Page 12 of You're To Blame 2

I stood on the hill next to Tate after Matt dropped me off at the lake house. “What do you want, Tate?”

“You.”

My entire body shook. Was the bullshit we’d gone through finally over?

“I’ve always wanted you. At my lowest point I wanted you. Sitting in the hospital waiting area, outside Mason’s room, I hated myself for yelling those evil words at you that day. You’re to blame.”

A single tear slid down my cheek. Tate was the boy I loved all along. Never Mason.

Tate admitted he never really walked away. “How could I honestly walk away and I just got you back?”

I knew if he could be here, he would. Tate wouldn’t turn his back on me. I had to believe that. I’d hold on to his words. ‘My love runs too deep for you.’

“Chelsea, Chelsea.” A strong hand shook my thigh.

“Chelsea, wake up.”

“Tate.” I smiled and my eyes fluttered open.

Our blue gazes locked. For a split second, I thought he was Tate. Then I jumped back as I quickly came to my senses.

His lips twisted. “What’s wrong?” his brow wrinkled.

“Nothing.”

“Why are you in here all alone? You never texted me once you arrived. I’ve been looking everywhere for you?”

Sure, you have, Mason. You weren’t looking for me while you were making a baby with Marisa.

“I think I drank too much.” I rubbed my temple.

“Probably should have stayed home. The Cross-Country race caught up with me,” I lied.

Mason dropped his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you to come out tonight.” He stood, stretching his hand out.

“I’ll take you home.”

I placed my hand in his. “Thanks.”

No calling Mason out. Why would I reveal my hand to my evil fiancé? I’d pretend everything was perfect.

We strolled into the house. How long was I asleep? My forehead creased. The dance floor brimmed with drunk kids bumping their bodies against each other.

“Tate, come here a sec.” Kyle motioned from the game room. “We need you to settle a disagreement.”

“Yeah, hang on.”

He glanced at me.

“Go ahead, I promise to wait in the atrium.”

He smiled and kissed my cheek.

“Coming through,” he shouted.

They parted the room like the red sea to allow their highness passage. King Tate. I chuckled inside as I continued on my path.

The loud music overflowed into the atrium. I sat on a slate gray bench near the stairs.

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