Page 8 of Insatiable

“You haven’t left her bedside in four months, Dr. Morgan. You need this time off. I really hope that Tate will recover one hundred percent. She loves her career. I would hate to see her unable to go back to it.” She sighs then continues, “But I am not worried, with three men looking after her, I am sure she will be just fine.” She looks up and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, goes back to typing. I can’t help but smile. “If you need my help outside of work just give me a call. I am very fond of her. Plus, we have to continue our private book club.” She laughs but continues typing.

“Book club? Do I even want to know?” I raise my eyebrow in question, but she doesn’t look at me as she answers.

“No, unless you love a good smutty supernatural romance. I’m talking werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and all the things that go bump in the night.” Her smile gets wider, and my eyes go wide with shock.

“Tate likes books like that?” I ask, making a mental note to make sure she gets a Kindle.

“Heck, yes. What woman doesn’t like to be swept off her feet by a monster?” Nurse Grey cackles like a witch and I lose it. I laugh out loud for just a second, before I cover my mouth with my hands to smother my laugh remembering I am among the sick. I blame my favorite nurse. I think that is my cue to leave. I tap the counter lightly and that is all the answer she needs from me as I walk away from her.

“Just don’t mess it up, Cace,” she says from behind me. I stop, dropping my chin to my chest and sigh.

“I will try. I will try my best.” I salute her and keeping walking.

There is nothing in the world that I want more than to make Tate Charles happy. I don’t plan on screwing this second chance up. The question is, will she choose us this time around?

I’m pacing the driveway of Cace’s big ass beachfront property wondering what the hell I am doing here. It’s been thirty minutes since Cace texted me, and my nerves are getting the better of me. Leaving my bags by the front door, I let the sound of waves pull me to the back of the house. Loosening my tie and discarding my jacket on the wraparound glass patio, I remove my shoes and socks, roll up my sleeves and walk out onto the private beach. I shield my eyes from the setting sun and watch the waves crash along the shoreline. Cace’s beach house is impressive. It doesn’t get lost on me that he didn’t answer my question. This house, at this location, with a private beach, must have cost a fortune. Why does he need a house this big?

The contemporary three-level beach house with a glass wraparound patio on each level feels like a palace. The house is open plan, and I can see a mahogany hardwood staircase that leads all the way up to the top floor. There isn’t an obstructed view of the ocean. The back walls are made of gigantic glass sliding doors. On the ground floor the doors open onto a small, manicured lawn, but the rest of it is tiered, descending levels that lead your eyes down to the beach. Going down a set of concrete steps, the next level has a large pool and a hot tub surrounded by lounge chairs for sunbathing. ‘Like we sunbathe, come on, Cace,’ I think to myself and quietly laugh. Taking another set of steps bringing you closer to the beach is a firepit surrounded by crisp white padded lawn chairs and outdoor dining area. This is a house for a family. It’s sleek and modern, but warm and inviting at the same time.

I honestly think Cace is being presumptuous. Tate will take one look at this and see straight through it. She’s been through hell and back these past few months. I almost expected him to text me saying that she turned him down and was on the next plane back to LA. But she didn’t, and I am sure he is just full of hope. Hope. I don’t have much of that anymore. ‘You’re here for Tatum,’ I tell myself. Her nickname gives me butterflies for a brief moment, before reality swoops in and crushes all of my happiness.

Not all of us have our shit together like Cace or even Jay for that matter. They stayed single. They held a candle for her even after they found out she was getting married. I took her advice all those years ago and tried to move on. I let the first southern debutante that batted her eyelashes at me sink her hooks in and fell in love. I turned my back on my friends because it was too painful; the memories of what we all once had I needed to keep locked away. That type of friendship is once in a lifetime. We orbited around Tate because she was our sun.

When we all separated after graduation, I stayed in Texas. Went to law school in Austin to be closer to my family and tried to make a life for myself. I kept tabs on all of them. They were never far from the recesses of my mind. Then I met Vanessa. She was what I thought I wanted, no needed. An aspiring lawyer like me, smart, beautiful, and driven. I threw myself into our relationship and after we graduated from law school, we had a massive society wedding. The type of wedding that I knew Tate would hear about. Hell, I wanted her to. I wanted her to know I was happy. She told us to be happy and I tried to hold on to that happiness like my life depended on it. Jay and Cace were my best men, but Tate declined my invitation because she was working on a major motion picture at the time. I wasn’t hurt. I didn’t want her to see straight through my façade. That I was like Jay and Cace and my candle still flickered for her too.

