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‘So that’s a yes.’
‘I don’t know. Well, no. It’s your body. I’m not going to tell you what to do with it.’
‘So you don’t want me to.’
‘All I’m trying to say is that if you ever decided to get the other one done I wouldn’t be overly upset about it.’
Tate smirks. ‘Clear as mud, thanks.’
‘But can you promise me something?’
‘I’ll give it a shot.’
‘Whatever tattoo you get can you please promise me you won’t let Gregg anywhere near you when it’s being done. Actually, make sure he’s in another country altogether. I dread to think what he could dare you to get done.’
∞
After saving goodbye to Chloe, Tate pulls into his parents’ driveway and stares over at the front door. For some reason facing them after getting out of rehab was easier than this is going to be. He had a meltdown and beat his friend. It was stupid and childish. If he was looking for a way to prove to his mum that he was coping grand with everything, that wasn’t the way to do it.
He jumps when someone knocks on his window. His dad smiles at him as he opens the door and gets out. ‘You sitting in there all day or do you fancy actually coming into the house?’
‘Am I welcome?’
Rick looks away and makes a face. ‘You eaten yet?’
‘No.’
‘Right. C’mon then. You can do your grovelling while we eat.’
Two hours later, Tate wanders outside and over to the stables. His grovelling comprised of an I’m sorry and a hug. They were cutting him way too much slack and he knows why. They were afraid to push him too hard in case he did something stupid again. The infuriating itching builds again but he ignores it. After saddling Jove, he brings him to the beach and heads away from the house.
Lunch had been one of the single most awkward experiences he’s had for a while. Putting on a show for his parents so they’d think everything was hunky-fucking-dory wasn’t easy.
He’s keeping so much shit to himself to protect the people he loves. To protect the band, his parents, and Chloe. An invisible hand twists in his gut at the thought of losing her. Even after this short time, she is quickly becoming an important part of his life. He’d do anything to keep her away from all the mental shit he’s dealing with.
She’s taking a chance attaching herself to someone like him. A heroin addict just out of rehab with too many public ex-girlfriends. Not exactly what people look for in a partner.
But she had said yes. She’s his girlfriend.
He says it over and over in his head but it’s still not sinking in.
He never thought calling someone his girlfriend would sound so good. Thirty-six years-old and he’s finally in a real relationship. Sex and parties. That was as deep and meaningful as it got for him in the past. And that’s probably down to him. Thinking back he’s disgusted at some of the things he’d done over the last few years. He’d been a right selfish asshole at times.
Tate snaps out of his thoughts as a wave hits his leg, soaking him. He hadn’t realised he was in the fucking sea. He can’t keep zoning out like this. Things improved while she was with him. She distracted him, calmed him. She was able to keep his head from wandering to stuff he didn’t want to remember. Without her, there’s nothing to stop the darkness from taking him.
He turns Jove around and guides him back to the beach. Being with her made him feel more like himself. Like the old, pre-fuck up version. Then again, it’s not like that version of himself was anything to write home about.
Tate looks up the beach as he rubs the side of Jove’s neck. No sign of Chloe. Less than a few hours have gone by since he dropped her home. Getting through the day without her is going to be fun at this rate.
He readjusts his grip on the reins as Jove paws at the sand. He’s desperate to be set free. It takes barely a nudge from Tate to spur Jove on, his hooves crashing through the shallows as he gallops down the beach. As the wind whistles past him, Tate realises he may be heading down another unfamiliar path with Chloe.
If he’s not careful he could easily fall for her.
