After We Collided Page 6

  “This is . . . wow,” I say.

  Mr. Vance laughs and pours himself a glass of what looks like water. “It’s okay.”

  “We ordered some room service so we can all eat a little something before we head downstairs. It should be here any minute,” Kimberly says, and I smile and thank her. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until she mentioned food. I haven’t eaten at all today.

  “You ready to be bored out of your mind?” Trevor asks as he appears from the sitting room.

  “It won’t be boring to me.” I smile and he laughs. “I may not want to leave this place,” I add.

  “Me either,” he admits.

  “Same,” Kim says.

  Mr. Vance shakes his head. “That could be arranged, love.” He puts his hand on her back and I look away from the intimate gesture.

  “We should just bring the main office here and all move!” Kimberly jokes. At least I think she’s joking.

  “Smith would love Seattle.” Mr. Vance says.

  “Smith?” I ask, then I remember his son from the wedding and blush. “Sorry, your son, of course.”

  “It’s okay—it’s an odd name, I know.” He laughs and leans into Kimberly. It must be so nice to be in a loving, trusting relationship. I envy Kimberly this, a shameful envy, but envy nonetheless. She has a man in her life who obviously cares for her and would do anything to make her happy. She’s so lucky.

  I smile. “It’s a lovely name.”

  After eating, we head downstairs, and I’m thrown into a large conference room full of people who love books. It’s heaven.

  “Network. Network. Network,” Mr. Vance says. “It’s all about networking.” And for the next three hours he introduces me to almost every single person in the room. The best part is that he doesn’t introduce me as his intern and he treats me like an adult. They all do.

  chapter twelve

  HARDIN

  Well well well, look who it is,” Molly says and rolls her eyes when Jace and I walk into Zed’s apartment.

  “Drunk and pregnant already?” I say to her.

  “So? It’s past five,” she says with an evil grin. I shake my head at her right as she says, “Have a shot with me, Hardin,” and grabs a bottle of brown liquor and two shot glasses off the counter.

  “Fine. One,” I say, and she smiles before filling up the small glasses.

  Ten minutes later, I find myself looking through the photo gallery on my phone. I wish I’d have let Tessa take more pictures of us together so I would have more to look at now. God, I do have it bad, like Jace said. I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind, and the most fucked up part is, I don’t care how crazy I’m being as long as it helps me get closer to her again.

  I will be happy, she said. I know I didn’t make her happy, but I could. At the same time, it isn’t fair for me to keep bothering her. I got her car fixed because I didn’t want her to have to worry about doing it herself. I’m glad that I did, because I wouldn’t have known she was going to Seattle if I hadn’t called Vance to make sure she’d have a ride to work.

  Why wouldn’t she tell me? That prick Trevor is with her right now when I should be. I know he likes her, and I could see her falling for him. He’s exactly what she needs, and they’re a lot alike. Unlike her and I. He could make her happy. The thought pisses me off and makes me want to slam his head through a window . . .

  But maybe I need to give her space and give her a chance to be happy. She made it clear yesterday that she can’t forgive me.

  “Molly!” I call from the couch.

  “What?”

  “Bring me another shot.” And even without looking at her, I can feel her victorious smile fill the room.

  chapter thirteen

  TESSA

  That was so amazing! Thank you so much for bringing me along.” I’m practically gushing at Mr. Vance as we all step into the elevator.

  “It was my pleasure really, you’re one of my best employees. Intern or not, you’re very bright. And please, for the love of God, call me Christian, like I told you already,” he says with a fake gruffness.

  “Yes, okay. This was beyond incredible, Mister . . . Christian. It was great hearing everybody talk about their thoughts on digital publishing, especially since it will only continue to grow and is so convenient and easy for readers. This is huge, and the market just keeps expanding . . .” I ramble.

  “True, true. And tonight we helped Vance Publishing grow a little more—imagine how many new customers we’ll get when we’ve fully optimized our operations,” he agrees.

