Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(20)

She was lost in thought, otherwise she would’ve seen me, too.

I pressed my hands above my head to both sides of the doorframe. It was my way of trying to look casual, like I didn’t care. But honestly, I just needed the support to keep my legs from caving beneath me.

My heart thundered through my chest, and I wished like hell that I could pause this moment, just look at her until the Earth fell apart.

Her hair was lighter, and her skin was darker, probably from being in the sun this summer, and her body had gotten more toned. More grown up. The shape to the back of her thighs had my mouth going dry. Her nose was still little, her skin still flawless, and her full lips all made her look like the perfect doll. And I never played with dolls, but I damn sure wanted to play with this one.

Right at that moment, I wanted everything from Tate. Everything. Her anger and passion, her hate and lust, her body and soul.

I wanted control of all of it.

I’m the one that haunts you. Not the other way around. My father invaded my head again. He and Tate were always in there.

Neither of them wanted me, and both of them owned me.

But one of them I could control.

“What is she doing here?” I snapped, staring at Madoc but completely aware of Tate snapping her attention my way.

Madoc kept silent, but I could see the corners of his mouth trying to suppress a smile.

“‘She’ wanted a word with you.” Tate’s voice was calm but there was a hint of snippiness to it. I smiled to myself, feeling the long-lost adrenaline warming my dry veins.

“Make it quick. I have guests.” Dropping my hands, I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to appear bored.

Sam and Madoc veered off into the kitchen, and Tate stood tall with her chin up. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes could light a fire.

I wasn’t sure what had happened with Madoc to make her so angry, or maybe she was just mad at me, but I finally felt in my element after a year of walking around dead.

“I. Have. Guests,” I repeated, when she didn’t speak right away.

“Yes, I can tell.” She looked behind me, and I knew Piper was still here. “You can get back to servicing them in just a minute.”

I narrowed my gaze, locking her in.

Well, well, well…Tate had a low opinion of me. Go figure.

Piper walked over and kissed me on the cheek. Saying goodbye? Reminding me she was here? I have no clue, but she always did little things like that at unexpected times, and it made me uncomfortable. Like she wanted more, and I was obligated to give it to her.

I stood there, willing her to stop waiting for something and just go home. Tate’s presence was doing me more good than hers, anyway.

After Piper took the hint and left, Tate spoke up. “I have to be up in about five hours for an appointment in Weston. I’m asking politely that you please turn down the music.”

Was she serious? “No.”

“Jared, I came here being neighborly. It’s after midnight. I’m asking nicely.” The begging was cute.

“It’s after midnight on a Friday night,” I explained, trying to sound as condescending as possible.

“You’re being unreasonable. If I wanted the music off, I could file a noise complaint or call your mom. I’m coming to you out of respect.” She looked around the room. “Where is your mother, by the way? I haven’t seen her since I’ve been back.”

Oh, Tate. Don’t go there. Don’t act like you know me or my family.

“She’s not around much anymore.” I kept my voice flat and unemotional. “And she won’t be dragging her ass down here in the middle of the night to break up my party.”

She sighed, looking annoyed. “I’m not saying to ‘break it up’. I’m asking that you turn the music down.”

“Go sleep over at K.C.’s on the weekends,” I suggested, circling the pool table in the family room.

“It’s after midnight!” she blurted out. “I’m not bothering her this late!”

“You’re bothering me this late.”

The control was back, and my jaw twitched with a smile.

I felt calm. And very sure about who I was. It was strength, confidence, and trust rushing over me again.

“You are such a dick,” she whispered.

I stopped and glared, pretending to be angry. “Careful, Tatum. You’ve been gone for a while, so I’ll cut you a break and remind you that my goodwill doesn’t go far with you.”

“Oh, please,” she sneered. “Don’t act like it’s such a burden to tolerate my presence. I’ve put up with more than a little from you over the years. What could you possibly do to me that you haven’t done already?”

And I was so elated with the challenge that I almost laughed.

“I like my parties, Tatum. I like to be entertained. If you take my party, then you’ll have to entertain me.” I surprised myself by how low and unmistakably wanting my voice got. The images of how she could entertain me rushed through my head.

But Tate would never. She was a good girl. Brushed and flossed. Ironed her clothes.

And she didn’t do bad things in beds with bad boys.

She tucked her long, wavy hair behind her ear and pinned me with disdain. “And what disgusting task, pray tell, would you like me to do?” She waved her hand in the air, dramatically, and my blood rushed with how different she seemed.