More memories from last night surface. I can’t get the sad, hurt look on his face out of my head. It echoed the look he wore when I propositioned him.
Flip is just my friend and he’s showing up for me more than my dad ever did for our family. It pisses me off and makes me so, so sad.
I’m already embarrassed, so I might as well deal with all my stupidity at once and address the elephant in the back seat.
He pulls up in front of my building.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat.
“I’ve already?—”
I hold up my hand. “I’m not talking about last night.” I swallow my nerves. “What I asked of you, the way I asked it…was wrong. I know what it’s like to always have people want something of you, from you.” I’m the Terror coach’s virgin daughter, and he’s the Terror’s notorious fuckboy. We’re quite the pair. “I should have thought about what I was asking for and how I was asking for it.”
He looks decidedly uncomfortable. “Tally, you don’t have to?—”
“Please let me finish. It was thoughtless of me, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.” I shore up my courage to get out the rest. “I want my first time to be something I remember and feel good about. I don’t want to end up with some guy who just wants the notoriety of fucking the coach’s daughter any more than you want someone to ask you for something because you’re good at it.”
I want to throw up all over again, just remembering the nonsense that spilled out of my mouth. And then for other reasons as I finally admit the truth. “But you should know that I asked because I like you, Flip. Not Flip Madden the hockey player. You. The guy who slept on a yoga mat to make sure I was safe. The guy who attended my dance showcase and brought me my favorite flowers even after I hurt you.”
I’m afraid and anxious but I turn to face him anyway, because Flip is important to me, and I want to mend our friendship, if I can. “You’re an amazing brother to Rix and an excellent best friend to Dred. The way you show up for the people you love is one of my favorite things about you. I know you’ve made some decisions in the past that you can’t escape, and I would never want you to make a choice that you would regret, the same way you don’t want me to. I asked what I asked not for the reasons I stated, but for the reasons I didn’t. You’re a good person, and I care about you, and I’m sorry it came out the way it did.” I unfasten my seat belt and open the door.
“Talls—” The ache in his voice scares me.
I cut him off again before he can say anything else. “Thank you again for dealing with me last night, and driving me home, and I’m sorry about your face and your dick and bye.” I pull my hood up and scramble out of the car, slamming the door behind me.
I rush as much as I can in my stupid heels. Those I couldn’t get out of wearing home. This is the worst walk of shame ever. I’m so grateful when the elevator doors open immediately and it’s blissfully empty. I throw myself inside and hit the button for my floor.
I’m barely inside my apartment before I burst into tears.
My adorable, fluffy Maine Coon, Parsnip, trots down the hall, meowing up a storm as he senses my distress. I pick him up, shoving my face into his fur as I carry him down the hall. He headbutts me and licks my cheek. He’d been at the shelter for over year when I decided he needed to be mine. He’s a problem and I love him.
He still has dry food, but I plate a small helping of wet food and leave him to scarf it down while I shower away last night’s bad choices. Dred was right. Shots are never a good idea. I change into my comfiest clothes, drink two bottles of Vitamin Water, eat a banana while thinking about how Flip’s dick wasagainst my cheek this morning, and finally flop down on the couch to check my phone. Parsnip joins me and settles in my lap.
I have several messages from my brother.
Ties
Can you message when you’re home, just so we all know you’re safe?
Mom has tried to call you six times. I said you’re probably with your Tilton friends.
Mom called one of the Terror women called Hammer. Why is her name Hammer? Apparently you were with her so she knows you’re safe and so do I. But still message when you get this.
Tallulah, for fuck’s sake, just message.
The most recent one is less than half an hour old.
I call him.
“Tallulah?”
“Sorry I’m only getting back to you now. I didn’t mean to make you worry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Well, not really. But you’re okay? You’re safe?”
“Yeah. How are you? I’m sorry I bailed last night.” I feel guilty all over again for walking out.
“I would have done the same if I could. I did once we finally got Fenna out of the bathroom.” His voice sounds rough.
