She probably already had her bags packed.
She wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me traveling with her. She would end up going back to Douchebag, and she wouldn’t finish school. If that were the case, it meant I had pretty much fucked up her entire life because I was horny.
What an asshole.
I leaned against the wall just beside the door and held my face in my hands. My head was getting a little swimmy, and I realized my impromptu run had also left me dehydrated. Growling at myself, I straightened up and turned to open the door.
It was quiet inside.
It only took a second to see she wasn’t in either the kitchen or the living room, which didn’t leave me many more options. Though I would rather have hidden behind a beer at the kitchen table, I had to fix this.
How?
Convince her it was a joke? A mistake? I didn’t mean it?
I wasn’t completely sure I was going to be able to do that and decided maybe a bit of a stall tactic was warranted—at least long enough to grab a glass of water. Once in the kitchen, I downed it quickly, half hoping she would just appear behind me so I didn’t have to walk back into the bedroom.
Maybe she left while I was out.
I glanced over at the suitcase that still sat, partially open, at the end of the couch, and found myself annoyed she still hadn’t bothered to put anything into the dresser drawer I cleared out for her.
Because she knew she wasn’t going to stay long.
I wanted to slam my head against the wall a few times but figured if she was still here—and she probably was—the noise would just scare her. I took a long breath to prepare myself and pushed forward. I turned the corner slowly and found Tria sitting at the edge of the bed. She looked up as soon as I came into view, and I could see redness around her eyes.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
Tria looked away, wiped at her eyes, and then looked back at me with a fierce glare that almost sent me stumbling backward.
“For what?” she demanded. “What exactly are you sorry for?”
“For…um…for the uh…”
“For what?” she yelled louder. She stood up and walked toward me. “Tell me right now, Liam Teague! What exactly are you apologizing for because I need to figure out whether or not I’m going to slap you!”
I gulped but couldn’t come up with what I should say next.
“Is that all you want, huh?” she asked as she took another step closer. She came right up to me and shoved me in the center of my chest. “Are you just hoping the convenient roommate and cook would become a convenient fuck, too? Is that it?”
I had to take a step back from the words she was hurling at me. Of all the reactions I was expecting, this wasn’t even on the list.
“What…um…no!”
“So then what is it, Teague?” she said, her voice sounding like a snarl. “What are you sorry about?”
“Because of…of what I did?” I didn’t mean it to sound like a question, but I wasn’t really sure myself.
“Tell me!” she screeched, shoving me again. She didn’t actually move me back, but I could tell she was trying to put some force into it. “Are you sorry you kissed me or sorry you ran out on me afterwards?”
Tears began to stream down her face.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I told her the truth.
“I don’t want to fuck up your life,” I said. “I don’t want you to leave because I’m an ass.”
She looked up at me, and her expressive brown eyes seemed to be searching right through me and into my soul. Something told me she was going to find more there than she ever wanted to see.