Scorched (Frigid #2)(30)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

A moment passed. “No. I don’t know. Explain?”

“Guys just kind of expect it,” I said, toying with the tab on the can. “No one goes home from bars expecting to chat.”

There was another stretch of silence. “Maybe people shouldn’t go home with others if they think they’ll owe someone something.” His words were clipped, stern.

My head jerked up and our gazes met. “I’m not sure if that was an insult or not.”

He frowned. “It’s not an insult. You should never feel like you owe a guy that. No matter what. I don’t care if they ate you out or gave you a million dollars.”

I raised my brows. “Ate me out or a million dollars? Nice use of examples there. I don’t know, Tanner. I think if someone gave me a million dollars, I’d be down for just about anything.”

His frown turned into a scowl.

“I was joking,” I added softly.

Tanner’s stare was unnerving. “Have you ever been… forced into doing that, Andrea?”

His question caused me to flinch back. “What? No! That’s not what I meant. It’s just sometimes…” I trailed off as what I was saying really sank in. The soda curdled in my stomach, and I wished I hadn’t shoved the huge chunks of cheese into my mouth. My head raced back through the nights that I’d gone home knowing the guy expected to get laid, but not wanting to. I’d done that, because at that time, I’d thought there were no other options. Stupid. There were always options. Like “no,” for example.

Then there were those nights I really couldn’t remember.

Jesus. I felt sick. I didn’t like where my head was going with this. Sweat dotted my palms. It wasn’t like I’d been… I couldn’t even finish that thought. I didn’t know what that meant—doing things because I felt like I had to, or not remembering what I did sometimes. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to grab hold of those thoughts.

I needed a drink.

Okay. That was probably not the best response to the situation.

Tanner reached over, tapping his fingers along my arm. “I’m thinking some pretty bad things right now.”

I couldn’t look at him.

“I hope it’s just my head jumping to conclusions unjustly,” he added.

The next breath I took hurt for some reason. “It’s jumping to conclusions.”

His hand stilled and he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and squeezed softly. “Hey,” he said gently. “Look at me.”

Drawing in a shallow breath, I lifted my gaze and our eyes met. Held. A heartbeat passed, and I felt stripped bare, more exposed than I had been earlier.

“I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m here. No matter the time of the day. You got that?”

And then I saw it plain as day in his gaze. There was no mistaking it. Not just sympathy. Part of me could’ve dealt with that, but there was more lurking in those blue eyes.

Pity.

He stared at me, full of pity. Every muscle in my body tightened. Skin prickled with uncomfortable heat. The urge to get away rushed through me. I couldn’t do this.

Tanner

I saw the exact moment Andrea shut down on me. As soon as I told her that she could talk to me about anything, shutters closed over her eyes. The girl who’d sat next to me and laughed was gone. The girl who opened up about her parents had left the room. And the girl who had cried out, surrendered herself, was nowhere to be seen.

Shit.

“Andy—”

“I’m really tired.” She swung her legs off the bed and stood before I could respond. “I think it’s time for me to get some sleep.” She started toward the door, seemed to remember that we were in her room, stopped, and placed her soda on a dresser. Her back was to me.

Heart dropping, I scooted off the bed and held myself back. I had a feeling that going to her would somehow make this worse. “Andrea, I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t do anything.” Slowly, she faced me and plastered a smile across her pretty face. Fake. Plastic. “I’m just really tired all of a sudden. You wore me out.” Her laugh was brittle-sounding. “I need my beauty rest.”

I opened my mouth, but clamped my jaw shut as her smile spread—the kind of smile doctors wore when giving patients bad news.

She gathered up a bundle of clothing from the chair, cradling the items close to her chest as she stopped in front of the bed. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

A huge part of me wanted to demand to know what the hell was going on, but there was no mistaking that her walls were up. I watched her hurry into the bathroom and quietly close the door.

I briefly considered plopping my ass down and waiting for her, but I’d accidentally hit a raw nerve, and frankly, I was too pissed to really have this conversation. Not angry at her, but if she really had done things with guys because she felt like she had to instead of wanting to, it was likely I’d punch a wall.

Thank God I did not have a sister.

If I couldn’t deal with the thought of assholes treating Andrea like that, what the hell would I do if I had a sister? Fuck. I’d end up in jail.

Angry and beyond frustrated, I gathered up our drinks and what was left of the cheese and left the room, taking them downstairs. The first level was dark and quiet, and after grabbing a bottle of water, I ended up back upstairs, in my room.

Shit.

Dropping down on the bed, I ran my hands over my face. Things were all over the place with Andrea and me, but I felt like we’d moved forward. It wasn’t just because what she and I had done in that bed, but because of everything before, during and after that. But now? I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d taken one huge step backward.

Chapter 12

Andrea

My brows rose as I watched Syd place a backpack by the kitchen island. It looked like it weighed more than she did.

“You’re going to carry that while hiking?” I asked.

“Yep.” She tugged her hair up and secured it with a hair tie. “It’s really not that bad and it’s smart to be prepared in case something happens.”

“Like when a rabid bear tries to eat you?”

She grinned. “I don’t think we’re going to run into any rabid bears. And we’re not just going to hike. We’re going to camp out for the night.”

I gaped at her. “Seriously?”

Walking over to the counter, she grabbed the pot of coffee and began pouring the steaming liquid into her Thermos. “Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder at me and laughed. “You should see your expression. It’s like I just told you that we’re going to go camping on Mount Everest or something.”