Chapter 29: Where We Left Off: Chapter 29

It’s only when I look up to see Mitch’s truck pulling around the corner that I realise where we are. My back is pressed up against the stone walls of Tate’s church. I’m supposing that he was looking for a little divine intervention tonight, but even as I stand with a tear-soaked cross digging into my chest I’m not so sure that that’s how it works.

Tate turns his head towards the familiar rumble of the engine and I can see that he’s scoping the cab interior, to ensure that Mitch is alone. Satisfied, he dips his head back down to mine, pressing a light kiss to the tip of my cheek as he hauls me up and around his waist. He walks us over to the truck and he opens the door to the backseat before setting me down and guiding me in by my hips. Once Tate closes the door he pulls me onto his lap and then straps us both under the belt. Mitch turns one-eighty so that he can get a look at us in the seat behind him. His eyes flick between us for a few seconds and then they finally settle on me.

“He’s gone, just so you know,” he says, and I let out a low whistle of relief, despite Tate growing tense beneath me. I don’t ever want to see Hudson again so I’m grateful that he’s gone – but the remembrance that he will forever be an eternal fixture in the life of Tate’s mom, and by extension the life of “This shit with your mom…” Mitch continues, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “Because you aren’t eighteen yet you don’t have much leeway in terms of independent choice. Your mom’s so livid that she wants you wholly moved out by tomorrow morning.”

Tate’s arms, which are wrapped firmly across my chest and stomach, tighten significantly. I feel like a child’s favourite toy as it’s being taken away from them, when their parents believe that it’s time to grow up.

“Not happening,” Tate bites, and his hands begin to clutch at places that are frankly inappropriate to have Mitch’s attention drawn to.

Mitch’s eyes flash to mine as if he’s thinking the exact same thing that I am, and he inhales sharply, turning around so that he doesn’t have to watch. He props one elbow on his doorframe as he wipes his other hand down his face. After a moment of torn contemplation Mitch twists the key in the ignition and kicks the car into gear.

Tate claps his palm over his dad’s shoulder rest and husks out in a gravelly voice, “I want you to take the long way home.”

Mitch snorts. “Ha. If you think that I’m gonna chauffeur you around so that you have enough time to get it inside of her then you’ve got “Then let me help her pack up her room,” Tate says.

Mitch breathes out another laugh. “Real subtle, Tate. You think that her mom isn’t going to be able to hear you cracking my walls when you’re ramming her headboard into them a mile a minute? Not to mention my house full of Tate’s breathing is so irregular that I’m actually worried for him. I turn my head so that I can look at him and his eyes have gone glassy. As soon as my mouth is in his proximity he takes my chin and lifts my lips to his, the hand in my lap suddenly stroking harder. The pained look on his face is splitting my heart irreparably. When he pulls away he holds my cheek against his chest and I can feel the quick thudding of his heartbeat as he mutters, “It’s not goodbye sex. I’m keeping her.”

A constricting ache grips at my temples and I push my forehead into his shirt.

Tate laces his fingers through my hair as he whispers, “I just got her back.”

Mitch lets out a loud exhalation through his nose as he drives down the street adjacent to his own, and I listen to the sound of him impatiently rapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Just before he reaches the corner he pulls up onto the curb and stops the truck.

Mitch clears his throat. “You all decent back there?”

It is all decent back here, which is surprising considering the thick slope that I can feel digging into my backside. As if he can read my mind Tate shifts beneath me, gripping his fingers into my hips, and then he rubs his way up and down my core. The spike in Tate’s adrenaline levels has made him rough and sloppy tonight, so much more out of control than he usually allows himself to be, and my body is burning up for it. I cover my mouth with my hand, too overwhelmed and confused to take arousal on top of all of my other emotions right now, and Tate buries his face into my hair with a groan.

