You learn a lot about a person by watching them with their family. By watching them handle the people they love most in the world, and how they deal with those people pushing their buttons. And watching Tate with Aiden had already taught me a few things since being picked up outside of the ramen shop...
One, Aiden wasn't the best at picking up on Tate's irritation levels. Two, Aiden was used to being the one in charge. And three, Tate who was normally very relaxed was just not having it that day.
"Things are just going to get more chaotic," Aiden was saying. "Cameras will be following her everywhere. Which means she will need a security team." The idea made me bristle. There was no way I was going to allow a bunch of bland, scary-looking morons to follow me around. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.
"Guards on both night shifts and day shifts. A total of four guards to be safe, especially since they are painting her as a villain."
I closed my eyes, trying to erase the new word added to my catalog. Villain.
"I will talk to Brandon—"
"Stop the car," Tate said, all attempt at humor gone.
Aiden stared at his cousin in the review mirror. "What?"
"That's when you pull the car towards the curb and stop."
Aiden narrowed his eyes, glaring at the road. "I know how stopping a car works, Tate."
"Then do it," Tate replied, through clenched teeth.
"There is no curb. We are on a bridge—"
"JUST. DO. IT," Tate growled.
I stared at Tate, wide-eyed. I had never heard him sound so angry before. The car screeched to an angry stop and Tate climbed out, pulling me out behind him. Then he leaned back into the car's back door. "Don't talk to Brandon. Don't make plans. Don't create security details. Just go home."
Then Tate slammed the door, glaring at the car as it drove off, daring it to challenge him.
We stood on a tiny sidewalk in the middle of a busy bridge in utter silence as cars roared past, kicking up wind in the setting sun. The scene pretty much described our day. Wild and unexpected with a pretty view thrown in. None of the cars seemed to care about the two battered humans standing on the sidewalk, and I wanted it to stay that way.
Tate sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he watched the car vanish into traffic. "I'm sorry about Aiden." He looked unraveled by the exchange as he rocked back on his heels, turning to look at me. "Are you okay?"
That was a loaded question. One I wasn't ready to answer on a busy bridge in the middle of heavy traffic. If I thought about it, things would only get worse.
"Let's skip that question for now." I took in Tate, who had been angry enough to demand to be let out on the middle of a bridge, who looked breathtaking as the afternoon sun carved into his features, highlighting how deeply today had hurt him. It made my chest ache. And I suddenly and desperately wanted to make it all go away. To wash the distress from his brow, from his shoulders, from his hands, from every part of him that looked ready to explode with unexpressed emotions.
"Are you okay?" I echoed, needing a moment to not process my own thoughts. It was exhausting hanging out in my own mind. I needed a break. I needed to think about someone else, anything else. Anything to help me not fall down the rabbit hole of panic that was bound to take me at some point soon.
Tate walked over to the bridge railing and leaned against it, looking exhausted. "Yes and no."
I laughed hollowly, joining him. "Fair answer."
"He's just..." Tate stopped. And I could see that he was trying to find a kind way of expressing his frustration.
"No need to filter. Shoot."
"He was trying to help, but..." he trailed off again.
"You are filtering Tate. I was in the car with him too. Get it off your chest."
He closed his eyes for a second. "He was being a pain in the ass!"
I started laughing, amused by how his face scrunched up when he was trying to say something mean about his cousin. It was adorable and hilarious. "Anything else?" I asked, trying to stop my laughter.
"YES!" Tate gripped the railing, knuckles going white. His hair was brushed out of his face by the breeze as he stared out at the Los Angeles River. "You would think he could stop glaring at us long enough to make sure we were actually okay. BUT NOOOO! He decided a good lecture before hiding you behind a bunch of bodyguards was the way to go! It's a miracle that he doesn't terrify everyone in his path!"
I offered him a sad smile. "Well, he did ask if we were okay before he launched into his monologue. Maybe that counts for something?"
Tate leveled me with a look. "Hardly."
We watched the sun set the river on fire as it was consumed by the water, slowly settling below the horizon. Then we walked back towards my apartment, both quiet as the shadows began to eat away at the failing light.
"So..." I began once my thoughts returned to our train wreck of a day. "...does he always try to hide people behind a security detail?" I asked.
