“What is the point, Dash?”
“Allie said she sensed something between you last night. And you have been fretful over him. You went to his place a couple times to check on him?”
“Just once,” I say, though he’s right. I dropped by two other times, and he wasn’t home. Seems I was determined to wade into shark-infested waters, just as Tyler referenced.
I’m determined to get eaten alive.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bella
I’m lost in my own self-reflection and persecution when Dash snaps me back to the present. “And?” he challenges. “What happened when you went to Tyler’s apartment, Bella?”
“I forced him to eat ice cream and he forced me to leave afterward.”
He laughs. “You forced Tyler Hawk to eat ice cream?”
“Oh, come on. Everyone loves ice cream. It was nothing and nothing happened.”
“What about what Allie sensed?”
“He’s been weird with me since I took him that damn ice cream. He doesn’t seem to know how to be friends with a woman. I think it scares him, but you know it’s for the best. He’s my boss, not my friend. I should never have forgotten that.”
“Why did you?”
“That’s easy to answer. When you lost your dad, Dash, you struggled but even so, you had me and Allie. He has no one. It’s that bleeding heart of mine. I think I felt like he was my friend because he’s your friend.”
He just stares at me a moment, as if he reads more into the answer than I thought was there. Finally, he asks, “Why didn’t you come have waffles this past weekend?”
“It wasn’t about Tyler, that’s for sure. I didn’t want to tell you the contract was falling apart, Dash. I didn’t want to let you down.”
“Are you serious? You stayed away because of that?”
“Yes. I just wanted to pull it all together and tell you everything was great.”
“Good, bad, and ugly, Bella. That’s you and me forever. Don’t hide things from me. I did from you, and look where I ended up. In underground fight clubs.”
“And maybe Tyler ends up drowning in a bottle, Dash. If you’re right and he has a problem, we have to help him.”
“What happened to my boss, not my friend?”
My lips purse. “Okay, you have to help him. I have to step back from it.”
“You’re right. You do. Because I do not want you ending up in bed with Tyler Hawk, because as you said, your bleeding heart got involved, and thought that’s what he needed at the time. He has a ‘fuck me tonight’ address book ten miles long.”
“I don’t need this particular lecture. You know that, right?”
“I think you do. I sense it, Bella, and so did Allie. Be careful with Tyler.” He slides my plate in front of me. “And eat your lunch. You need the energy to negotiate my contact.”
My phone buzzes with a text and I snake it from my purse to find Tyler, of all people, on my ID. I click the message and read: I’ll text you when I’m ten minutes from your place. I need your address.
I sent him the information and the exchange ends there. I set my phone down on the table and Dash arches a brow. I pick up my fork. “Tell me about the book you’re writing.”
“There’s no story to tell right now. It’s too soon.”
A little like me and Tyler, I think. We are nothing more than a few lines on the page, or perhaps one paragraph.
Hardly worthy of Dash’s warning of “Be careful with Tyler.”
Yet hours later, those words ring in my head as I finish packing and wait on Tyler to pick me up. I clearly lied to Dash when I told him I didn’t need his lecture. We both knew better. In fact, I’ve been thinking about Dash’s warning and my actions with Tyler for hours.
I am not going to sleep with Tyler Hawk.
The idea that he has an address book ten miles long actually sickens me a bit. I can’t help but wonder how many women he’s shoved against a door. Maybe he can promise a grand orgasm because he has lots of experience. He’s a manwhore. He likes it that way. Let him keep on living his own way. On his own. Alone.
The doorbell rings, and my brows furrow. I’m not expecting a delivery, and according to a text message from Tyler about two hours ago, he’ll text me when he’s outside waiting on me. Maybe I do have a delivery I forgot. I hurry toward the door and when I fling it open, I suck in a breath. Tyler is standing there, right in front of me, in jeans and a snug, long-sleeved sweater that hugs his muscular torso. Our eyes collide and just that easily, I’m tingling with awareness. Dash’s lecture will not save me. There’s no escaping Tyler Hawk. Not anymore. Something has changed between us, really it had changed long before the office door incident, and there is no turning back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bella
I quell my nervous energy and force myself to face this moment as if it were any other, not one where my boss who has been between my legs is at my front door. “What are you doing here, Tyler?”
“I thought you might need help with your luggage.”
“I’m not even done packing. You were supposed to text me ten minutes before you got here and you’re twenty minutes early.”
“Invite me in and I’ll wait.”
My brows dip. “Is this payback for me showing up at your door unannounced?”
“I’m not unannounced. You knew I was coming. Invite me in, Bella.” His voice is a low command with a raspy, almost intimate quality.
I hesitate and then ease back onto the foyer, folding my arms in front of me, as if that will stop my breasts from aching simply because he’s in my presence.
“There’s Diet Coke and baked Cheetos in the kitchen, but not much,” I say flippantly, as if he would eat a baked Cheeto, or at least admit to it. “Make yourself at home. Not really. Just sit somewhere. I have to finish getting ready.” But I don’t immediately step away. I’m suddenly wondering what he sees when he sees my home. Beyond this room, my living area has vaulted ceilings with wooden beams and a stunning chandelier I still love since I had it installed two years ago. My furniture is a mix of brown and white linens, while my fireboard is this magical, dark wooden masterpiece. The kitchen, which overlooks the living area, is a mix of wood and white marble. It’s a beautiful place, of that I know, but what does it say about me?
Alone with nothing to do but decorate, I think.
“Bella?” Tyler questions.
“Yes?” I mentally shake myself and motion behind me, telling him where to go wait, as I’ve instructed. “I’m going upstairs. You stay here.”
His eyes light with what appears to be amusement. My discomfort amuses him. This doesn’t surprise me one little bit. “You should hurry,” he encourages. “We’re flying commercial. I thought you’d be more comfortable that way.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” I say flatly.
“That way you don’t have to be alone with me,” he replies.
“Like I am now?” I challenge, somehow offended by the idea that he chose to place a barrier between us. I’ve known the man for years. We have been alone many times without any hands on each other. We probably aren’t even sitting together. Maybe he’s in first and I’m in coach. That will teach me to bring him ice cream.