Mitch gives us a few seconds and then he turns around. Whatever my expression is showing, he doesn’t comment. Instead he looks at me calmly and asks in a kind paternal Although we are all rampant with anxiety and high from the fight, the energy in Mitch’s truck – with the little orange interior light turned on and the merciful mist of heating coming through – is so warm and comforting that I can’t help but spill it all out to him. Tate’s heavenly temperate radiates from his chest into my back as his palms stroke up and down my arms. Mitch keeps one hand pressed over his mouth as I recount how Tate and I met, what subsequently happened with Hudson, and how we were both mislead by the fine points of the situation, only now having the reality of that day come to light. I’m surrounded by the undivided attention of the Coleson men and I have never felt so safe in my entire life.

When I finish Mitch interlocks the fingers of both of his hands and holds them palm-out to his forehead. He lets out a quiet gush of air and shakes his head, looking out of the side window as he gathers his thoughts.

It takes him a minute before he returns his gaze to mine. “Does she know?” he asks.

I blink. Too much has happened for me to know exactly what he’s talking about.

He spells it out for me. “It’s been a shit night, for you especially, but forget about your mom not wanting you to date outside of the Ivy League for a minute. Does she know about what happened with Hudson?”

I stare at him until he gathers my answer from the ringing silence.

He nods and then sighs. “If she doesn’t… you should tell her.”

Telling my mom the depth of my feelings for Tate Mitch gives me a sympathetic look. “You never know. It might change everything.”

He turns back around and we sit in silence for a minute, my body growing more and more weary as the weight of the night settles down on me. I recline sleepily into Tate’s chest, mentally and physically exhausted, and he silently kisses his way up my cheek. I’m embarrassed that even after seeing Hudson, who I would personally like to dismember, and after feeling the emotional severance with my mom, after her realising that I’m nothing more than a red-blooded teenager, I still want Tate. Part of me doesn’t care that I would have to endure Hudson for the rest of my life. I just want Tate.

As if he can sense the little flame rekindling in his backseat Mitch points his finger at Tate and then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Gotta get out, kid.”

Tate moves his fingers to my chin and tips my head towards him. The tenderness in his eyes makes me ache. “Just ’til you’re eighteen, right? Then I can come and get you.”

I duck my head down as the tears overspill. I feel his chest shake under my touch and that’s it. I’m falling into the most anguished pain that I have ever felt.

Mitch’s door opens with a click and, before he slams it shut, he says quietly, “Y’all have one minute and then she’s got to go, okay?”

I look up at Tate, glittery-eyed. “I have to think of my mom, Tate. And it’s not just that – it’s Hudson now, too. Now that he knows, he’s going to be everywhere. He’ll make my life hell, and I don’t want to go through that again.” I’m trying not to sound like I’m sobbing but it’s hard to keep it under control anymore.

Tate is shaking his head as he rubs the tears from my cheeks with the heels of his hands. “Stop thinking about everyone else, River – no one else matters. I want it to be you and me. If you move in with me after you graduate he’ll never know where you are. I’ll never let him near you again.”

“You can’t promise that,” I argue. “He’s in your mom’s life for good, and she doesn’t owe me anything.”

“If I told her what he did she would never let him in her house again.”

I shake my head. “If she loves his dad then this won’t change her mind.”

Tate’s grip on my face becomes more desperate as he tilts my head further back. “Forget about him. Tell me you’ll come back to me.” I try to hide my face but he isn’t having any of it, pressing his lips against mine and kissing me deeply. I pull away and shove at his heaving chest. He grabs my hand as I move to unfasten the seatbelt and he practically embeds it over his heart. “Goddammit River, tell me that you aren’t giving up on us.”

I don’t reply. He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a loud groan that’s as pained as it is angry.

He opens his eyes and cups his hands under my jaw. “Are you fucking serious?” he asks, his gentle voice contradicting the rage and the heartache in his words. His searing eyes search mine frantically. “I’ve wanted you for my entire life. I’ve been in I hold onto him for the remainder of our minute, but as soon as Mitch opens the door I wipe away my tears and leave.