My parents. My anxiety ratchets up so quickly at the thought I shudder. Tate touches my shoulder. I shudder again. He pulls his hand back. “Liv, you know they’ll support you.”
“I know. I don’t want them to, though,” I reply and, as if he senses my stress, Dylan discards the truck Tate gave him and starts to try and climb my legs, tugging on the leg of my pajamas. I pull him into my lap and he immediately snuggles into me.
“I felt the same way when I found out about Dylan. I didn’t want to tell any of you because I didn’t want help. But I was wrong,” Tate replies and runs a hand over Dylan’s head. His blond hair is almost white thanks to a summer at the lake. “I should have told them immediately.”
“He should have,” Tenley agrees. She’s been watching me quiet as a mouse, hugging her knees to her chest in the chair.
“The difference is Dylan is here forever,” I explain and it’s tough trying to put my feelings into words. “This isn’t forever. I don’t want this to be forever. It was a thing that happened. It sucks. I’m fine. I don’t want to have to keep talking about it forever. I don’t want Dad to be stressed about me living here. I don’t want Mom to ask me if I’m okay until the end of time.”
“I get that but…” Tenley sighs. “I’m worried about you.”
“Please don’t be. I’m going to be okay. I swear,” I say firmly.
Tate and Tenley exchange pessimistic glances. I frown as Dylan squirms a little in my lap. “I’m serious. I refuse to not be okay.”
Mallory comes back into the living room carrying a glass of orange juice in one hand and a sandwich on a plate in the other. “BLT with avocado. I made them earlier for the rest of us and left some extra ingredients in case you woke up.”
“Thank you. I need coffee too.” I put the plate down and lift Dylan into Tate’s lap, but Tenley pops up from her chair like a backyard firework going off.
“I’ll make it for you!” She disappears into the kitchen.
Mallory takes Tenley’s vacated seat and I take a bite of the sandwich. It’s delicious, but they’re all watching me like I’m a baby panda at a zoo or something. I swallow and smile. “Thanks. It’s perfect.”
“You’re welcome.” Mallory smiles. “How else can we help? I’ve been through a bit of a different kind of trauma so I know that people’s idea of what you might need and what you really need can be two different things.”
A stricken look flashes over Tate's face for a heartbeat. Mallory was in a car crash last year with her best friend—Dylan's mom—who didn't survive. I swallow another bite of the sandwich. "I need to…"
Be smarter. Be stronger. Have less to lose.
“I need something to look forward to,” I say as something blooms in my memory. Something Tenley said last week. I turn my head toward the kitchen door, which is one of those swinging ones from the sixties. It’s propped open right now. “Ten! Are you still going to Vegas next week?”
“I can cancel!” she calls out and appears in the doorway with a coffee mug in her hands. “Tate and Mallory won’t care.”
“I don’t want you to cancel,” I tell her and take the cup. “I want to go with you.”
“What?” Tate looks shocked.
“I know. It’s not my jam, but I need a distraction,” I explain. “And it will be fun, right?”
Tate, Tenley, and Mallory all exchange glances. I start to get annoyed. I mean, yeah, it's not something I would have ever wanted to do before. But what I wanted to do, who I was, and the choices I made, led to me getting randomly attacked by a stranger who wanted to either mug me or rape me or kill me, or all three. So I think now is as good a time as any to do something that isn't what I always do.
“I can go somewhere else, by myself, if you guys don’t have room or don’t want me there,” I announce and put the sandwich down, ready to head back into my room.
Tate wraps an arm around my shoulder and gently pulls me against his big, hulking frame. “You are always welcome to come, Livvy. Right, Ten?”
“Yes. Of course.” Tenley nods emphatically. “We have a suite booked. Plenty of room.”
“Cool.” I reach for the sandwich and try not to shake as I bring it to my mouth.
This is what I need. I'm not going to sit here and be the same lame duck that got me targeted to begin with. And I'm going to make sure that if God forbid, this ever happens again, I have one less thing to worry about.
I’m going to go to Vegas and I’m going to lose my virginity.
Chapter2
Crew
Nash is seething, which is hard to do while also panting as heavy as a cow in labor. I don’t even try to bite back my smile. “Fuck you. I’m still recovering from surgery.”