His to Love (Fireside #1)(7)

Surrendering the mug for good when he took another sip, I reached for another and poured my own cup.

“What’d your dad want?” he asked, and leaned his hip against the counter.

It was unfair that he looked so good after just waking up. His clothes were even unwrinkled, like he had taken the time to iron them while he was hiding out in my room.

Which I was grateful for. World War III didn’t need to happen in my hotel room. Besides, cleaning up blood and guts was messy.

But it was a seriously cruel joke that Tyson could wake up and look completely put together, while I still felt like a complete wreck, from my messed-up hair to the wrinkled robe and faded yoga pants. Even my toenail polish was chipped.

“Nothing.” I shook my head and moved to the kitchen table. “Just to welcome me home.”

To remind me to go visit my dying mom. As if that wasn’t the whole reason I was home, anyway.

I slumped in my chair and stared out the windows in the living room. Detroit wasn’t a pretty city. Certainly nothing like Eleanor’s farm in Colorado, where there was always the beauty of mountains and air that smelled so fresh you could practically feel it feeding your lungs. In Detroit, everything was loud and muggy. The humidity was horrendous and the smog from the automobile plants seemed to leave a film over the city that refused to burn away even on the brightest and hottest days of summer.

Tyson slipped into the chair across from me, coffee mug again pressed to his lips. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and I couldn’t pull my focus away from his dark eyes. Or his tanned skin. Or his muscles. Or…pretty much anything about him.

For the second time I thought about how absolutely perfect he was. Physically, anyway.

I couldn’t be around him right then. I was too raw from the visit from my dad and the reminder of why I came to town in the first place. As long as my dad was around, the only thing I had to give Tyson was some torrid affair where we still had to hide and slink around in the darkness.

I was tired of hiding. And I wouldn’t ask for Tyson to do it again, either.

“Aren’t you going?” I asked, arching a brow. My foot began tapping a staccato rhythm on the carpeted floor.

He returned the look. “We really need to work on your morning-after manners.”

“I…we…” My teeth clamped closed and I watched him fight a laugh. Scowling, I said, “This is no morning after. I don’t even know why you’re here…or why I let you in.”

“Didn’t have much choice when you passed out in the hallway.”

My eyes widened. “I did not.”

“Did so.” He nodded seriously and set the mug on the table. “You leaned right up against the wall, started singing ‘Roar,’ said it was your new life-anthem or something like that, and then you just sort of…stopped.”

No amount of foundation could have covered up the heat burning on my cheeks. “I didn’t.”

“You did. I have it on video if you’d like to see…” He reached for his back pocket, and I lunged over the table.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Relax.” He laughed and held up his hands, surrendering.

I slid back into my seat. I would have preferred to sink into the floor and forget the last twenty-four hours. A do-over had never sounded like a better idea.

“I didn’t take a video, but your voice needs work.”

“Anything else you need me to change for you?” I asked, but my voice carried a sting of anger, lacking the teasing tone I had intended. I blamed my father’s visit for making me so high-strung and oversensitive. All my life I’d been forced to be someone I wasn’t. Forced to pretend and act perfect at all times. Tyson had been my solace from it, yet after one small conversation with my father, I was back to feeling like I’d never measure up to anyone.

His smile disappeared. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Blue.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“No.” I stood up. I did like it. Too much. It reminded me of blissful ignorance and pathetic dreams. “I don’t even know why you’re here, or why you stayed.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Argh. Those muscles. I looked away. “Figured if you were going to throw up, it’d be nice if you weren’t alone.”

“Well thank you, then.” I flashed him a look and walked into the kitchen. Then I poured myself another cup of coffee and stayed there. Being too close to him was deadly. I was getting all swoony and girly and lusty and that wasn’t me. “Then you should be relieved that your vomit-watch is over now.”

His lips twitched. He slowly pushed his chair out, swung his leg over the back, and then pushed it back under the table. And damn, his butt looked good in those jeans. I caught just a glimpse before he turned away and walked around the table, heading straight for me.

Instinctively, I took a step back. And then I froze. I wouldn’t cower away from him.

“You should really get going.”

“I probably should.” He took another step closer. I rolled my shoulders back.

“Good.”

“Yup.” Another step forward. He was close enough that I could smell him, and he didn’t smell like stale alcohol and un-brushed teeth. He smelled like sunshine and sex. “I’ll see you later.”

I shook my head and gripped the mug in front of me like it was a lifeline. To what, I had no clue, but I needed something to hold me steady. Keep me sane. “Probably not a good idea.”

“Oh, I think it’s a great idea,” he murmured and leaned forward. And I was done for.

I was completely lost as he brushed his lips against my cheek. That damn lip-brush was going to be the death of me. My breath hitched in my throat.

“I still have questions and you still owe me answers.”

He moved toward the door, opening it and glancing back at me over his shoulder. “See you soon, Blue.”

The door clicked shut behind him, echoing all over in the silent room, and I was left alone.

Just like always.

“Shit.”

—

I scrubbed my hair with shampoo and tried to calm my mind. When my father had called and requested that I return home, I had only been concerned about my mom and her health.

Running into Tyson had thrown me for a loop and as I showered, washing my hair and massaging my temples to eradicate my hangover, I couldn’t help remember one of the hardest conversations he and I had ever had.

—

“That’s wonderful!” I jumped up and threw myself into his arms.

The piece of white paper in Tyson’s hand crinkled as I pressed my chest against his.

“I’m so proud of you, Tyson.”

Tyson squeezed me and then let me go. His hands curled over the top of my shoulders as he looked down at me, his thick brow furrowed in that way they did when he was really concentrating. In two years of dating, I had seen a lot of his looks. His serious look was the least common, and I worried my lip between my teeth.

“What?”

“Central is almost two hours away, Blue.”

I frowned. “And?”

“So how we gonna stay together?”

My eyes widened. “This is what you’re worried about? Us?”

Tyson shook his acceptance letter from Central University in front of my face. The paper made a harsh snapping sound and I could tell he was frustrated, but I was fighting back a giggle.

I placed my hand against his cheek. “We’ve got cars, Tyson. We can see each other whenever we want.”

“I thought you’d be upset. Or sad because you’ll miss me.” His lips thinned and he ran his hand through his hair. “Shit, I’m turning into a girl, aren’t I?”

My giggle slipped free. Tyson shot me a scowl but I saw his shoulders lose some of the tension.

“It’s four years, Tyson. Four years of us following our dreams. That’s what relationships are about—helping the person you love go after their dream. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“I don’t like the idea of you being far from me, with other guys not knowing you’re mine.”

I rolled my eyes. This, his possessiveness, I knew well. Our school was small, but Tyson still walked with me in that way that silently told all the guys around us to back off. I teased him frequently about just getting his name tattooed on my forehead.

“You’re crazy.” I rolled onto my toes and kissed his lips before I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

He copied the move, and lifted me until my legs wrapped around his waist.

“I love you Tyson Blackwell. I always will. Four years is nothing compared to the rest of our lives together.”

He heaved a heavy breath and pressed his lips against my ear. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, anyway. No matter what happens, it’s you and me, Blue, and it’ll be that way forever.”

—

I slapped off the water faucet and reached for a towel. It wasn’t until I had finished drying off that I realized my cheeks weren’t still wet from the shower, but from my tears.

We had made so many promises to each other. We had made so many plans together.

Now, ten years later, I had no idea if it’d ever be possible to get past the lies between us.

I did know that even though Tyson left me in my hotel room just an hour ago, I already missed him like crazy.