Wreck Me (Nova #4)(84)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

***

An hour later, I’m standing in front of the fire talking to Charissa, drinking a cup of soda while staring at Tristan as he chats with a couple of guys I’ve never met before. Tristan seems oddly at ease with his sobriety, but I still keep an eye on him. The two of us are the only sober ones here tonight, and I’m grateful that he’s with me, otherwise it’d be that much more difficult not to drink. I’d give him more brownie points for it, but he has so many already that I’ve lost count of the grand total.

It seems like such a perfect night, but there’s something troubling me. My omission of the truth. There’s still so much I need to tell Tristan, but fear is holding me back.

“So I heard a rumor that you applied for a job at the Mercedes dealership,” Charissa remarks then swigs a gulp from the plastic cup in her hand.

“Yeah…” I answer absentmindedly as Tristan and mine’s eyes connect from across the fire and it’s as if we’re exchanging a secret. Then he winks at me and I uncontrollably shiver before I dazedly focus back on Charissa, replaying her question in my head. “Wait, how did you know that? The only person I’ve told is Tristan.”

She presses me with an all-knowing look. “I have my ways.”

I frown. “Come on, tell me. I’m worried now… that Benny might find out I’m job hunting.”

“Well, he’s going to find out anyway, if you get the job.” She rolls her eyes when I continue to frown. “Oh fine.” She scans the beach, then her fingers enfold around my elbow and she steers me away from the fire. “But you have to keep it a secret.” She lets me go when we’re a safe distance away that no one will hear us.

I nod, peering back at the fire, noting Tristan is watching us. “Fine. I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good,” she says and sips her drink. “My dad owns the dealership.”

“What!” I exclaim, my attention whipping to her.

“Not so loud,” she hisses in a panic.

“Sorry.” I drop my voice a notch. “But how did I not know this?”

She shrugs as she stares off at the dusky parking lot. “We don’t really know that much about each other, do we? And besides, I like living my secretive life. It’s sometimes fun just to have fun, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I don’t—can’t—fully agree with her about the fun thing. As much as I’d love to have more fun, I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything.

“You know, I could put in a good word for you,” she suggests as she twists a strand of her hair around her finger.

“At the dealership?

“Yeah, my dad likes me so it might help.”

“Thanks, Charissa. That means a lot.” I guzzle the rest of my soda then crush the empty plastic cup in my hand. “You know, I never did thank you for throwing me this birthday party. It was really nice of you.”

She smiles brightly then she hikes up her shirt so her flat stomach is showing more. “Thank you. I think it turned out great. Lots of cute guys showed up.” Her gaze flicks to the fire. “Oh, speaking of cute guys.” She nudges me in the side with her elbow then nods her head to our right.

Tristan is emerging from the tipsy and horny mob circled around the bonfire. “Hey,” he says as he reaches me. He smiles and I return it wholeheartedly. Then he looks over at Charissa. “Mind if I steal Avery for a minute? I was going to ask her to dance.”

“I don’t really dance,” I confess. “At least when I don’t have to.”

“Oh, everyone should dance.” He holds out his hand to me and pouts out his lip. “Come on. Come dance with me. It’ll help take my mind off stuff.”

Who can say no to that?

Nodding, I hand the cup to Charissa and place my hand in his. I effortlessly follow him as he escorts me down the sandy path toward the fire. I’m surprised by how fearless I am of the fierce flames, of his warm hand in mine, of the booming music.

Everything.

When we get to the brink of the throng, Tristan circles around me, dragging his fingers across my stomach as he lines his chest with my back.

“Ready?” he whispers in my ear, pressing up against me.

I shiver as I nod. “Ready.”

Then we dance.

And I mean really dance.

I get more lost in myself, lost in him, as we sway together, the fire blazing in front of us, embers covering the sand. The moment is intensely perfect and I try not to think about how bad of a person I am that I haven’t told Tristan much about me, at least when it comes to my sins. But it’s all I can think about.

My pulse twinges with shame, the feeling only intensifying the longer our bodies flawlessly move to the music. Tristan kisses my neck as he rocks his hips and rubs up against me, his hands basking in the softness of my skin. My head is so foggy that even breathing is complicated. I used to hate music, but I suddenly love it. Maybe love it too much.

And just like that, reality slaps me across the face. Cold and harsh.

“Shit.” I suddenly break away from Tristan and shove through the crowd of people and past the fire.

“Avery!” Tristan calls out as he chases after me.

I trip down the beach, below the judging stars. I can’t tell what’s wrong and what’s right anymore. Everything feels so backward at the moment, like my feet are carrying me in the wrong direction, yet I continue down the path.

“Avery, please.” Tristan grabs my arm as he catches up with me. “What the hell is wrong?”

I wiggle my arm, trying to slip away from him, but he only draws me closer until my cheek is pressed against his firm chest and his lean arms are secured around me.

“I’m just confused,” I whisper over the rapid beat of his heart. I clutch his shirt, the rhythm of his pulse soothing, familiar. Too soothing. Too familiar.

He smoothes his hand over my head, his fingers knotting through the strands of my hair. “About what?”

“About you and I.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Please, please tell me what to do. I’m scared and confused.

Do I tell him?

Do I run?

What am I supposed to be doing?

His hand pauses in my hair. “What about you and me?”

My eyelids flutter open and I peer up at him, then at the stars, seeking guidance. All I receive is silence, though, nothing more. And suddenly, I know that it’s time.

For me to let go.

To decide.

On my own.

What I want.