Page 8 of Just Breathe


  “Oh fuck, Sav. What’s wrong? Come on, let’s get you off the floor.”

  Tate.

  His deep voice was laced with concern and his eyes flickered with worry and nervousness. I looked up at him with hooded eyes as fresh tears spilled over my cheeks. I could feel my body shaking violently. I knew I looked weak; I could see in the way he was looking at me that I wasn’t looking anything like the Savannah he knew. He was looking at me with pity.

  I huddled into his chest in a feeble attempt to feel a comfort I so desperately craved, and right now, he was here in my apartment and was willing to give it to me. Tate was the one I was so desperately trying to fight, but as he cradled me in his arms, the possibility that he could be the one to save me awoke within me.

  “I don’t deserve to have you help me. Look at what I did in the pool yesterday. I screw everything up.” I sobbed, my mascara tears staining his hoodie.

  “Hey, hey, come on. I’m here.” Tate cupped my cheek and pulled my face away from his chest. His thumbs swiped under my eyes, wiping away the tears running over my red cheeks. I looked up into his deep blue eyes and sighed. His eyes were glimmering with worry and concern for me. He wasn’t expecting to find this when he opened my door. Why had he come here anyway?

  “How did you get in?” I choked out.

  “The door was unlocked. I wanted to sneak in and put those on your kitchen table.” He pointed toward a bunch of beautifully colored roses that were lying on my bench.

  “You bought me flowers?” I whispered in awe.

  “It’s a big night for you. I can be a sweet guy when I want. There is a heart under here somewhere. You did good today, Sav, and a pretty girl deserves flower,” he said with a sweet smile.

  He placed me softly on the couch and I couldn’t stop myself from crawling into his lap and huddling closely to his body. Tate didn’t back away from me. He ran his fingers through my hair in a silent comfort. The way his arms were cradling me and the sensation of his fingers running through my hair started to soothe me. I was softly sobbing into his shirt and clutching tightly to the thin material covering his body. I couldn’t stop crying. I hated it.

  “Tanzi, you’ve got to come to Sav’s. Something’s wrong,” Tate begged on the phone.

  Within seconds, Tanzi was by my side and had released me from Tate’s comforting arms. It’s like she knew what I needed and she knew I didn’t need to talk. She didn’t leave my side and she also didn’t push for an answer. Her eyes focused on me and watched me closely in fear that the crazy girl would reappear. I knew she and Tate would ask me questions, and they had every right to. Tate had silently slipped out my door and left me in Tanzi’s hands. My sobbing had ceased and I was now finally able to function as the panic left my body.

  “You ready to get dressed and beautiful for tonight?”

  “Are my eyes puffy?” I asked softly, afraid to look in the mirror.

  “You look gorgeous. We can blame any puffiness on lack of sleep. Mr. Davenport has a lot of explaining to do.” Tanzi winked at me and pulled me toward the bathroom.

  Tanzi stood beside me in the bathroom as we both applied our makeup. The silence was saturating.

  “You want me to braid your hair?” Tanzi asked gently.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that, Tanzi. I promise I’m not some crazy girl. I just have a lot of baggage that comes with being Savannah Rae, and today my baggage decided to reappear.”

  I slipped into my dress and instantly felt my spirits lift. It was a deep red, fitting close to my body, and skimmed my knees. The heart-shaped neckline accentuated my cleavage and it made me feel so beautiful.

  “Fuck, you are a heartbreaker,” Tanzi hooted as we stepped out into the hall and headed to the magazine launch. I plastered a smile on my face and tried to push aside the cloud that was hanging over me.

  “I’m glad you find me so highly irresistible. If only I liked chicks.” I winked at my friend and we laughed loudly. She was like my personal mood lifter. Somewhere in my life plan I was meant to meet this girl, and it was becoming clear that I was meant to meet her right at this time of my life.

  I lost my breath the moment I stepped into Red Velvet. The fairy lights were the first thing that caught my attention. The way they twinkled above me took me back to nights spent on the beach back home in Australia. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the painful memories taking over; I couldn’t let anything else destroy tonight.

