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If There's No Tomorrow, Page 25

Jennifer L. Armentrout


  Sebastian let out a low, husky laugh when he pulled his hand away and I tugged his hair harder. “I’m not done.”

  Oh Lord.

  His mouth moved over mine as those clever fingers of his went farther south, over the band of my sleep bottoms, stopping for only a heart-stopping moment. My entire body tensed in anticipation, and then his hand slipped between my legs. A sense of wildness invaded every pore. This was insane, completely crazy, but I didn’t care. The pants were thin, and it was like nothing was between his hand and me. Every part of my body zeroed in on that hand and his fingers. Electricity zipped through my veins and—

  A door closed in the hallway. My eyes flew open. Sebastian halted, lips above mine, hand still between my legs as his head turned to the door. I waited for it to fly open and Mom to either congratulate us or kill us. When neither happened and the door stayed closed, I relaxed a little.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, heart now thumping for a whole different reason.

  Grinning like a madman, his gaze shifted to mine and he raised his eyebrows. “That would’ve been awkward.”

  “You think?” I pushed at his chest with my right hand even though I wanted to pull him back onto me. “You should probably get going.”

  “Yeah.” Sebastian chuckled as he rolled onto his side. “But first, I want to ask you to do something.”

  “What?”

  “You know how we don’t have a late practice on Thursday before the game?” he asked, and I nodded. “So I’ll be home early, and Mom and Dad want to have dinner with my new girlfriend.”

  I froze. Did I hear him correctly? No way. But when I turned my head toward him and saw the smile, that sexy, heart-smashing smile, I knew I’d heard him right. A surge of conflicting thoughts and feelings swamped me. Elation was like a balloon lifting me up to the ceiling, but I was popped of all air before I could reach it. Guilt dug in with icy claws, latching itself deep to my chest.

  “Girlfriend?” I whispered, sitting up so quickly pain lanced across my ribs.

  He rose up on his elbow, grinning. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what guys call girls that they kiss and want to do other things with...” His gaze became heavy hooded. “Girlfriend.”

  Oh my God.

  How...how could I be doing this right now, lying in bed with him, making out and experiencing all of this, when Megan was just buried and she was dead because I didn’t...I didn’t do enough to stop what happened?

  I wanted to peel my own skin off, because I’d never felt more gross, more selfish, than I did right then in my entire life. “No.”

  The playful grin slipped from his striking, almost too-beautiful face. “What?”

  Pushing off the bed, I stood and backed away. “I can’t... I can’t be your girlfriend.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sebastian stared at me like I’d spoken in tongues. “Okay,” he said finally. “Maybe I should’ve asked you first. I might’ve gotten a little ahead of myself—”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask someone if they want to be your girlfriend.”

  The corner of his lips quirked. “Will you be my girlfriend, Lena?” he asked in a sweet, teasing way.

  My heart leaped in my chest like it was jumping on a trampoline. How long had I waited to hear that question? Years. Honest to God, years. And now he was asking, after everything that had happened?

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t what?”

  “I can’t be your girlfriend.”

  For a moment Sebastian didn’t move, and then he sat up in one quick fluid move. “Are you being serious?”

  “Yes.” I walked around the bed, knocking a strand of hair out of my face. I threw open the balcony door and stepped outside, welcoming the chilly breeze. I walked to the railing, squeezing my eyes shut when I heard his footsteps behind me.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m so confused right now. You can’t be my girlfriend?” When I didn’t answer, he moved to stand beside me. “Is there someone else?”

  “What?” I almost had to laugh. “No. There’s no one else.”

  “Are you planning to leave tomorrow and never see me again?”

  “No,” I said, frowning.

  “Then why can’t we be together?” He angled his body toward mine. “What just happened in there tells me that you’re interested—that you feel the same way. The way you touched me last week... How mad you got when you thought I was going to kiss you but threw you in the pool... You don’t feel like that unless you want that person.” His hand touched my lower back, and I fought the urge to lean into him. “Unless...unless it’s just about feeling good? Is that all you want out of this?”

  I could’ve said yes because that would’ve shut this whole conversation down, but I didn’t. “No. It’s not about that.”

  “Then what is this about?”

  Running my hand over my cast, I couldn’t believe I had to really explain this. “It just doesn’t feel right. We get to move on and be happy? This soon?”

  Sebastian was quiet for a moment. “But that’s...that’s life, Lena.”

  “Wow,” I muttered, floored.