Tate shook his head. "Paparazzi is a sensitive spot for Aiden. Laliana nearly got killed when she began to grow in popularity. I think he just got a little freaked about you getting hurt."
I kicked a pebble out of my path, snorting. "No offense, but Aiden doesn't care about my well-being."
Tate tried to interrupt, but I shook my head. "I won't cry over it. Trust me, it doesn't matter that he doesn't like me. I'm not his biggest fan either. That's not the point—"
"Then what is the point?" he asked, seeming almost alarmed by the idea of Aiden not liking me or vise versa. Tate must not have been used to people not liking each other. But I was very accustomed to people hating me. I wasn't the most likable person. My mind moved back to the headline...Trading Down? Why Tate is Making a Mistake by Choosing Allie Winters
"The point is..." I replied softly, taking his hands and doing my best to keep my sanity in check. It was getting harder to push away today's harsh words. "If he is suggesting I get a bunch of security, then it's because he loves you. And even if his way of showing it is pretty bad... try to keep that in mind."
I tucked my hands into my pockets, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "I get the impression that he thinks like I do. Actions are our strength. Try to look at those more than his terrible word choices."
He offered me a soft smile. "Your words are pretty good too Allie."
I shook my head, not wanting to think about myself or anything that had happened today.
Mistake... mistake... mistake... continued to ring through me, and I grew quiet as the silent, internal chant threatened to pull me under.
Tate followed me inside my apartment, unusually quiet after I had ruined all of his attempts to talk about what had happened at the ramen shop. Between his terrible introduction to my ex-boyfriend and our very awkward car ride with his cousin, the day had been a disaster. A great introduction to Tate's family...
My brain was still in a whirl of thoughts as I unlocked the door, chaos attempting to drown me in images and quotes that I couldn't shake. Flashes of Tate's face as he tried to attack Ashton. Tate wincing in pain because he tried to defend me. Tate suddenly gaining fame in a wild frenzy because my life was chaos. I was a disaster human. I was—
"Allie," Tate said from the doorway. I turned around and realized he hadn't come inside, almost uncertain if he was welcome.
I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter and moved to the freezer. "I'm getting you an ice pack," I replied, scooping ice into a plastic bag. Why am I always prepping ice packs around this guy? And why is one of us always accidentally punching the other in the face?
"I can practically hear your brain freaking out from over here."
I didn't like how well he had learned to read me. I wanted to question everything without him adding to my freak out by seeing too much of me. "I'm fine Tate," I said walking back and handing him an ice pack.
I turned away, intent on staying busy. I dropped the food outside of Ramen Mania. Tate is probably still hungry. I should make food—
Tate gently grabbed my wrist pulling me to a stop as I moved away. "Allie."
I froze, eyes on the fridge. Thinking. Do I even have anything here for him to eat? I promised him a meal... and I have zero ingredients. I should go to the store.
"Look at me," Tate whispered.
I shook off his grip and walked into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I crouched, scanning the bare shelves. I spotted a jar of spaghetti sauce, ground turkey and pulled out a box of uncooked pasta.
I began to fill a pot with water. "How does spaghetti sound?" I asked, eyes focused on the water.
"Can you stop for a second?" Tate asked, his voice close. He stood on the other side of the counter, watching me with a concerned expression. I continued to look down at the pot filling with water like it was a lifeline.
"No," I replied shutting off the water and moving the pot over to the stovetop.
"Why not?" he asked, voice gentle. Too gentle. Like he was worried that if he spoke any louder, I would shatter into a million pieces.
Will I?
"Because..." I said vaguely, dropping the pot onto the stovetop and turning on the burner.
"Because?" Tate pressed.
I sighed, quickly running out of things to keep me busy. Running out of ways to avoid him. "Because if I stop doing things I'll think too much."
I pulled out the pasta strainer and left it in the sink. "Pasta yes, or no? Because I can order something if you want something else. I didn't have time to pick up any ingredients," I said with a wave of my hands before walking back over to the stovetop and placing a skillet onto another burner. "I should have done that. I know I said I would cook you a good meal."
"I don't care about food right now," Tate said quietly.
My heart squeezed tight as more words cracked through me. My fault. Mistake. He chose wrong. Too broken. Villain.