  “Sav, this is amazing. Consider yourself getting a raise,” Mr. Davenport said as he floated past me with champagne in hand and the Paris editor of Beautify Magazine closely following him. I was pulled in all directions by people congratulating me and telling me how amazing this looked. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.

  The evening went off without a hitch. I was having fun with my friends, the free champagne was flowing and thankfully, Tyson had the same idea as me and had stayed away from me all night but I could still feel his eyes on me. I couldn’t stop thinking about Corey’s mum’s email though, and the way I reacted to it. I showed Tanzi and Tate a side of me that I wasn’t ready to put on display. I suddenly felt exposed. Tanzi and Jack were being overly protective of me, and one of them had stayed by my side all night. It was reassuring.

  “You do realize since you are now family with Tanzi, Tate, Lucas and me that we are going to be way too protective of you and probably annoy the shit out of you?” Jack mused beside me, draping his arm over my shoulders.

  “I don’t think I signed up for that when I moved to L.A.,” I said with a giggle. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just make sure you keep making me spaghetti and we have a deal.”

  “Tate’s here,” Tanzi whispered in my ear. I felt myself stiffen at the sound of his name.

  My eyes feverishly scanned the crowd until they locked on him. I felt like I was going to explode right there in the middle of Red Velvet as my eyes lingered over him. He was strolling through the crowd with a confidence that couldn’t be matched—dressed head to toe in a midnight black suit with the top button of his crisp red shirt open. He wore no tie and he looked devilishly divine. Oh, sweet mother of god I was in trouble! I watched as he shook hands with Mr. Davenport and it hit me that I had no idea how they even knew each other.

  They turned their attention to where Tanzi and I were standing, and I held my breath as Mr. Davenport pointed to us. Goosebumps grazed my arms as Tate looked at me from across the room, a panty-dropping smile graced his lips but there was softness in his eyes I had never seen before. Tate moved through the crowd smoothly, causing every single girl in his path to stop mid-sentence to gawk at him. I couldn’t blame them. My body was aching for him but it was different now. I saw a side of him only hours ago that was making me look at him so differently. He was arrogant and stubborn, but as he held me he looked scared; he was panicked and he was so protective.

  Tanzi grabbed my hand and pulled me toward our seats, as the fashion show was due to start. As if the world was trying to punish me, my seat was directly opposite Tate and his eyes never left me. He was looking at me without any discretion. He wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to devour me; he was looking at me like he wanted to protect me.

  I placed my clutch on my lap and turned my attention to Lucas as he sat beside me and listened intently as he began telling me about his move from San Fran, where he was going to college, where he was living and what he wanted to do in Los Angeles. We were very much in the same situation, and I knew it would be nice to have a friend I could experience Los Angeles with. He was incredibly attractive, like whoa attractive, and Savannah of recent history would have taken him to the back room and completely given herself to him. But now all I wanted was to be his friend—that shocked me to the core.

  My phone suddenly buzzed in my lap and an instant heat flushed my cheeks when I saw the name.

  Tate: Are you okay?

  Me: Yes, I’m sorry you had to see me like that.

  Tate: You don’t need to apo
logize to me.

  Tate: You look incredibly gorgeous tonight. Red is definitely your color.

  My heart rate accelerated. I raised my eyes looking toward Tate, whose searing eyes were burning into mine in a way that set every inch of me on fire. He was smirking, that damn gorgeous smirk. With shaking hands, I tapped in my reply.

  Me: Thank you. I’m sure you will enjoy the many female models on display tonight. Maybe your office will get another workout.

  I watched him closely as he read my reply, the smirk never leaving his face. He looked up at me and cocked his eyebrow. It was heart-crushingly sexy. My phone beeped. Dropping my eyes, I was nervous about his reply.

  Tate: My office is closed to all visitors. I don’t need models when there are stunning ladies in red in my sight.