  “What? Yeah, that sounded blunt as hell, but it’s the truth. You can’t stop living just because others...others died.”

  I understood that, but the thing was, he didn’t get it. What I felt wasn’t just survivor’s guilt. I felt more rancid. More bitter. “It’s not that easy.”

  “Yes.” He curled his hand around my chin, bringing my gaze to his. “Yes, it is, Lena.”

  Exhaling roughly, I pulled away and stepped back. “You don’t get it.”

  “You keep saying that.” Frustration flared in his voice as he stared at me. “And I’m trying to get everything. To understand. To be patient. To be there for you. But you aren’t talking about anything going on in your head. Not really. And you keep forgetting that I’m going through this right beside you. I know how you feel.”

  I snapped my mouth shut as I crossed my arms.

  “What happened to our friends was a huge wake-up call for me. As cheesy as it sounds, there’s no guarantee on tomorrow, or next year—”

  “You tell me I need to move on! That I need to just deal with—”

  “That’s not what I’m saying! Not at all.”

  “You don’t have to say it in those exact words, but the meaning is the same.”

  “Lena—”

  “Oh my God, are you kidding me?” My voice was nearing code-red shrill level. “You’re standing here like you’re now doing everything you want to do, because you have this whole new outlook on life, and that’s crap. You know that’s crap.”

  “That’s not crap.” His voice was low.

  “You don’t want to play ball anymore, Sebastian. Right? You told me you don’t want to do it.”

  His back went ramrod straight.

  “What about that?” My hand curled into a fist. “You don’t want to play football, but I bet a year from now you’ll be doing it at college just because you don’t want to face your dad. So don’t stand there and act like you’ve changed so much since this accident, and grown so much, and faced all your problems head-on.”

  He lifted his head and a moment passed as if he was trying to collect himself.

  “This isn’t about football. This is about us.”

  “How can you even be thinking about us right now?” I demanded. “Our friends are dead. They just died. They’re not coming back, and all you care about is getting laid—” I sucked in a sharp breath.

  The moment I said it, I wanted to take it back. I’d gone too far.

  Sebastian’s eyes flared with shock and then his jaw locked down. “I can’t believe you said that to me. I really can’t.”

  I couldn’t either. I really couldn’t.

  Swallowing around the knot in my throat, I willed my heart to slow down. “Sebastian, I just—”

  “No.” He held up his hand. “I’m going to unpack that stateme
nt for you real quick. And you’re going to stand there and listen.”

  Closing my mouth, I stood there. And I listened.

  “Our friends are dead. Yes. Thank you for reminding me that I lost three of my closest friends and almost lost my best friend—the girl I fucking love. I’m not trying to spend every waking moment thinking about it like you...and you know what? That doesn’t make me a terrible person. None of them would’ve wanted that from us. Not even Cody, with his ego.” He took a step toward me. “Their deaths do not mean that I die alongside them, or that I put my entire life on hold. Yeah, it’s only been about a month and no one—no one—is expecting anyone to just get over it. But living your life and loving someone is not getting over it. That doesn’t mean anyone is forgetting them. I can live my life and still mourn them.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he wasn’t done.

  “And how dare you insinuate that I don’t care about them or that I don’t think about them every damn day. What we were doing in there—” he gestured at the door “—it isn’t a disrespect to them. And you know what, I am partially at fault for this. Obviously you’re not ready for this. You’re not in the right headspace and I thought that... I don’t even know anymore, but I sincerely apologize for that. I’m sorry.” His voice turned hoarse as he thrust a hand through his hair. “What I feel for you, what we were doing in there, what I want to do to you is not about getting laid, and I...I can’t believe you would even think that about me.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the building tears.

  “I’m not sure you can blame grief for that,” he said, and I felt my heart crack. “Because no matter what has happened, no matter what is going on in our lives, you should know me better than that.”

  Those tears burned and no matter how hard I tried, the tears snuck through. I lifted my hand to wipe at them. I stood for several moments before I opened my eyes.

  Sebastian was gone.

  I hadn’t even heard him leave.

  It was almost like he hadn’t even been there.

  * * *

  I didn’t go to school on Tuesday.

  In the morning I told Mom I wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t ask the reasons why, which was good, because there were plenty. I had no idea if Sebastian had shown up to drive me to school. I’d turned my phone off, not wanting to deal with the world. Wanting nothing more than to hide.

  If Sebastian never spoke to me again, I wouldn’t blame him.