I tried to laugh, but the lump in my throat made it sound more like a choking sound. I dropped the ground turkey onto the greased-up skillet, before sparking the next burner to life. "Wow. That's a first, you feeling okay?"
"Allie."
"Not right now Tate," I replied, placing a lid on the ground turkey before dumping the box of spaghetti noodles into the boiling pot of water.
"I think now is the perfect time. You've just run out of things to do."
I swore internally. He was right. The next step was waiting for the food to cook. I had run out of excuses to avoid looking at him. To avoid talking to him. Crap. I should have moved slower.
I turned to look at him. "What's up?" I asked and nearly cringed at my word choice.
It was painfully obvious that something was wrong when someone replied with what's up. It was like declaring HEY, I AM GOING TO PRETEND THAT I AM JUST TUNING INTO THIS CONVERSATION AND TOTALLY NOT AVOIDING OR IGNORING THE PERSON THAT I HAVE IN FACT BEEN TALKING TO.
Tate raised a brow. "Woooow. That was real smooth."
"Well, I'm not known for being eloquent," I muttered. "I'm someone who is better at getting her point across with her fists. Apparently, I am a mistake."
Tate sighed, frustration and concern crossing his expression. "Ignore the article. Anything that bright pink is hiding something."
I smiled weekly, trying to brush it off. But the article title burned bright with its ugly neon pink coloring and word choice. Trading down? Why Tate is making a mistake by choosing Allie Winters.
He held out his ice pack. "You should ice your face."
Placing it against my nose, I sucked in a breath, the pain blinding for a moment. Guilt crossed Tate's features, washing away his frustrated expression. "I'm so sorry Allie," he whispered quietly.
"Why did you try and punch him, Tate?" I asked, taking in the cuts and bruises on his face. The question came across as accusatory, which was wrong. I was mad at myself, but I couldn't seem to get my vocal cords to express themselves in anything other than angry tones.
He crossed his arms, eyes growing dark. "Because Ash Face hurts people. I couldn't just sit there and let him hurt you anymore, Allie."
His kindness hurt. His protectiveness hurt. And his willingness to fight someone for me ripped at my insides. But I am a mistake that is not worth making...
I looked away. "I asked you not to fight my battles. It wasn't your fight Tate."
"When it comes to you, it is my fight. I care about you."
I continued to stare at the counter, trying to ignore how scary those words were. "But I am sorry about hurting you, Allie. I had no idea you could move that fast."
I smiled slightly. "It's not your fault," I replied, walking around the counter.
I pushed myself up onto the edge of the counter, sitting next to where Tate stood, intent on keeping the peace. "He's almost impossible not to smack. They should print his face on punching bags."
Tate sighed, running both hands through his hair. "Well you asked me not to and I just—"
"He makes it incredibly hard not to pummel him like a piñata. He learns the deepest truths you try to hide and just—"
Tate's eyes snapped to mine. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. No. He lies, Allie."
I shook my head. The feeling of drowning was back. "No, Tate. He knows me."
Tate pulled my hands into his, uncurling my fingers. I hadn't even realized I was digging my nails into my palms until he weaved his fingers with mine, giving them a tender squeeze. "Allie, you are not too broken."
"Tate," I whispered, trying to pull my hands away as he tried to undo Ashton's words.
He shook his head, eyes steady on mine. "You are loyal." He lifted our joined fingers and kissed my knuckles. I felt my resolve melt slightly.
"You are honest." He kissed my palms and my heart began to hammer wildly.
"You are strong." He kissed my wrists and my breath hitched.
"You are funny." He kissed my nose and I forgot to be afraid.
"You are smart." He kissed my eyelids and I forgot what Ashton had said.
"And even though you truly want to deny it, Allie Winters, you are incredibly worthy of love."
It was the word love that did it. The word snapped me out of the warm blanket of comfort that Tate had wrapped around me. I pushed against his chest, stopping him before he could kiss me again. His lips were too wonderfully distracting.
"Love is a weakness, Tate," I said, hands on his chest.
He shook his head, defiant, determination setting into every part of him. He stood taller, his eyes ablaze, stance unmoving. "Are you weak for loving your sisters?"
I shook my head instantly. They made me strong. They were my foundation, my everything. "No."
Tate took a step towards me, his hands caging me in as he placed them on either side of me on the counter where I sat. "When I am with you, do I look weak?"