  I swallowed hard. He was flirting with me. My heart and mind went into battle with each other. This was Tate the guy I had seen with at least three women since I had moved here…fuck, I had only been here for a week. But he was also the guy who had come to my heroic rescue and showed me a side of him I didn’t think existed. The problem? He was still Tanzi’s brother.

  I put my phone in my clutch and thanked the heavens above when the lights dimmed and the fashion show started. I knew his eyes never waned from me, and secretly mine were lingering over the catwalk at him. I wouldn’t even know what the models were wearing.

  “Let’s get a drink. You must be parched after being under the watchful eye of Tate all night.” Lucas laughed beside me as lights flooded Red Velvet when the fashion show came to an end. I looked at him and blushed.

  “You are an idiot.” I giggled as he pulled me toward the bar.

  As I stood beside Lucas at the bar, I finally felt like I could begin to relax. Trent, the somewhat overly-friendly bartender, brought me a Long Island Iced Tea, which instantly soothed my anxiety.

  The moment my favorite cocktail hit my lips, I felt relief sweep through my body. Lucas chatted about his opinion on Los Angeles girls compared to San Francisco girls, and I was doing the same about Australian guys and American guys. It was too funny.

  “FIGHT!”

  Someone yelled over the music and the bar went from high class magazine launch to underground fight club. I watched in horror as the crowd surged toward the DJ booth, pushing chairs and tables out of the way. Grabbing Lucas’ hand, I rushed through the mass of people toward the DJ booth, not knowing what to expect. I gasped in horror as I watched Tate and Tyson bashing the living daylights out of each other. Punches were flying as insults were being spat.

  “You do not say shit about her. Do you hear me? You do not say shit about her!” Tate shouted as his fist connected with Tyson’s cheek, splitting his skin.

  My stomach dropped when I saw Tyson’s fist connect with Tate’s brow, causing blood to cascade down his face. Tyson didn’t look like a gorgeous model anymore. His cheek was split and his eye was swelling rapidly. I cringed every time the sound of bare fists connected to skin and I couldn’t handle it any longer. Dropping Lucas’ hand, I rushed toward the scene. I could hear him calling my name, but I had to get there. I needed to get Tate away from this. It was my time to help him.

  “Tate! Stop it. Tate!” I yelled only a meter away from him. I needed to get him away from this. His face rose at the sound of my voice and he searched for me before his eyes locked on mine. As if my voice somehow made him halt, he stared at me and time felt like it stopped. What was barely a second felt like an hour. He dropped his gaze from mine, but not before I noticed shame flash over his face.

  I grabbed at Tate with all the strength I could muster and caught the back of his shirt. I pulled him off Tyson, who was paid to look gorgeous but now was looking like a beaten mess. He clutched at his bleeding cheek and kept spitting insults at Tate, which only infuriated Tate. I jolted back as Tate attempted to lurch at Tyson.

  I clutched Tate’s blood-splattered shirt and pulled him back toward me with all my strength. His eyes were everywhere but mine, and he began twisting beneath my grip in an attempt to get away from me. Fire was swarming through his eyes as he muttered under his breath; his breathing was heavy and jagged and the muscles in his arms and back were clenched tight, as if he was fighting every emotion not to rush back and finish off Tyson.

  As I pulled him through the crowd, people patted him on the back, congratulating him for fighting with a pretty boy, while others simply stepped away from the irate man who looked like he would take on everyone in the bar if he had the chance. I opened the door to the empty restaurant and pushed him inside.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked both angry and concerned. I placed my shaking hands on both sides of his face, giving him no choice but to look at me. I scanned his face and cringed at his cut lip and brow that was now gushing with blood. Our eyes connected and I searched his eyes for an answer but was greeted by an intense silence and the sense that he was closing himself off.

  “You know what, Savannah? I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing,” he muttered. “I haven’t had a fucking clue about anything since you arrived.” His eyes finally landed on mine and were swarming with confusion, anger and complete exhaustion.

  His face twisted with so much emotion. An awkward silence surrounded us as unasked questions, unresolved tension and a need to comfort him almost made me cave.