  Staring up at the map above my desk, I knew I’d created a mess out of things with him. I wasn’t being honest or open, telling him what I really felt or why my guilt was different from his. I wasn’t being honest or up front with anyone, and I was a coward because of that.

  I was just like my dad.

  But I didn’t want to be, so I lay there for hours thinking about everything.

  It was a little after one o’clock when I heard my mom coming up the stairs. “I wanted to check on you,” she said as she entered. “You obviously have your phone turned off and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Sorry,” I murmured from my pathetic prone position on the bed.

  “Where is your phone?”

  I gestured at my desk with a limp hand and watched Mom walk over and pick it up. She turned it on and tossed it on the bed by my legs.

  “When you’re not feeling well and staying home, you will never turn your phone off again. I have to be able to reach you.” Her voice was stern, and her eyes sharp. “Do you understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her shoulders tensed as she crossed her arms. “Lena, I know why you didn’t go to school today.”

  “Mom,” I groaned, rubbing my hand down my face. She probably thought I was ticked off about everything with Dad, though I still wasn’t sure what to think about that.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “Sebastian stopped by this morning to take you to school. He looked like he had very little sleep last night and didn’t seem surprised when I said you were feeling unwell.”

  My stupid heart swelled. He’d still shown up to take me to school even after I really, truly insulted him.

  There was a pause. “Do you think I don’t know Sebastian comes over every night?”

  I covered my eyes with my hand.

  “You two try to be quiet, but I can hear you talking sometimes. I haven’t said anything because I think you need your friends right now, especially when I haven’t seen much of Dary or Abbi,” she explained. “And because I trust Sebastian.”

  I wanted to hide under the bed. “I trust you to make smart choices when it comes to Sebastian,” she added, and I wasn’t sure I believed her, because, truth be told, I obviously sucked at making good choices. “But I heard some of your conversation last night.”

  Oh God.

  I winced.

  “Lena,” she said with a sigh. “The boy has cared about you from the first day he came over here, asking if you wanted to ride bikes.”

  “I know, Mom.” I lowered my hand to the bed and looked at her. I’d done a lot of thinking as I lay in bed all morning. “I think... I think he does love me,” I whispered, my lip trembling. “Like really love me, and I...I don’t know if I’m ready for that now. I mean, I am. I’ve been waiting forever for him...but it all feels wrong now.”

  “Honey.” Her breath was shaky as she leaned over me, clasping my hand. “You’re going through a lot right now. And I know it’s not just Sebastian. Coach Rogers called me this morning. He told me you quit the team.”

  “It just...wasn’t what I wanted to do anymore.”

  “Is that the same way you feel about Sebastian?”

  “It’s not that. Not really. I just...don’t deserve him...deserve this.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  I shifted my gaze back to the map before looking back to her. “You know why.”

  Her eyes widened and shimmered with tears. “Oh, baby, don’t say that. You do deserve happiness and a future and everything you’ve ever wanted. That one night is not going to define your whole life.”

  “But it defined Megan’s and the others’,” I argued. “When people talk about Cody, it will always be overshadowed by what he did. The same with Chris and with Phillip.” And it would be the same about me, if everyone knew.

  Mom squeezed my hand, and I could tell by the stricken look on her face that she had no idea what to say to me.

  I pulled my hand free and sat up a little. “I just want to go back to that night and do things differently. I was being so stupid, obsessing over such stupid things. Everything I worried about before seems so pointless now.”

  “Baby, nothing you worried about before was pointless.” Mom squeezed my hand again. “You’re just looking at things differently now.”

  * * *

  On Wednesday morning, Sebastian drove me to school. The ride was silent and awkward, and I couldn’t do it again. I had to try to catch a ride with Dary after school, and tomorrow, I decided, I needed to do it myself. Needed to get behind the wheel of my own car.

  To drive myself.

  To take care of myself.

  But as I walked from my locker to the administrative offices, I wasn’t thinking about Sebastian or our fight or what Mom had admitted to. I knew what was expected from me in the next thirty minutes.

  I was going to have to really talk today. I had to, because I needed to get it off my chest. I needed to say something, and I didn’t know if it would change anything or make it better or worse when it was all said and done, but I just needed to tell someone in my own words.

  My hands were shaking when I walked into the tiny room. The stupid posters were a blur. Dr. Perry was at the table waiting for me, a new coffee mug in front of him, but I was too nervous to read