case my parents read it. So what’s your excuse for blaming me now?”
He’s taken aback a little after my rant but I don’t back down. My spine is straight and my brows are raised in expectation.
“That doesn’t make any sense. I told you and the next thing I know I’m being carted off like a beat up dog. Are you saying that's a coincidence?” The sarcasm is strong in that last question.
“Tanner, you had dinner at my house almost every night. Do you think my parents are blind? Did you ever consider it was them, and not, in fact, your best friend breaking an unbreakablepinky promise? Did I really deserve everything you did to me after that? Because I’m gonna go ahead and say no. Our friendship clearly meant so little to you that you would turn on me the way you did, allowing Taylor Frey and her minions to torture me through high-school. I was lucky enough to have her follow me to college too, so yeah, thanks for all of that based on your little assumption. I lost my best friend the day you left, and that fucking broke me.” I grab my glass of wine from the table and finish it off, now extra pissed that the rest of the bottle is staining the white-tiled floor. Heading to the cabinet, I completely ignore him as I grab another bottle, slamming it on the counter to twist off the cap. I feel awful that he had to go through all of that, but that doesn’t excuse the asshole behavior.
He’s frowning and I can almost see the wheels turning in his murderous mind.That’s right, Tanner…add the shit up.
“It wasn’t you?”
I roll my eyes because who’s the dense one now? “Of course it fucking wasn’t! Who breaks a pinky promise to their best friend?”
For a second, he disarms me with his signature smirk. “You know that’s not a real thing, right? The pinky isn’t magical.”
“Don’t you dare make a pinky promise seem like shit. It’s the most sacred and unbreakable promise best friends can make and I made one with you. But you went and crapped all over it.” I drink back more of the freshly poured wine.
He reaches out, his hand cupping my jaw, his eyes softer, his jaw less tense. “I thought—” The phone on the counter lights up and whatever he was about to say dies on his lips as he crashes his mouth to mine. Our tongues speak for us, caressing and fighting all at the same time.
When he pulls back, the phone rings all over again but he ignores it, just like he did seconds ago. Forehead to forehead,nose to nose, there’s something comforting about tasting his breath on my lips.
“The bullying was all Taylor. I hated you too much to stop her. I may have jumped the gun a little.”
The wine has definitely gone to my head because I snort a laugh. “A little? Ya think?” I know this is all the apology I’ll get out of him because he isn’t wired that way, but I don’t care. It doesn’t solve world peace, but it’ll do. However, I’m going to torture the fuck out of him for it because he isn’t getting away with it that easily.
The ringing starts up again for a third time and that’s my cue to leave.
“Answer your phone because someone is trying real fucking hard to get a hold of you. I think we’re done here, don’t you?” I’m not waiting for a response as I grab my glass and the unbroken wine bottle. “Another rhetorical question, by the way. Just know that you’re the biggest walking, talking asshole that ever walked the Earth, waving around those red flags like it’s a sport, and I’m going to have a long bath.” I glare at him. “Alone.”
Before I whip my head around, I see him swipe the phone from the counter. “Yeah, but red’s your favorite color, Sweet Bee.”
Asshole.
“That may be so, but it doesn’t look good all over the kitchen floor. Have fun cleaning up your mess.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tanner
“I’ve got a name.”
