Page 13 of Only You

ELEVEN

I wish I could say that things haven’t been off since the night Tatum almost kissed me, but that’s just not how life works.

We still made a pie together, and even though it looked a little strange—Tatum’s large hands trying to pinch the crust in a beautiful pattern was kind of hilarious—it still tasted really good.

But there’s just this thing hanging there between us.

Maybe I should have just kissed him, but then where would it end?

The fact that he wanted to kiss me and seemed to have absolutely no qualms about always thinking he was straight and then suddenly being attracted to a man is enough to blow my mind.

But I know just one kiss with Tatum wouldn’t be enough. And I have the walls up that I do for a very specific reason. I can’t let them fall for anyone, not even him.

So where does that leave us? One ill-advised hookup where we both want more after.

We’d both get hurt. That’s what happens.

There’s no other outcome other than resentment and pain.

Whether I give in and hook up with him again or I don’t, leaving him hurt and confused, it doesn’t matter. It’ll be a disaster.

So I’ve done my best to keep my distance a little bit without pushing him away totally.

We still hang out, but I don’t snuggle up to him on the couch.

When I do a cooking lesson with him, I keep at least a foot in between us and try to not leave any moments of silence—it seems like those quiet moments are the ones where we both get a little lost there.

I lose direction quickly when I’m looking into his eyes, and I always feel myself drifting into him.

So I keep back.

Tonight, it’s actually a little easier because we’re having dinner with Tatum’s family. Phillip even prepared spaghetti with an option of no meat in the sauce, just for me.

It was so kind and thoughtful—the whole family seeming to just accept me into it right away. Like if Tatum cares about me, they do too. I’ve never had that before. Not once in my life. And I can see why Tatum is so protective of them.

I didn’t even know it could be possible for people like us. I have friends, sure—but even the best friends I’ve had don’t resemble a family like this one does. Though I can’t help but notice that there’s just something a little off about Raegan tonight.

I mean, she’s not normally overly talkative, but tonight, she won’t look anyone in the eye or respond when Phillip and Kellan try to ask her about anything. She just pushes her food around on her plate until she asks to be excused.

I can see the worry on almost everyone’s face when she gets up to leave, taking her still-full plate with her to the kitchen and then heading down the hall to her room.

“Has anything happened with that shithead?” Kellan is asking Cason as soon as Raegan’s door is closed.

Braylen’s attention is high now. “Ummm! You said a bad word.”

Kellan just snorts and apologizes, but Cason’s brow furrows, like he’s actually thinking pretty hard about it, but then he shakes his head. “No. Nothing.”

“Maybe she hasn’t told you,” Tatum says, concern dripping from his voice.

“She’d tell me, or I’d have seen it,” Cason says vehemently, but he doesn’t look so sure, and neither does anyone else at the table.

“Do you mind if I talk to her?” I ask cautiously, and all eyes are on me now, except Braylen’s and Kieran’s because they’ve both tuned out.

“You think she’ll talk to you?” Tatum asks, but it’s not like he doubts me. I hear more hope in his voice than I’d like because I don’t want to disappoint him.

“I’m not sure,” I start carefully. “She hasn’t before when I’ve talked to her at school.” But there’s something about the way she looked tonight—almost defeated. I can’t stand it.

I want to be able to get her to talk to me or to anyone. I know how dangerous it can be to hold everything in and push away the people you care about the most.

My eyes lock with Tatum’s, and I see a hint of understanding there before he turns to look at Phillip and Kellan, “What do you guys think?”

Kellan’s shoulders shrug, and he looks quite defeated at the moment. “I’ll try anything. She was doing so well. If that fucker did anything else...”

Braylen is all ready to jump on the language again when Phillip shakes his head in his direction and then places his hand over Kellan’s to stop his angry threat. Though no one here feels any sympathy for Blake.

Braylen shovels more food into his mouth, and Phillip offers his kind smile to me. “I think it’s worth a shot, but just know that Raegan is... ummmm.. ...”

“She’ll tear you apart,” Cason says, his glare on me. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Cason,” Kellan says with a warning, but I wave it off and wipe my mouth with a napkin before rising from the table.

“I’ll do my best.” I look over at Tatum with a nervous smile. “Chances are she won’t even answer the door.”