  “Okay, are you two done?” Kimberly teases and wraps her arm through Christian’s. “Let’s get changed and hit the town! This is the first weekend in months that we’ve had a sitter.” She pouts playfully.

  He smiles down at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I’m glad that after his wife passed away Mr. Vance—I mean Christian—got a second chance at happiness. I look over at Trevor and he gives me a small smile.

  “I need a drink,” Kimberly says.

  “Me, too,” Christian says. “Okay, so everyone meet in the lobby in thirty minutes, and the driver will pick us up out front. Dinner’s on me!”

  When I get back to my room, I plug in my curling iron so I can touch up my hair. I brush dark powder over my eyelids and look in the mirror. The powder looks heavy for me, but not too heavy. I line my eyes with black liner and add some blush to my cheeks before fixing my hair. The navy dress I wore this morning looks even better now, with my darker makeup and fuller hair. I wish Hardin . . .

  No, I don’t. I don’t, I repeat to myself and slip on my black heels. I grab my cell phone and purse before leaving the room to meet my friends . . . are they my friends?

  I don’t know, but I feel like Kimberly is, and Trevor is very kind. Christian’s my boss, so that’s a little different.

  In the elevator, I text Landon to tell him that I’m having a great time in Seattle. I miss him, and I hope we can still remain close even if Hardin and I aren’t together anymore.

  When I step out of the elevator, I spot Trevor’s black hair near the entrance. In his black dress pants and cream sweater, he reminds me of Noah a bit. I take a second to admire how handsome he looks before I make my presence known. When his eyes find me, they go wide, and he makes a noise between a cough and a squeak. I can’t help but laugh a little as his cheeks flush.

  “You look . . . you look beautiful,” he says.

  I smile and say, “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  His cheeks redden. “Thanks,” he murmurs. It’s an odd thing to see him off balance like this. He’s usually so calm and collected.

  “There they are!” I hear Kimberly call.

  “Wow, Kim!” I say and wave my hand over my face, like I’m dispelling some illusion. She looks stunning in a red halter dress that only reaches halfway down her thighs. Her short blond hair is pin straight, making her look sexy, yet classy at the same time.

  “I have a feeling we’ll be fighting men off all night,” Christian says to Trevor, and they both laugh as they escort us out to the sidewalk.

  At Christian’s instruction, the car takes us to a really nice seafood restaurant, where I have the most delicious salmon and crab cakes, and where Christian tells us all sorts of hilarious stories about his days in publishing in New York. We all have a great time, and Trevor and Kimberly tease him a little, since he has a good sense of humor about everything.

  After dinner, the car takes us a short distance to an all-glass three-story building. Through its windows I watch hundreds of flashing lights illuminate swaying bodies, creating a fascinating mix of lights and darks across limbs and bodies. It’s not far off from what I envisioned a club would be like, though much larger and with a lot more people.

  As we get out, Kimberly grabs my arm. “We’ll go to a more laid-back place tomorrow—some of the guys from the conference wanted to come here, so here we are!” She laughs.

  The very large man guarding
the door holds a clipboard in his hands and is clearly controlling access to the inside. A line of expectant partygoers fills the entire sidewalk and reaches around the corner of the street.

  “Will we have to wait long?” I ask Trevor.

  “Oh no.” He chuckles. “Mr. Vance doesn’t wait.”

  I soon see what he means when Christian whispers something to the bouncer and the big man moves the rope to let us through immediately. I’m a little dazed when I walk in, with music pounding and lights dancing across the massive smoke-filled space.

  I’m pretty sure I’ll never understand why people like to pay to get a headache and inhale synthetic smoke while grinding on strangers.

  A woman in a short dress leads us up some stairs to a small room with thin curtains for walls. Within are two couches and a table.

  “This is a VIP section, Tessa,” Kimberly tells me as I look around with curious eyes.

  “Oh,” I answer simply and follow their lead by taking a seat on one of the couches.

  “What do you usually drink?” Trevor asks me.