As the last of the sun falls into the waters, the light from inside the house turns on, casting me into shadow along the sand. Feeling eyes on me, I turn to see Tate standing on the first-floor patio looking out into the ocean and beyond. Then, she looks at me.

“Sean,” she says my name. I haven’t heard her voice in so long. I didn’t know I needed to hear my name fall from her lips so badly. My feet are moving before my brain can register that I am walking to her. Until now I didn’t know that could even happen. I climb the steps as I take her in. Her hair is shorter on the left side than the right. It shows the scar on the side of her head in all of its painful glory. I think of it as a badge of honor for being too badass to be killed off that easily. Her big brown eyes are sad, but my girl is there. Her navy-blue yoga pants and oversized white t-shirt try to hide her thinner body from me but that doesn’t stop my eyes from scanning her from head to toe. She is here, she’s alive, and that is all that matters.

Stepping up onto the patio, she faces me. We stare at each other for the longest time. Unlike the others, I understand her pain. She tried just as I had to move on, a chance to love someone else, and to carve out her own piece of happiness. My attempt ended in divorce, and she almost died. Have we all been swimming against the tide this entire time?

I take a quick glance into the house and spot Jay pulling my luggage through the house. The gang was indeed all here. Lifting his chin to me in greeting with a big smile on his face, I watch as he climbs the stairs then turn back to Tate.

“Tatum.” I realize then how unkempt I look. The deconstructed business casual look I am rocking. I shove my hands into my pockets as she eyes my bare feet.

“This is a good look on you.” She offers me a small smile, and it’s enough. I feel myself settle, as a sense of calm reassurance claims me for the first time in eight long years. After what I’ve been through, I didn’t know how much I needed such a small gesture. I close the distance between us, and I don’t give her a chance to protest as I take her in my arms and hold her close to my chest. I’m overcome with so much emotion my eyes blur with tears. Taking a deep breath to control myself I place her back on her feet. She looks up at me, reaching up to hold my head between her hands. Her right-hand trembles slightly and I lean into it, offering her silent comfort while I seethe with anger for what happened to her.

For a brief moment, I let my own walls fall away and I let her see, really see me: my hurt, my anger, and my sadness. Vanessa and I were married for two years before I found out that she was cheating on me with another colleague at the law firm we both worked for. I wasn’t enough for her.

Tate’s soft fingers bring me back to the present and our eyes lock again.

“What happened?” she asks, her voice is quiet. Her eyes move back and forth, taking in every inch of me in like she’s memorizing my face. I bring my hand up and cover hers, letting my warmth seep into her cold hands.

“I tried and failed, Tate. I tried and failed,” I say with defeat in my voice. I couldn’t pretend I was ok. I couldn’t lie to her and tell her I was okay, because I wasn’t. I signed my divorce papers the day Cace called me and told me what happened to Tate. I’ve been out of sorts ever since.

“You want me to punch her in the tit for you?” My eyes go wide with shock at her words. She smirks, with a hint of mischief, making light of this intense moment between us. I throw my head back and laugh. Tate has a way of making everything better. Instead of pushing me to tell her everything she made me laugh and it made my world a little lighter. I appreciate her more than she knows.

“I might take you up on that, slugger. Let’s get you fight ready first, okay?” I stroke her face once more and she steps away. The little bubble between us burst and both our walls go up.

“I can’t believe we are all here,” Tate says as she leans against the glass railing. “And this house, Cace is insane. How can he afford this?” She looks at me and I shrug.

“I am sure between him and our black Elon Musk inside they made this happen easily.” Tate raises her eyebrows then looks away from me.

“Black Elon Musk!” She laughs. “I guess I picked the wrong profession.” She keeps her eyes trained on the ocean lost in thought.

“Like your house in Culver City is not as impressive. Don’t downplay your success, Tatum.” She turns to me at the mention of her home.

“You know where I live? How?” She folds her arms over her chest and leans her hip against the glass railing.