That gets varying replies, most just amused agreement before I walk down the hall like I’m on my way to an execution and quietly knock on Raegan’s door. It takes a while for her to answer through the closed door. “What?”

“Um, Raegan, it’s Remy. Can I speak to you for a moment?”

I’m pretty sure she’s just going to ignore me, but then the door cracks open just enough to see her face watching me with calculated curiosity—and maybe a hint of agitation. “What do you want?”

“Just want to talk,” I say, actually resisting the urge to raise my hands in some sort of surrender.

She huffs but pulls her door wide open and lets me walk inside her room. She keeps the door semi-open though as she makes her way back to her bed, and I don’t blame her.

Not one bit. She knows me as her principal, and she knows Tatum and I sort of grew up together, but she doesn’t trust me not to hurt her. And I get that.

I take a seat in her desk chair, keeping my distance. “Are you okay, Raegan?”

She just snorts at that but looks so small and vulnerable as she pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, facing me. “I’m fine. Did Tatum ask you to talk to me?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “I just care, like they all do, and you seemed a little quiet tonight.”

“So did you,” she says with a little venom. “What happened with you and Tatum? Because it’s pretty awkward.”

I try not to flinch because I know that’s what she wants. Cason and she have a lot in common. “Nothing happened with Tatum and me. We’re friends.”

“Just friends?” she asks, her right brow lifted.

“I’m not here to talk about Tatum,” I say, trying to keep that line.

“Right. No one wants to talk about their shit, but they expect me to just let it all out there.”

I realize I’m not her principal. We aren’t at school. She doesn’t need a principal with rules and carefully cultivated boundaries when it comes to his own past. She’s hurting. Something deeply traumatic happened to her, and she needs a friend.

“I’m here to listen to you, Raegan. And not to judge you. I don’t know any of the details of what happened with Blake, but I know he assaulted you. And I know it pisses me off that he got away with it.”

Her eyes are deadly as they lock on me, and I prepare myself to be torn apart. “He didn’t assault me. I broke his nose. If anything, I assaulted him, and I’m so tired of everyone treating me like a victim who’s going to break. I’m fine,” she snaps.

And God, how many times have I tried to convince myself I’m fine?

I remember saying that exact thing to Tatum and briefly close my eyes as the pain of that day washes over me.

When I open them again, Raegan is looking directly at me.

Studying me. “I said that too,” I say, the words scratching my throat on the way out, like they were trying to stay inside.

“What?” Her voice is quiet.

“I said I was fine. I pushed Tatum away when he tried to get me to talk to him. He was just trying to help me, but I didn’t want to talk.”

She shakes her head slowly, her hands dropping to her sides, but she doesn’t say anything, and I know if I want her to talk to me, I’m going to have to give her more.

“Sometimes the fear of what could happen to you is even worse than what did. It makes it hard to function. To breathe. To just walk around this scary-ass world every day.”

I notice her eyes widen a little bit. Clearly, I hit on something there. “I trusted him,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “I just don’t understand...”

“I know,” I say quietly.

“So did something worse happen to you than just the fear of what could happen?”

My mouth is dry, my hands the opposite. They’re sweating as my heart starts to race. “It went beyond fear. But...”

“But what?” she asks, her voice shaky but also a little impatient. Like she needs me to tell her or get out and just let her wallow in her own sadness. I know I can’t leave her to do that.

I’m the one who came to her. I started this. So I owe her an explanation.

“When I was in foster care, I was moved to this house that honestly seemed like a dream compared to the places I’d been before. It was this big, nice, clean house in a great neighborhood. The family wasn’t rich, but they seemed rich as hell to me.”

She nods her head, her lips thin as she seems to understand exactly what I mean. “It was a nightmare though.” Not a question. And my heart breaks because I know she knows exactly what houses that appear so wonderful can actually be.

“The couple who took me in—they were actually fairly nice. They wanted me to be a certain way. Cut my hair nicely and wear the clothes they bought me. Be their perfect little son. I didn’t really mind it so much—but they also had a biological son.

” My blood runs cold, and it takes everything in me to go on.

When I see the look on Raegan’s face though, I know she’s invested.

I know she already knows where this is going.

“He was older than me—in college. There were two other foster kids in the home. Both younger than me.”