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Saving Tatum (Trace + Olivia #4) Page 2

“I thought I was helping you with your paper, or have you changed your mind?” He scooted the chair back and propped his legs up on the table, crossing his hands behind his head. He was the picture of ease.

  “I wasn’t planning on working on it today.” I tapped my fingers against the wood table with irritation. I felt his eyes staring a hole into me. I wanted him to go away.

  “Come on, don’t be a party pooper. I’m on my way to the nursing home now.” He bumped my shoulder lightly with his hand and I flinched. “I don’t bite, Tate…” He lowered his feet and leaned towards me, his grin wicked, “unless you want me to.”

  “No, no, no, no way,” I stood, gathering my belongings. “I knew this was a bad idea. Forget I ever agreed to this. I don’t need your help. Not now, not ever.”

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to put up with Jude for an entire month. I’d have to come up with a new idea for my paper.

  Before he could reply, I hauled ass out of there.

  I heard his footsteps pounding behind me, but I refused to turn around and look at him.

  It didn’t take him long to catch up to me.

  His hand wrapped around my arm and he pulled me against his chest.

  “Let me go!” I cried, trying to wiggle free.

  His whole body pressed against mine and I didn’t like how good it felt. Jude was the last person on the planet who should turn me on.

  He released me and I whipped around to glare at him. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “What can I say? I’m very determined.” Crossing his arms over his chest, we ended up in a stare down. “I said I’d help you with your paper, and I intend to keep that promise.” Lowering his voice, he said, “I’ve never been able to figure out why you hate me so much.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The fact that you don’t know says a lot.”

  I started to walk away again, but he grabbed my arm to halt me.

  “Jude,” I warned, only he didn’t release me this time. He stepped up behind me, his long lean body adhering to my shadow.

  “Come on, Tatum,” his free hand skimmed over my shoulder, “you know you don’t want to change your project, just let me help you. Hell, you might even find that you actually like me.” His voice was low and coaxing.

  “Not likely,” I wrenched my arm from his hold. Taking several deep breaths, I tried to calm myself down. Realistically, I needed Jude’s help with this, and being stubborn would get me nowhere. Squaring my shoulders, I did the responsible thing. “Thank you for offering to help me with this. I know you didn’t have to.” Tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ear I mumbled reluctantly, “I’d be happy to accompany you to the nursing home.”

  “Good,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with victory. “By the way, I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to be nice and all, but drop the formalities. It’s weird.”

  He reached for my hand and started pulling me along.

  “Whoa buddy,” I dug my heels into the sidewalk, “where do you think you’re dragging me off to?”

  “My truck,” he looked at me like I was stupid.

  “I can follow you,” I declared.

  “I veto that idea.” He stared me down. Jude could be intimidating when he wanted to, but I was not one to cower. Life had been cruel to me the last few years and I’d become tough because of it. “I think you need to get to know me. The real me, since you insist upon hating me, you should at least know exactly what it is you’re hating.”

  What the hell?

  “Who are you? Yoda?” I looked at him incredulously.

  “I want to make a bet with you,” he grinned impishly.

  “A bet? What kind of bet?” Now I did start to squirm. This had ‘bad news’ written all over it.

  “How long do you need to shadow me for your paper?” He asked.

  I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I answered anyway. “A month.”

  His smile widened. “I bet that at the end of four weeks you’ll find that I’m really a nice guy.”

  “Oookay,” my brows furrowed, “what do you get if you win?” I was scared to ask, but I had to know what he could want so bad that he’d be willing to make a bet.

  “A date.” He waggled his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively. If I were a meaner person I’d push him off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic. It was the least he deserved for being such a perverted jerk.

  “If I win and still hate you in a month, what do I get?” I tilted my head slightly, waiting for his response.

  His eyes widened in surprise, like he couldn’t believe I might actually agree to this. I wasn’t as much of an uptight bitch as he believed.