I shook my head. Nothing about him was weak. "No but that's different, you don't love—" I stalled as panic set in, a small part of my brain processing the look on his face and realizing what he was saying. "You don't..." I blinked, several times, in an attempt to reboot my brain. "Oh my gosh... you don't... do you?"
"I don't what Allie?" Tate asked, staring at me with a dangerous look. A look that was daring me to ask the question about where he stood with me. Daring me to open a door that would change everything.
"I..." I shook my head, deciding to pretend that Tate wasn't playing with fire. Pretending that he wasn't on the verge of ruining everything by moving too fast. Pretending that by admitting something he wouldn't be able to take back, he wasn't going to terrify me to my very core.
"Love is a strength, Allie. It takes everything you have to open yourself up to someone and trust them with the most fragile parts of you."
"Yeah, and by doing so, you give them the power to tear you down and destroy you. Love is foolish. It's idiotic—"
"Is that what you think I will do to you?" Concern filled his deep green eyes, his hands resting gently on my knees. "What you think you will do to me?"
I swallowed, hating the conversation. Hating the truth behind my next words. "You might not think you will... But I know myself well enough to never assume I am incapable of hurting you, Tate. My track record is terrible." I pushed his hands off my knees and slid off the counter, moving several feet away to regain the ability to think clearly. I crossed my arms, feeling too open, too seen.
"That's why I don't want you to say how you feel. To declare something you won't be able to take back." My voice rose. "I don't want to break you! You move too fast and ask for too much Tate!"
He was making it impossible to process. I dropped my arms to my sides, finally looking back at him, smiling sadly. "You don't want to date me. I am a disaster human."
"Shouldn't it be my decision?" he asked. "You aren't—"
"I'm not good at relationships." I swallowed. "We went on one date and you got beat up over it."
We've only been on one date and he was willing to throw himself into danger for me. He likes me too much. I'm not ready. I can't catch up to where he is. I ran my fingers through my hair, scared. He loves me? The reality of it set into my bones. And my reaction was going to ruin everything. My panic was going to make him see how much of a disaster I was. Was going to prove something I truly wished was a lie.
I am unworthy of his love. I can't do this.
"I love kissing you," I said looking up at him, wondering for a brief moment if I could ask for something different. Something that wouldn't get either of our hearts shattered. "A physical relationship doesn't scare me. So if—"
Tate took a step back, shock registering on his face as a wild blush overtook his cheeks. "I'm sorry, but I don't do that. I'm not a one-night stand kind of guy or a friends with benefits kind of guy."
"What kind of guy are you?" I asked, fully aware of the answer.
"A forever kind of guy," Tate replied, recovering himself, and speaking with conviction that may as well have been carved in stone.
He walked towards me. "If you need me to hold you, I will." He cupped my face. "To listen, I will. To tell you every beautiful truth that you seem unwilling to accept about yourself, I will. But I can't give you myself physically." He shook his head. "Not when it means two very different things to each of us." He pressed his forehead to mine. "I don't want to risk being on your list of disasters Allie. I don't want to screw this up and I can't separate my heart from the physical."
I closed my eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of his forehead against mine. Taking a moment to enjoy the smell of him. Taking a moment to brace myself.
"My car is going to be done tomorrow..." I whispered.
I had gotten the message while we were in the car, racing away from the ramen shop. Another clue pulling me back towards true reality. One without him in it.
I felt Tate tense. But I continued, unable to look him in the eyes as I removed his hands from my face. "I don't do relationships, Tate. I thought that maybe..."
"Allie..." My name on his lips sounded broken. Strained, like a final breath before something bad happened.
I looked at him then, forcing out the words I should have said from the very beginning. Before I had been stupid enough to believe in fairy tales. "I can't do this Tate. I can't love you the way you deserve... and that isn't fair."
It was like the world froze. I could see it all over his face, the exact moment his heart shattered. Broken into beautiful tiny pieces at my words. And with that look, my worst fear came true. I had broken his heart. Proving how unworthy of love I was. I had proven Ashton right.
---
Thank you for reading chapter thirty! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
AH! Allie what are you doing to us?!? Why did she say that?
Is Tate going to be okay? Will they find a way back to each other?
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CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever rejected someone's affection for you? How did that go?