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I whispered, my breathing was weak. I took my hands from his face and grabbed his hand, hoping he would look at me. I didn’t want his eyes leaving mine.

  “You, it’s all you. Everything is you and it’s fucking with my head.” Whispering, he took a step away from me. “You know what, I can’t be here. I’m going home. Sorry for ruining your night.” He turned his back on me and walked out of the room with his head hung low and shoulders sinking.

  “Sav, where’s Tate? Is he okay?” Jack asked as he walked into the restaurant. He grabbed my hand and turned me toward him. His eyes were full of worry.

  “What the hell was that about? He just left.”

  Jack looked at me with shocked wide eyes. “You don’t know?” he stammered.

  “All I know is that I was talking to Lucas and then I look up and Tate is bashing the shit out of Tyson.”

  “The fucking pretty boy was saying shit about you. He was saying he was going to fuck you in the parking lot and that you were his meal ticket. Tate gave him what he deserved.”

  Tate was doing it again. He was showing me a side of him I never expected. He was protecting me and all I wanted to do was comfort him. He was attacking the walls I had put up with a sledgehammer and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  “He was defending you, Sav.” Jack smiled at me sadly before he made his way out of the bar.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tanzi and Tate’s apartment was in complete darkness. The only light in the apartment was the glow coming from under Tate’s bedroom door. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to say to him, but I knew I had to see him. He was the most infuriating person I had met but he was drawing me in and no matter how hard I was fighting, I felt myself being overcome by an addiction to him.

  Tanzi switched on the light to illuminate the kitchen and on the bench was a reminder of the night: a bottle of Jack Daniels surrounded by tissues saturated in Tate’s blood. Tanzi’s worry-filled eyes met mine; her twin was hurting and she looked shattered.

  “I’m going to see if he is all right. Are you okay?” I whispered and grabbed her hand softly. Tanzi nodded and I took hesitant steps down the hallway. I was breathing heavily as I stood in front of Tate’s bedroom door. I could hear the muffled sound of the television penetrating the door. I knocked lightly.

  Behind the closed door, Tate groaned. “Tanzi, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Tate, it’s me,” I whispered loud enough for him to hear. I waited for what felt like forever before the door slowly opened. My eyes travelled over Tate’s face and I cringed at what I saw. The cut above his eyebrow had stopp
ed bleeding but was covered in dried blood and his lip was swollen and the cut was still bleeding. He dropped his eyes and a look of embarrassment and shame filled his perfect face. In the craziness of this situation all I wanted to do was touch him, to provide him with comfort, to show him he was beautiful and to thank him for defending me.

  Raising his eyes to me, he finally spoke. “Hey.” I took a glance over his shoulder at his room. A pile of bloodied tissues and his discarded shirt were on the floor beside his bed, and his pillowcases were splattered by the blood from his open wounds.

  “Can I come in?” I asked softly, moving my eyes back to his.

  Tate took a step away from the door and rested his arm on the doorframe. I didn’t know whether it was an invite to step in or if he was doing it in defense.

  “I’m fine. You don’t need to be here.”

  “I’m not leaving you like this. Let me help you.” I shot him a stern look before I turned on my heel in search of a first aid kit. I searched the bathroom without any luck, finally finding the kit in the kitchen. I walked back to Tate’s room with the first aid kit in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

  Tate stood where I left him but was now looking absently at the television. His attention broke as I walked into his room and he watched me closely as I set the first aid kit on the bed and pulled the lid off the bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “Have a drink and sit on the bed. I’m going to clean you up,” I said as I opened the first aid kit and dropped my eyes. “I’m sorry I caused this.”

  Tate exhaled loudly and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  I inched toward him and wedged myself between his legs. I don’t know whether it was being this close to him, the awkward silence that was surrounding us or whether it was the fact that he had defended me, but I couldn’t keep my heart from racing. He was devastatingly inviting.

  My fingertips trailed softly over his face, running tenderly along his strong jawline and outlining his perfect lips. I lingered at the cut above his brow and he gasped under my touch and leaned against my hand. I dropped my eyes to his and found him watching me intently.