  “If you win, I will gladly kiss the stick up your ass,” he chuckled, scratching his jaw. He held out his hand to me. “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  We shook on it and my fate was sealed.

  I started to head towards my car, but he stopped me once more. Since I wasn’t in the mood to argue anymore, I let him lead me to his truck. It was an old beat up blue Ford. It was nothing special, but I knew Jude loved that truck more than he loved pretty much anything. Even though it was old, it shined like it was brand new.

  He opened the passenger door for me. I rolled my eyes at his pathetic effort to be a gentleman. I wasn’t fooled.

  He slid into the driver’s seat and I noticed for that first time that he was no longer wearing the jeans and t-shirt he’d worn earlier. Instead he’d changed into a pair of blue scrubs. He looked professional and capable in them—two things I never thought I’d associate with Jude Brooks. I wondered what had made him decide to get into nursing, but figured that was a question better left for later.

  “Let’s play a game,” he suggested, starting up the truck. The engine roared and I resisted the urge to cover my ears with my hands.

  “What kind of game?” I was hesitant to play any game Jude would come up with.

  “How about each day I help you with your paper I get to ask you a personal question and you have to answer it honestly? If it makes you feel better you can ask me one question too.”

  I sighed, figuring this was all a part of his ploy to get me on his side. He didn’t know it, but there was nothing he could do to ever make me like him. So, I agreed. After all, what could it hurt?

  “Fine. Ask me whatever you want,” I shrugged, looking out the window.

  He grinned widely, reminding me of a little kid when you gave them a toy. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this. He’d probably either ask me something sexual, or why I hated him so much. Neither of which I would answer.

  “What’s your favorite candy?”

  I swiveled towards him, my mouth parting in shock. “What?”

  “What’s your favorite candy?” He repeated, smiling like he knew exactly what I had expected him to ask. “It’s a simple enough question.”

  Flabbergasted, I was unable to answer him for a moment. Finally, I opened my mouth and replied, “Twizzlers. The cherry kind. That’s my favorite.”

  “Twizzlers,” he mulled that over. “I would’ve never guessed that.”

  “What’s your favorite candy?” I asked, since I really didn’t care to ask him any personal questions. I did not want to get to know Jude.

  “Hmm,” he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he thought. “Probably gummy bears.”

  “Gummy bears?” I laughed.

  His face fell. “What’s wrong with gummy bears? They’re delicious!”

  “Nothing,” I said, fighting a smile, “I just didn’t expect that to be your favorite.”

  “What did you expect then?” He questioned, eyes on the road.

  I thought for a moment and answered, “Airheads or Sour Patch Kids.”

  “Bleh,” he made a face, gagging for extra effect, “I don’t do sour. Only sweet. That’s why I like you.”

  I shook my head and looked out the window once more, my bad mood instantly returning. I didn’t like it when Jude said stuff like that. I di
dn’t want him to pursue me, or even actually like me as a person. I hated him, so I didn’t deserve his attention.

  I started to laugh to myself, because up until a moment ago, Jude and I were having a civil conversation. I hadn’t been thinking about what he’d done to me—how he ruined my life—and he’d just been any other guy. I wished he could stay that way. I didn’t like all this hate bottled up inside me. Anger was like a poison, slithering through your veins and tainting the things you did and said. He deserved my hate for what he did, for what he caused, but the hate was only hurting me and not him. I’d lived with it for so many years I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to let it go.

  We arrived at the nursing home and I followed him inside. He pulled an ID badge out of his pocket and fixed it to his shirt. The doors slid open and the smell that accompanied every medical building assaulted me. It was one of my least favorite smells—sterile and lifeless.

  “Hi Trudy,” Jude greeted the older woman behind the desk. “You’re looking more beautiful than usual today. Did you do something to your hair?” She immediately turned into a swooning and blushing teenager. My God was I the only female that was immune to his charms? Get it together people. He wasn’t that good-looking and he was downright annoying.