  “Oh, I don’t usually,” I answer.

  “Me either. Well, I like wine, but I’m not much of a drinker.”

  “Oh no, you are drinking tonight, Tessa. You need it!” Kimberly says loudly.

  “I—” I start to say.

  “She’ll have a Sex on the Beach, and so will I,” she tells the woman.

  The hostess nods, and Christian orders a drink that I’ve never heard of and Trevor orders a glass of red wine. No one has yet questioned whether I’m of legal age or not. Maybe I look older than I am, or maybe Christian is known well enough here that people don’t want to upset his company by asking.

  I have no idea what a Sex on the Beach is, but I prefer not to showcase my ignorance. When the woman returns, she hands me a tall glass with a piece of pineapple and a small pink umbrella sticking out of the top. I thank her and quickly take a sip through the straw. It ‘s really very good, sweet but with a little kick of bitterness as I swallow.

  “Good?” Kim asks, and I nod, taking another long drink.

  chapter fourteen

  HARDIN

  Aw, come on, Hardin. One more,” Molly says in my ear.

  I haven’t decided yet if I want to get drunk. I’ve already had three shots, and I know if I take another, I will be drunk. On the one hand, getting as plastered as I can and forgetting about everything that’s going on sounds nice. But on the other hand, I need to be able to think clearly.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” Molly says, slurring her words.

  Molly smells like pot and whiskey. Part of me wants to take her into the bathroom and fuck her, just because I can. Just because Tessa is in Seattle with fucking Trevor and I am three hours away sitting on a couch half fucking drunk.

  “Come on, Hardin, you know I can make you forget all about her,” she says and scoots onto my lap.

  “What?” I ask her as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  “Tessa. Let me make you forget her. You can fuck me until you can’t even remember her name.” Her hot breath touches my neck, and I pull away from her.

  “Get off me,” I say.

  “What the fuck, Hardin?” she snaps, her ego obviously wounded.

  “I don’t want you,” I say harshly.

  “Since when? You didn’t have a problem fucking me all those other times.”

  “Not since . . .” I start to say.

  “Not since what?” She jumps up off the couch, swinging her arms around wildly. “Since you met that stuck-up bitch?”

  I have to remind myself that Molly is a female—and not the actual demon she acts like—before I do something stupid. “Don’t talk about her like that.” I stand up.

  “It’s true, and now look at you. You’re like a fucking lost puppy over some Virgin Mary–turned–skank who obviously doesn’t even want you!” she yells, laughing or crying. Those things tend to look almost the same on Molly.

  I clench my fists as Jace and Zed appear next to her. Molly puts a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Tell him, guys. Tell him that he’s a fucking snore ever since we outed him to her.”

  “Not we. You,” Zed corrects her.

  She glares at him. “Same thing,” she says, and he rolls his eyes.

  “What’s the problem?” Jace asks.

  “Nothing,” I answer for her. “She’s just upset because I won’t fuck her needy ass.”

  “No—I’m pissed because you’re an asshole. No one wants you around anyway. That’s why Jace told me to tell her in the first place.”

  All I see is red. “He what?” I say through my teeth. I knew Jace was a dick, but I thought for sure it was Molly’s jealousy that drove her to reveal everything to Tessa the way she did.

  “Yeah, he told me to tell her. He had it all planned: I was going to tell her right in front of you after she had a couple drinks, then he was going to chase after her and comfort her while you were crying like a fucking baby.” She laughs. “What was it that you said, Jace? You were going to ‘fuck her brains out’?” Molly says, using her claws to make air quotes.

  I take a step toward Jace.

  “Hey, it was just a joke, man—” he starts to say.

  If I’m not mistaken, a smirk plays on Zed’s lips as my fist connects with Jace’s jaw.

  I feel nothing on my knuckles from the repeated blows to Jace’s face; my anger overpowers everything as I climb on top of him to continue my assault. Images of him touching Tessa, kissing her, undressing her flash through my mind, making me hit him harder. The blood on his face only pushes me on, making me want to hurt him as much as I possibly can.

