Tessa
No. Oh, hell no. I might be stupidly happy and made soft by great sex, but I was still the toughest girl in Millwood, and I had no time for Mason brother intimidation tactics. “Thanks for the advice,” I said drily to Nick. “Now get out of my way.”
He didn’t budge. “I don’t think you’re listening.”
I pushed my cart against his jean-clad thighs, but he still didn’t move. I pulled my cart back, then rammed it forward harder, hitting his legs. Did he think he could actually scare me?
He finally moved aside, and I moved on down the aisle. “See, this is why I like your brother better than you,” I said. “He doesn’t try to physically intimidate me. Guys who can walk are overrated.”
He walked next to my shoulder, sticking to me like glue. “Are you making fun of him?”
“I’ll mace anyone who makes fun of him,” I replied, picking up a box of Andrew’s favorite whole-grain cereal. “Are we done here?”
“No. You need to get out of his life.”
I obviously wasn’t going to get rid of him, so I sighed. “Why? Do tell.”
“Because you’ll hurt him.”
I turned the corner to the next aisle. “Considering you don’t know me, that’s a far-reaching assumption.”
“Jesus, you even talk like him. Those big words.”
“Which is strange, because apparently you’re the writer of the duo. You could try articulating yourself beyond growly threats to strange women in grocery stores.” I paused as a thought hit me. “Wait a minute. Why did you follow me to the grocery store? You know where I live.” I stopped my cart and put a hand on my hip. “It’s because if you came to my front door, Andrew would see you on his security camera. Right? You don’t want him to know you talked to me.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t deny it. I could feel the tension coming off him in waves. I was pissing him off, which pleased me. If he thought I would play the demure, sweet girl, he was wrong. I turned and pushed my cart again.
“I am not threatening you,” he said after a minute. He was still walking at my shoulder as I shopped.
“Oh?” I said. “And what will happen if I don’t get out of Andrew’s life? You’ll send me a strongly worded email?”
“Listen,” Nick said. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with here. You don’t understand my brother.”
“I understand him pretty well, actually.” Including how he kisses and his favorite sexual positions, I thought. But I didn’t say it, because it was none of Nick’s business.
“Andrew isn’t like other guys.”
“That’s why I like him.”
“You still don’t get it. He isn’t just some Tinder dude you can date and then dump when you’re bored. He doesn’t play the dating game. If you dump him, you’ll mess him up.”
“And who says I’m going to dump him?”
Nick snorted. “So you’re in this for a long-term relationship? You want to marry him?”
“It’s none of your business what I want,” I snapped. “Besides, maybe Andrew doesn’t want a long-term relationship. Maybe he’ll be the one to dump me.”
I sounded snarky, but it was a cover. Andrew might want to dump me after a while. He was grumpy and independent and used to being on his own. Once the glow of sex wore off, would I just be in the way?
And then what? I was supposed to live across the street from the guy who caved my heart in? Because—I already knew it—I was attached. Andrew meant more to me than anyone else ever had. I didn’t want to think about him dumping me.
“Does he know what you do for a living?” Nick asked as I put my groceries on the checkout belt.
Nick had Googled me, obviously. “Of course he does,” I said. “And he likes it.”
“I’ll bet,” Nick said.
I rolled my eyes. “Shame me if you want, but I happen to know you don’t have a job, either. And you never have. You’re even more useless than I am.”
“You model lingerie for a living,” he growled.
I didn’t, actually. Not anymore. I wasn’t going to take any more modeling gigs, even if they came my way, and sitting on the passenger seat of my car was the stack of papers I had to go through to apply for nursing school. I was going to do something useful, even if Andrew’s brother—and mother—thought I was a tramp. “So what?” I said to Nick.
“If Andrew is going to find someone, then he needs to find someone nice,” Nick said. “Someone who cares for him. Someone… I don’t know, selfless and giving or something. Someone who will put him first.”
I paid for the groceries and picked up my bags. Nick stepped forward to take some of them—so he wasn’t completely without manners—but I snatched them out of his hands and walked away.
I was stung. No, more than that—I was hurt. I wasn’t selfless and giving? I wasn’t nice?
And in the back of my mind was a little voice: He’s right. Andrew deserves someone better than you.
“Okay,” Nick said as he followed me across the hot parking lot. “I shouldn’t have shit on your choice of job.”
“Fuck you,” I said without looking back at him. “Some of us have to make a living, and we do it however we can.”
“Fine. You’re right. I know I can be an asshole. Believe it or not, I’m the nice brother.”
“I can’t believe someone actually married you.”
“Neither can I.”
That was kind of funny, but I was still mad. I beeped open my car and opened the hatchback, shoving grocery bags in. “Andrew told me about the suicide attempts,” I said.
“Jesus Christ. He did?”
“Yes.” In a way I could see why Nick was acting like a flu virus. He’d been with Andrew through all of the worst times and nearly lost him. If it were me who worried about Andrew day and night and some bra-model hussy came along, waving her boobs at him, I’d scratch her eyes out and I wouldn’t think twice.
“He never talks to anyone about that,” Nick said.
“I know. That’s because he never talks to people. Which isn’t exactly good for him, by the way.”
“I know.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. It was nice hair; it was a nice hand. Nick’s wife probably had to wipe up her drool every time she looked at him, even though he was a jerk. “I’m trying to get him to come with me to the comics convention in Detroit, but he refuses to go.”
I tossed in the last bag of groceries and looked at him. It was my turn to be surprised. “He didn’t tell me about that.”
“That’s because he’s being his dumbass self and won’t even consider it. They want us as guests on a panel and to sign comics for readers. It would be fucking amazing, but he won’t go.”
I could see that. A convention venue, crowds, a hotel—Andrew would hate all of those things. Still, I thought it over. “He should go,” I said.
“I agree, and so do his doctor and his therapist.”
I felt my jaw drop. “You talk to his doctors?”
“What do you think?” Nick said. “We’ve been crossing paths for seven years. His physiotherapist and his wellness therapist, too. They don’t tell me anything confidential, but we all know each other, and we all talk. Even though he’s an asshole, he’s still everyone’s favorite patient. They’d walk over broken glass for him.”
“Really?” I said. “So I’m not the only one. I’ve had a crush on him since day one. Like, bad.”
Nick sighed. “It doesn’t matter how fucked up he is, that’s the effect Andrew has on people. I’m used to it. Everyone who gets to know him goes nuts for him. And he doesn’t even notice, which makes it worse.”
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.