  “I did,” she batted her eyelashes, “I curled it.”

  “It looks good,” he grinned. “Who am I seeing today?”

  She handed him a chart and then looked at me. “Who are you?”

  “Oh, uh, I’m here with him. He’s helping me with a, uh, paper,” I stammered. It wasn’t like me to act that way but I didn’t want this woman to get the impression that I was his girlfriend and we’d be sneaking off to the nearest broom closet.

  She looked to Jude. “Is this true?”

  Jude grinned and leaned against her desk so he could talk to her and watch me at the same time. “Look at her face, Trudy. Does that look like the face of someone that would lie to you?”

  “Um…”

  “Don’t worry,” he continued, “sadly, she is telling the truth. I wish I could tell you that she’s here because she loves me so much she can’t bear to live a moment without me in her sight. But Trudy,” he frowned, putting a hand to his heart and fake tears pooling in his eyes, “sweet Tatum here does not feel that way about me. No matter how hard I try, she does not want to be my lover. It has left me broken hearted and I’m only left with the hope that helping her with this paper will somehow make her see that she’s the girl I’m going to marry.”

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Trudy reached out, patting his hand. Her gaze swiveled to me and she glared like I was an evil wench for breaking Jude’s heart. I had news for her; he didn’t have a heart to break. If he did, he wouldn’t have destroyed my life. To me she said, “Don’t get in any trouble.”

  Me? Trouble? That was laughable.

  “See you later, Trudy,” Jude leaned over and kissed the older woman’s cheek before scampering away. Her blush from earlier deepened and she reached up to touch her cheek. “Come on, Tate.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I grumbled, trailing after him as I dug a pen and paper from my backpack.

  “If I can’t call you that, can I at least call you Tater Tot? Or maybe just Tater?”

  I kicked the back of his knee and he stumbled.

  “I assume that’s a no then,” he chuckled, straightening his scrubs.

  “You bet your ass that’s a no,” I muttered. I scribbled the date in my notebook and then pointed to the clipboard he held as we walked down the hall. “So, I’m guessing you visit different patients when you’re here?”

  He nodded, suddenly becoming all business. “It’s a rotation and they mix it up. They want us to get a feel for different issues patients face, since there’s such a wide variety.”

  He glanced down at his chart and stopped in front of a door. Looking over his shoulder at me, he waggled his brows. “Showtime.”

  

  By the time Jude dropped me back off at school to get my car, I had a new respect for nurses and all medical personnel. They had to deal with some crappy stuff, all with a smile on their face. Remembering the Jude I’d known in high school—yes, I’d been subjected to attending the same high school as the douchebag—I couldn’t believe he was willingly taking care of people. It didn’t seem like him. If someone had asked me back then what I thought Jude would be when he grew up, I probably would’ve replied with gigolo. I hated to admit it, but Jude was surprising me. It didn’t mean I was starting to like him though. It would take far more than his career choice to change my opinion of him.

  Chapter Three

  I hated weekends.

  Weekends, for most college seniors, probably meant studying with a little fun time thrown in.

  There was no fun time for me—hadn’t been in a long time.

  I was stuck in this hellhole and the most exciting thing that ever happened to me was the rare late night study session at the local coffee shop/restaurant Griffin’s, with Rowan.

  I used to be okay with that, but not anymore. I wanted a life, not…whatever this was.

  I lay across my bed with my head propped against my hand. I’d finished my homework hours ago and had nothing else to do. I wondered how different my life would have been if Graham had lived—if he hadn’t wrapped his car around a tree.

  I’d never know though.

  My phone chirped with a text and I rolled over to retrieve it from the table beside my bed.

  I opened the text from Rowan.

  Get your ass out of bed. We’re going to a party.

  No way. I typed back.

  Yes u r. Don’t be stubborn. I need u 2 go so I’m not alone.

  I sighed. Parties weren’t my thing and I knew they weren’t Rowan’s either. I needed to get out, though, and this looked like the only way.

