“Maybe.” Van smiled tightly. “Good night, kiddo.”
“Good night.” Zoe hugged her tight, and for a moment Van felt her heart rate slow down. Zoe’s hair smelled the same as Van’s – she’d begged to use her shampoo that morning. But there was a sweetness there, too. Probably the soda and candy she’d indulged on earlier. Whatever it was, it smelled like peace.
She locked all the doors as Zoe brushed her teeth, and turned out the living room light. Compared to the rest of the house, Van’s bedroom felt warm and inviting. She’d bought a new bedspread and pillow shams, and their pale gray and white flowers looked welcoming.
She glanced at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. How many times had she looked in this glass as a kid? She’d lean forward and scrutinize the freckles that dappled the bridge of her nose, wishing her skin was as pristine as Chrissie Fairfax’s. She’d scowl at the way her hair always curled into soft waves, wishing it was as straight as her friends’. No matter how many times Tanner told her she was beautiful, she hadn’t believed it.
At the age of twenty-eight she’d thought she was beyond those emotions.
And yet… her heart didn’t seem to agree. It felt so small right now. Like she was still little Van Butler, Kim’s kid. The one who had to go to school and scavenge food from wherever she could because her mom had forgotten to go to the grocery store. Pride had been her shield in those days. She’d always made sure she had the last laugh by pretending not to care.
But the truth was she did care. Too much. And now everybody would be talking about her again. How her mom was drunk in the Moonlight Bar and argued with Johnny Fairfax’s girl. That she had to slur out an apology to avoid the cops being called.
Van’s eyes prickled at the thought of having to walk through the town tomorrow, knowing she was at the center of the gossip. And yet she would, because that’s what she did. Pretended she didn’t care. Not about Chrissy or Natalie or anybody else that looked down on her mom.
Or about the way Tanner smiled at Chrissie tonight, his eyes soft and warm. Van’s stomach churned at the memory.
The tears were rolling down her cheeks. Angrily, she wiped them away and turned from her reflection, grabbing her shorts and tank top from beneath her pillow to take to the bathroom. She had enough of feeling sorry for herself. She wasn’t that kid anymore. It was okay, it really was.
Tap tap.
At first she thought it was Zoe or her mom knocking on her bedroom door. But then she realized the sound was coming from her window. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned, half expecting to see the police standing on the other side of the glass.
But instead it was a man. A tall one, with dark hair and thick muscles that molded the lines of his black top. Their eyes met, and for a moment she stared at him, her body flooding with emotions at the sight.
Walking over to the window, her hand shook as she unlatched the lever, pushing the pane out until the evening air rushed in.
“Hey. I saw the light in your window. I wanted to check that you’re okay.”
“I’m good.” Maybe it was even true, because he was here and not with Chrissie Fairfax. God, it was good to see him.
“I’m sorry about what happened.” He curled his fingers around the windowsill, leaning in through the open pane. “I tried to get your mom to come home… before you arrived.”
Her lips curled into the hint of a smile. “Thank you for trying. I hope she didn’t say anything too embarrassing to you.”
“She might have mentioned all those times she found me in your bed.”
Van let out a mouthful of air. “We were kids. There was nothing to it.” Her skin warmed at the memory of the way they’d curled up together.
“She thought I was hitting on her, too.” Tanner’s lip quirked up. “In case she says anything to you.”
Of course she did. A wave of mortification washed over Van again. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what she said.”
“It’s not your fault.” His voice was soft. But it did nothing to take away the embarrassment suffusing her. She closed her eyes in attempt to stem the tears, again. Damn, she hated crying. She didn’t want him to see her like this.
“Van, it’s not.” There was a certainty to his voice that she wanted to believe.
She nodded, her eyes still squeezed shut. Drawing in a ragged breath, she willed the tears to dry up, but she still felt them hot against her lids.
There was a scuffle, then Tanner was inside her room. His hand raked through his hair as he walked toward her, coming to a stop inches from where she was standing. His hot gaze caught hers, and she felt breathless, frozen to the spot as she waited for his next move.
“Come here.” He wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders, his hand cupping the back of her head as he pulled her to him.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, as she let her face press against his chest. She could smell the warm scent of his cologne, and the clean aroma of soap. His shirt was thin enough for her to feel the hardness of his muscles against her cheek.
“It’s not okay,” she whispered. “It’s not.”
She felt him press his lips against her head. His fingers tangled in her hair, brushing the nape of her neck, and he tipped her head back until her gaze caught his.
“Don’t cry. I fucking hate it when you cry.”
“Me too.” She gave him a watery smile. “So much.”
He wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, his touch leaving a trail of fire across her cheek. “Did you know your eyes change color when you have tears in them?” he whispered. “They look more green than blue.”
No, she didn’t. But the fact he noticed made her chest feel tight.
She was so aware of the way his body felt against hers. She could feel the denim of his jeans against her legs, the hardness of his thighs against her hips. Taking a deep breath, she blinked the last of her tears away, and he followed their trail with his eyes.
“I’ve stopped now.”
A half smile pulled at his lips. “Good.”
“Do you think she’ll call the cops?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Chrissie? Can you imagine? Officer, I’d like to report a stained dress.”
For the first time since she’d gotten that phone call, Van felt like laughing. “I don’t get why she hates me so much. I know I hit her when we were in school, but that was years ago. What the hell did I do to deserve all that anger?”
“She hates you because you’re real,” Tanner told her, his jaw tight as he stared down at her. “Because you’re stronger, cleverer, and more beautiful than she is.” He lowered his head until his brow touched hers. He was close, so close, and he took her breath away. “You’re worth ten of her. You always were.”
His words felt like a beautiful pointed knife. Cutting her in two, but in such a pleasurable way. “Tanner…” she breathed, feeling the old familiar need engulfing her.
“Shh. Don’t say another word.” She could feel the warm air of his breath.
“But…”
He put his finger on her lips, and she tried to swallow down a smile. She used to drive him crazy with her talking. But that’s how she always thought. Out loud.