  Jace’s black-framed glasses lie broken and shattered next to his bloody face as strong hands pull me off him.

  “Come on, man! You’re going to kill him if you don’t stop!” Logan yells in my face, snapping me back to reality somewhat.

  “If any of you have anything to fucking say to me, say it now!” I yell to the group I had once considered friends, or the closest things I had to such.

  Everyone stays silent, even Molly.

  “I mean it! If anyone says another fucking word about her, I won’t hesitate to take each and every one of you motherfuckers down!” I take one last look at Jace, who is struggling to get up off the floor, and walk out of Zed’s apartment into the cold night.

  chapter fifteen

  TESSA

  These taste so good!” I practically yell at Kimberly as I suck down the remainder of my fruity drink. I greedily shift the straw around the ice to try to get as much as I can out of the glass.

  She beams. “Want another?” Her eyes are a little red, but she’s still composed, whereas I feel funny and light.

  Drunk. That’s the word I’m looking for.

  I nod eagerly and find myself tapping my fingertips on my knees to the beat of the music.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Trevor laughs when he notices.

  “Yeah, I feel really good actually!” I yell over the music.

  “We should dance!” Kimberly says.

  “I don’t dance! Well, by don’t I mean can’t, not to this type of music anyway!” I’ve never danced the way the people inside the club are dancing, and usually I would be terrified of joining them. But then the alcohol buzzing in my veins gives me courage like never before. “Fudge it—let’s dance!” I exclaim.

  Kimberly smiles, then turns and gives Christian a kiss on the lips, lingering longer than normal. Then in a flash she stands up and hauls me off of the couch, pulling me out toward the crowded dance floor. As we pass a railing, I look down and see the two stories below us filled with people dancing. Everyone looks so lost in their own world it’s intimidating and intriguing at the same time.

  Of course, Kimberly moves expertly, so I close my eyes and just try to let the music take control of my body. I feel awkward, but I just want to fit in with her; I have nothing else.

  After I’ve danced through an unknown number of songs and two mor
e drinks, the room begins to spin. I excuse myself to head for the bathroom, grabbing my purse on the way and pushing through endless sweaty bodies. I feel my phone start vibrating in my bag, so I dig it out. It’s my mother; no way I’m answering that—I’m way too drunk to talk to her right now. When I hit the bathroom line, something makes me scroll through my inbox, and I immediately frown at the realization that Hardin hasn’t texted me.

  Maybe I should see what he’s up to?

  No. I can’t do that. That would be irresponsible and I would regret it tomorrow.

  The flashing lights bouncing off the walls are starting to get to me as I wait in line. I try to concentrate on my phone screen, hoping the feeling goes away. When the door to one of the stalls finally opens, I bolt in and lean over the toilet, waiting for my body to decide whether to get sick. I hate this feeling. If he were here, Hardin would bring me water, he would offer to hold my hair back.

  No. No, he wouldn’t.

  I should call him.

  Realizing I won’t be sick, I exit the little room and go to the sink area. Hitting a couple of buttons on my phone, I place it between my shoulder and cheek and tear a paper towel from the dispenser. I place it under a faucet to wet it, but the water doesn’t come until I wiggle the towel around the sensor; I hate these automatic sinks. My eyeliner has run a little, and I look like a different person. My hair is wild and my eyes are bloodshot. After the third ring, I hang up and set my phone on the edge of the sink.

  Why the hell isn’t he answering? I ask myself, and right then my phone starts to vibrate, almost falling into the water, which makes me laugh. I have no idea why, but I find it amusing.

  Hardin’s name appears on the screen, and I swipe my wet finger across the screen. “Harold?” I say into the phone.

  Harold? Oh Lord, I drank way too much.

  Hardin’s voice sounds funny and breathless when it comes through. “Tessa? Is everything okay? Did you call me?”

  God, his voice is heavenly.