But then we hear it.
Footsteps.
He pulls back just enough that I can see the color drain from his face, and then he’s rolling off the side of the bed onto the floor. He hits with a grunt as I scramble to my feet in a near panic. I can taste my own heart; it’s all the way up in my throat, choking me.
Rather than try to get dressed, I act like I’m getting undressed. I tear the bralette over my head just seconds before Tess raps her knuckles on the door and then opens it because, you know, I don’t deserve any form of privacy.
“Mia—” she starts, but even though I hate the sound of my not-name, I’m too rattled and disoriented to care. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
Tess blanches and steps back, closing the door quickly.
There’s an awkward moment where I just stand there, panting and aching, my thighs clenched, body quivering. I was so close, so freaking close …
“Do you happen to know where Parrish is?” she asks, and it takes me three tries to answer.
“No idea. He mentioned the movie and then I think he went outside …” Is that a good lie? I hope it is. I really hope like hell it is. I notice Parrish’s hoodie on the floor and kick it under the bed before I snatch some clean clothes from my bag and yank them on.
There’s definitely evidence in here that we were doing, um, certain things. I’d rather Tess didn’t come back in. In an effort to prove that nothing’s wrong, I open the door wide and step out, scooting past her to head for the bathroom.
“Would you like to watch the movie with us?” Tess asks me softly, and I pause. I’m not looking at her, facing toward the back door that leads to a cement patio. The arcade machines are on my left, the bathroom door on my right.
I glance back with yet another forced smile. I’m getting good at those, aren’t I?
“Actually, I think I’m going to study a bit. Finals are coming up quick.”
“Okay …” Tess hazards, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair. I turn away, hoping I can make it to the bathroom before she tries to engage in anymore conversation. My mind could not be further away from here right now. Parrish. All I can think about right now is him. “Dakota, I’m sorry.”
That gives me pause.
First off, she used my actual name. Second, she’s apologizing?
I turn around, a spark of hope flaring in my chest.
“I’ve been giving you the cold shoulder, and that isn’t fair.” We stare at each other down the length of the hallway. I’m hyperaware that Parrish is listening in, but somehow that makes this easier, like I have an ally now or something. “You’re my daughter, and I want you to be a part of this family.”
My smile gets a little less forced feeling.
“I’m sorry I went behind your back, Tess. But I really do love the Banks; I miss them. I miss Maxine, and she’s so close—”
Uh-oh.
If I were a writer like Tess, I might say something like: The expression on her face was nothing short of a landslide. Where once stood a mighty forest, there was only mud. It was as if the whole world came tumbling down in an instant, toppling trees, smothering homes, bathing the world in quiet pain.
I’ve infuriated her. Again.
“Yes, well, I accept your apology.” Tess raises her chin and levels a look on me that could kill. “But I’m not budging on this. If I find out you’ve contacted them, or if you’ve seen that girl, I will ship you off to military school. Do you understand me?”
I just stare back at her, eyes wide, mouth gaping. All those happy, sparkly, bubbly feelings that Parrish churned up inside of me disappear, and I’m left free-floating in the middle of an emotional void.
“You’d … send me to military school for talking to my family?”
“This is your family,” Tess snaps back at me, and then she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she opens her eyes to look at me again, I have to take a step back. The force of her stare is like a blade to the heart. “When you turn eighteen, I can’t stop you from doing what you want. Until then, you are my daughter. My daughter. Not Saffron’s. Not Carmen’s. Mine. You, Parrish, Kimber, Ben, Amelia, Henry … you’re my entire life.”
“Possession isn’t love—” I start, but the way she’s looking at me tells me that I better stop now before it’s too late.
“Let’s let the subject lie, shall we?” she asks, and this time, it’s her that forces a smile. “I really am sorry about ignoring you all weekend. Maybe tomorrow you can ride with me in the front of the SUV and Paul can sit in the back?” She cocks a brow like this is supposed to be funny, and then turns on her heel to leave.
For several minutes, I just stand there and stare after her.
Eventually, Parrish comes to me. He’s fixed his pants and slipped his shirt back on (the hoodie is um, dirty), and he smells so good, feels so warm when he wraps me up in his arms and pulls me close. I can hear his heart thundering, digging my fingers into the fabric of his shirt and closing my eyes. I won’t cry today. I won’t.
This time, when I pull back, it isn’t me who has tears.
It’s Parrish.
“Are you okay?” I ask because he’s gritting his teeth even as his eyes get watery, flooded with emotion that he tries so damn hard not to show. His King Sloth act is just that: an act. He pretends not to care because he cares too much.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, looking down at me with such pain, like his very soul is being ripped in half. “I just don’t know. Tess is … she’s my mom, Dakota. She’s my mom, and you’re her daughter, and I … I can’t do this.” Parrish tears away from me, heading down the hallway as I chase after.
He tries to close his door, but I shoulder my way in anyway, watching as he presses his palm to the wall beside the window. His head hangs down, and he’s panting like he’s run a marathon.
“I thought you liked me,” I say, and now I’m wondering if I might cry, too.
“I do,” he whispers, glancing back at me, his pretty hair falling across his forehead. I can’t stop thinking of his eyes as he looked down at me, burying his fingers in my heat. It felt so good, too, so magical. Why is this happening? Why, why, why? “I really do.” He turns around to look at me, his expression stark and exposed, intimately vulnerable. “I was attracted to you from the first moment I saw you.”
I laugh, but the sound’s a little sniffly.
“I thought my fuckability rating was a three?” I ask, trying to make light of the situation. Parrish gives me this sad, awful smile in exchange.
“I gave Chasm a two; it’s all bullshit, Dakota. Everything is bullshit. You’re the only real thing that I have.”
“Please don’t say that,” I whisper, because it feels like I’m being told goodbye somehow, or like I’m being broken up with.
“You’re an eleven, you know? At least for me.” He looks away, toward the window above the desktop computer. I wonder if that, too, belonged to his grandfather? “But I love Tess. She’s always been there for me. All my best memories are when we’re together. My dad is …” He lets out a sharp, angry laugh. “My dad just doesn’t get it. Tess always has. Tess has always taken care of me. This would kill her, absolutely kill her.”