  With a huff, I typed, Ok.

  I’m sure Rowan was surprised I caved so easily. I wasn’t the most agreeable person in the world.

  We’ll be there in 5. Was her reply.

  Since I was chilling in my pajamas, I scurried around to change. I didn’t have the wardrobe for a party, so I had to make do. I shimmied into my favorite pair of jeans and put on a plain black long-sleeved t-shirt. It was nothing fancy, that was for sure, but I didn’t care. At least I’d be comfortable. I dabbed on a bit of makeup, not much, but enough to not look like I’d rolled out of bed, and braided my hair.

  My dad wasn’t home, and since my mom was practically comatose it wasn’t like I had to worry about sneaking out. Besides, I was twenty-two so technically I was free to do what I wanted, so why did I feel so caged?

  A familiar black Dodge Challenger was parked by the mailbox. It was Trent’s—Rowan’s fiancé—car.

  As I approached the parked car, Rowan hopped out and moved the seat so I could slip in the back.

  “Evening, lovebirds,” I commented.

  I might joke about Rowan and Trent’s deep love for each other, but those two had been through a lot and I truly was happy they’d been able to work it out. Rowan used to be so anti-love but after she almost lost Trent she turned into such a sap. If they weren’t so perfect for each other I would miss the old Rowan.

  “Nice to see you too, Tate,” Trent chuckled, pulling away.

  Like I always did, I looked back at my house. I didn’t know why, but I felt like one day it might not be there to return to. It shouldn’t have even mattered to me, since it hardly felt like a home.

  “So,” I swiveled forward, “where’s this party?”

  Rowan looked back at me, sweeping her long sandy hair over her shoulder. “Well, it’s at Jude’s.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Rowan flinched at my words and tone. I rarely ever cussed, and when I did it usually involved Jude in some form.

  “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was at his place,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. My lower lip threatened to jut out like a pouting child. “I already spent all afternoon wi
th the guy, and now you expect me to spend the night with him too?”

  “Not the whole night…unless you want to.” Trent winked as he looked back at me from the rearview mirror. Rowan smacked his arm.

  “It’s a party, Tatum,” she sighed, exasperated with my behavior. “You might not even see him.”

  “Why are you guys going?” I asked. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like sit around and stare into each other’s eyes? Or plan a wedding?”

  “Jude invited me and I wanted to get out for a bit,” Rowan shrugged. “This is my last chance to do something like this.”

  I guessed she was right, what with taking care of two kids. Rowan and Trent had a son together, a son Trent didn’t even know he had until a little over a year ago. In fact, I hadn’t even known Rowan had a son. She’d claimed he was her brother, and no one had a reason to doubt her. After her mother died, she also got custody of her little sister Ivy.

  I didn’t say anymore, because I didn’t want to ruin tonight for Trent and Row. They didn’t get out enough as it was. At least they were happy unlike most people.

  I didn’t know where Jude lived, but when we turned down a street lined with cars, I knew this must be where the party was. The townhouse was close to campus and I figured other college kids had to occupy the neighborhood to put up with all the people hanging around and the loud music. Trent parked the car along the street and we all hopped out. I suddenly felt very nervous. I hadn’t been to a party since high school and it hadn’t ended well.

  I followed behind Trent and Rowan. I kept my head low—afraid of being recognized. To this day, some people still only saw me as Graham’s little sister—he’d always been popular and people older and younger than us knew who he was—and I couldn’t handle the looks of pity. He’d been gone for seven years now. I would always miss him, but I was no longer grieving. But when people looked at me with such sadness it always brought back memories better left buried.

  I stepped into the townhouse and was shocked by the amount of people inside. I really regretted agreeing to this now. I hated mingling and I refused to be Trent and Row’s third wheel all night.

  “I’m the designated driver,” Trent turned around to tell me, “so feel free to drink whatever you want.”