“I know who you are. Are you sober enough to deal with me?”
“Depends.” I lift the hem of her shirt and start sliding my hand up.
“Focus, Lucas.” She smacks my hand away.
“You came here, knowing I’m fucked up. You let me play with your tits—”
“Let you? You just grabbed them.”
I take a finger and run it up and down her lips quickly so she can’t talk, and she laughs.
“Stop. Give me five minutes.”
“You’re straddling me, smiling, giggling, and you expect me to focus? You really are a mess, baby—”
She covers my mouth with her hand. “Collin said …”
I take her hand off my mouth and sit up. “Tessa, I’m drunk, wasted, seriously fucked up, and even I still know Collin isn’t talking to you.” She tries to rationalize, but I continue. “I want to help you, okay? But talking about your husband while straddling me and acting all … I don’t know, fucking giddy, is a sure sign that you need more help that I can give you.”
She’s laughing now.
“Okay, let’s go see Jade.”
I try to stand, but she pushes me back.
“Tessa, so help me God. I’m trying to be a good guy now, but I’m fucked up and you manhandling me isn’t doing anything but making me harder. Not cool since you’re here, talking about shit we both know isn’t real.”
“He wrote you a letter.”
“I know. He told me about Ashley.”
“No, about me. He wrote you a letter about me.” Her eyes are sparkling. She’s happy, or insane, and right now, I have no clue which it is, ’cause I’m fucked up. “I want to read it to you. I might cry, but I know I’m gonna be okay. Because Collin said so.” She giggles again.
“Tessa …”
“Let me.”
I’m getting nervous now, and she can tell. Her facial expression changes, and now she looks concerned.
“Am I too late? Do you not still … I don’t know.” She covers her face with a letter. “Lucas, I didn’t kiss or sleep with Zach Taylor. But if I’m too late, if you don’t still—”
I take the letter out of her hand and focus as best I can as she sits, watching me read it. I look up, and she’s smiling even as tears fall down her face.
A bit choked up myself, I finish the letter then reach over and set it on my nightstand.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She smiles, and I wipe her tears. She holds my hand to her face and closes her eyes.
“So, what now?”
She shrugs, and I sit up.
“Do you still want me? I mean, when I’m ready, do you still want me or not?”
“What do you think?” I push her hair away from her face.
“I think I’m not ready for anyone to know.”