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We had a moment of silent agreement, the first one we’d had since he accosted me in the store. Both of us stood there in the ugly parking lot, thinking about how one guy in a wheelchair made us both crazy in the best possible way. It was almost like Nick and I had something in common, like we could be friends.
And then he ruined it. “I have to look out for him,” Nick said. “There’s been no one else to do it since the accident. I want what’s best for him, that’s all.”
My throat closed. Because what was best for Andrew probably wasn’t me. He was right. I wasn’t nice or sweet or understanding. I didn’t know how to be with a man who had as many needs as Andrew did, the sharp and specific kind that you couldn’t guess at. Hell, I’d never even had a long-term relationship with a man who had working legs and an average IQ. I was in over my head with Andrew.
I was that raw teenage girl again, the one who wasn’t good enough. Not good enough for her parents or school or friends or boys. I wasn’t going to get accepted to nursing school—that was a pipe dream. The truth was, I was a fucked-up girl who was no one. I was hot and sexy, and that was literally all I was.
Andrew needed someone he could lean on, someone who could actually help him with his shit. He didn’t need me.
“I got it,” I said, my voice choked.
Nick’s eyes narrowed in alarm when he heard my voice. “Hey,” he said.
“No, really. I got it.” I slammed my hatchback shut. “I’m okay for your brother to get laid with, but I don’t cut it anywhere else. I hear you. We’re clear.”
For the first time, he looked a little bit contrite. “I didn’t really… That isn’t what I meant.”
I pulled my sunglasses from on top of my head and put them on. “Sure it is,” I said. “We understand each other, don’t we, Nick Mason? I know your type, and you know mine. Have a nice day.”
I got in my car and drove off, leaving him standing there, alone.
TWENTY-NINE
Andrew
When Tessa cameto the door, I buzzed her in, barely glancing at the security feed. I was deep in a coding problem on the Lightning Man website, my earbuds in my ears, CCR playing on my iPhone. I wasn’t in a bad mood for once. In fact, life almost seemed pretty freaking good.
I’d run reports on Lightning Man sales this morning, and downloads were up twenty percent over the previous month. We had fans writing in to the Gmail account I’d set up and a company interested in printing Lightning Man merchandise. Evie, who owned a bakery during the day, had taken a few evenings to set up an Instagram account for us, and we already had over five thousand followers. The hobby that Nick and I—a college dropout and his depressed, wheelchair-bound brother—had started in desperation was catching on.
We’d never planned on taking Lightning Man public at first. But we had, and people were reading it. It felt pretty good.
And then there was Tessa.
I’d never planned on her, either, but here she was. Those long legs and that blonde hair. The way she arched an eyebrow when I was being an ass and the way she threw her head back and laughed when one of my jokes caught her off-guard. She was either hanging out with me during the day or sending me caustic texts from wherever she happened to be. And at night, there was sex. Glorious, magical, incredible sex. How had I lived so long without sex? How had I lived so long without Tessa?
She came through the door as I pulled my earbuds out, her arms weighed down with groceries. Her big sunglasses were on, showing only her nice nose and her sexy mouth. “Hey,” she said.
I looked at the bags. “You bought groceries?”
“Well, yeah.” She walked into the kitchen. “I eat all of your food, Mason, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” I said, watching her walk through the doorway. Even in loose-fitting cargo pants, Tessa walking was a nice thing to watch. The nicest. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“I know,” she said from the kitchen. “I’m trying not to be an asshole.”
It was something in her voice, maybe. A slightly flat tone. I put my phone down and turned my chair so I wasn’t facing my desk. “What’s wrong?”
She was still in the kitchen, the cupboards banging. “Wrong?”
“Yes, wrong. As in not right.”
She was silent for a long minute as the cupboards continued to bang, the fridge opened and closed. Then she came back out to the living room, empty-handed. She pulled the sunglasses from her face and leaned against the doorframe, looking at me.
“What?” I said.
She blinked and bit her lip, looking away.
“Tessa.”
