I heard a car in the distance and glanced over my shoulder.
A taxi. Chill ran down my spine.
That would be embarrassing. Me standing in front of his door early in the morning, while he got out of a taxi after a wild night out. It would be a perfect example of how different our lives were. How different we were.
Heat started warming my armpits; I almost felt like sweating. The taxi didn’t stop. I slowly released the breath I was holding. Anger washed over me with the realization I was sweating even without his presence.
I balled one hand into a fist and raised it to pound on the door. It flung open just a second before I hit it.
“I knew it. No one else I know would be up so early on a Sunday.”
Tyler rubbed his eyes. His hair stuck out in every direction. My gaze traveled down to his naked chest. When it reached his sweatpants, I immediately looked up to his face again. He was moving his head left and right like he was warming up before a training session.
When he finally stopped doing that his eyes found mine. We stared at each other for a moment. Then he leaned a shoulder on the door frame and raised a brow in question. I remained silent.
“I know you came here to wake me up and piss me off, but I anticipated you would also say something.”
That was part of Tyler’s charm. He knew what I was thinking and what I wanted without me saying a word. And when that something was to push his buttons, he remained calm. Collected. I had seen him irritated, but I never saw him lose control over his emotions. Assuming he had any.
I lifted my chin up and spoke with my sweetest voice.
“I told you yesterday that we are helping Clem and Lucas move to the new house.”
“Is she even awake?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t called her yet.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head with a hint of a smile on his lips. He pushed himself off the door frame and waved a hand to invite me in.
“I’ll take a shower.”
“Aren’t you going to offer me a cup of coffee first?” I asked as he was slowly walking up the stairs.
“You know where the kitchen is,” he said with a yawn.
“Yes, but I am a guest at your house.”
“Not my house, little Spencer.”
I couldn’t see him anymore and it seemed pointless to continue talking to him, so I went to the kitchen. Tyler returned ten minutes later. The smell of oranges coming from him was stronger than at the vineyard. His blond hair was wet and that made it look darker. A lock of it was plastered over his forehead. I wanted to reach over and move it. Return it to its place.
“See? You made coffee,” he said with a tone that suggested he wasn’t at all surprised. He sat across from me at the table and took a sip. “What a good, obedient little girl. I bet Nick loves how manageable you are.”
“Didn’t we have that conversation already? There is nothing wrong with doing something for others. It gives you pleasure.”
“Next time give yourself pleasure by letting me get some sleep,” he said, his gaze fixed on my lips.
Him talking about me giving myself pleasure sounded dirty. And hot. My entire body warmed up.
“I warned you yesterday. We are helping Clem.”
“And I told you I was attending a party. And yet here you are,” his eyes met mine. “At seven in the morning.”
“How was it?” I asked.
“Like every other party,” he glanced around. “Did you by any chance bring something for breakfast?”
“No.”
“You are buying me breakfast then,” he stood up. “It’s only fair, since you woke me up just to watch me drag my sleepy ass all day.” I smiled at the fact he not only knew what I was thinking, but formulated my thoughts with the same words I was thinking.
“A quick bite,” I warned and jumped off my chair.
“Of course. I wouldn’t postpone the unbelievable delight of moving my sister’s shit.” He exited the kitchen and I followed.
“You are not moving it yourself. They hired people.”
“Why am I going then?”
“Because they need help to unpack. You saw the boxes. It’s a lot. They also ordered new furniture.”
Tyler locked the front door and extended a hand in my direction, palm facing up.
“What?” I asked.
“I am driving.”
“I don’t think so.” He cocked a brow and I mimicked his gesture. “You are probably still drunk. I’m not letting you drive me anywhere.”
“Why do you always assume I’m drunk?” He asked and sounded truly baffled.
“I don’t know. It suits your image.”
“My image?” His hand was still waiting for the car keys.
“You know,” I pointed at him.
“I don’t actually. Please, enlighten me.”
“Well,” I started stepping from one foot to the other. “You are…”
He waited for a while. I didn’t finish my sentence. He started laughing.
“You have no problem insulting me when I can’t hear you, but you can’t say it to my face?”
“When have I ins…?” I paused. “She told you?”
“Yes,” he grinned. “You should watch it around my staff. They love me.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t intend on ever going back to that hellhole.”
“You wound me. How will I ever live without your presence there?” He placed his hand over his chest, then extended it again. “Give me the keys,” his tone sounded serious now. “I had one beer like ten hours ago.”
I looked at him trying to figure out if he was lying. His pupils were in their normal size. He wasn’t slurring. I guess I could test his balance by tripping him, but he hadn’t slept enough and even the calmest, most restrained person had its limits. I didn’t want to test his. Not when I wanted him helping today.
“Don’t fall asleep behind the wheel,” I dropped the keys in his hand and turned my back to him strolling over to the car.
“Hold my attention and I won’t.”
I laughed. “Holding your attention is a difficult task, Hartley.”
“It’s not for every woman, I admit. But you are resourceful. I am sure you’ll find a way to do it.”
***
Later that afternoon, Lucas and I moved around a dining table in the kitchen area of their new house. Tyler sat on the floor looking at us, shouting instructions. He refused to carry the damn thing, stating that he was a feminist and didn’t want to insult me, by offering do to something I was perfectly capable of doing myself.
I wasn’t sure who I wanted to curse more in that moment. Him for being an ass, or Lucas for not being able to decide where he wanted the freaking table.
“Your kitchen is not that big, Cole,” I panted.
“Shut up, Spencer.”
“Tyler!” I said a little more sharply than I wanted. “Would you mind moving your ass? Go get Clem.”
Clem was in their bedroom upstairs, arranging their clothes in their walk-in closet. That was the only thing Lucas agreed to delegate her.
“I’m wiped,” Tyler stretched his legs in front of him. “Maybe you should take a break and go get her yourself.”