He stands in the flowerbed while I’m up on the porch. We’re eye to eye, possibly for the first time ever.
Tyson pushes his hand through his dark brown hair. “You okay?”
My stomach dives to my feet as I pull in a great breath through my nose, hold it for three, two, one…okay. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
Tyson’s fingers graze my cheek, but only for a fraction of a second. “You had a leaf.”
I brush at the front of my yoga pants. “I think I have a lot of them.”
He steps up onto the concrete and crosses his arms, giving me a sideways look through narrowed eyes. “JoJo? Holy shit!”
I offer him my hand. “How’re you doing, Ty?”
His big grin spreads, and the eyes I fell in love with at the tender age of twelve sparkle.
He grabs me in a bear hug and swings me around. “JoJo Jordan. I’ll be damned. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Jo.” I cough. “Just Jo these days. I—I live next door.”
He squeezes me a tad harder before setting me on my feet. “Aw. C’mon, don’t be like that. I’ve always called you JoJo. This is wild as hell. You and I—neighbors again after all these years.”
I blow air from between compressed lips. “Yeah. It’s kind of crazy, I guess.”
A memory of Ty shooing me out of a darkened school building brings on a wave of long-repressed guilt. I cram it into its hole and push forward with the problem at hand.
“Look, I came over to ask if whoever has the room in the back can please move their bed.”
Ty’s expression grows serious. “Move the bed? Why?”
Oh, gracious. Am I actually going to have to explain? “It’s simply not in a good place.”
“That would be my bed, and I think it’s in the perfect place.”
Great. I should’ve known it would be Tyson’s room.
And, of course, it’s Ty who has the stamina of a freaking work horse—or, more aptly, a stallion.
My cheeks heat.
I massage the ache between my eyebrows. “Can you move the bed please? Your…your nocturnal activities are keeping people up at night.”
His grin returns, even cockier than I remember. “Oh. So you’re the wall banger.”
A different kind of warmth climbs past my neck. “Um. No. You are. And that’s why I haven’t gotten any sleep for almost a week.”
“I meant you were the one hitting the wall in the middle of the night.”
I square my shoulders. “Only because you were hitting it for—for-freaking-ever, and I needed to get some sleep.”
Ty taps his finger against his lips—his perfectly shaped and fascinating lips. His eyes come to mine. I glance away before he realizes I’m staring at his mouth.
“I like my bed right where it is, thanks. I think I’ll leave it.”
My gaze slides to him. “What? You’re not going to move it?”
He gives a small shake of his head. “Nope.”
“That’s just so…” I back down the steps, careful not to miss any. “Seriously? You’re really not going to do as I ask?”
He looks me up and down, twisting his bottom lip between his forefinger and thumb.
He raises one eyebrow. “If I remember correctly—and I’m pretty sure I do—you had a massive crush on me when we were kids.”
My lungs freeze. My heart stutters. Mortification immobilizes me.
He lifts his chin, like a backward nod. “Go ahead. We’re all grown up now. You can admit it.”
My backbone stiffens. “What does a childhood crush have to do with you and your girlfriend keeping me awake all night and your being too stubborn and not enough of a gentleman to do anything about it?”
His brow wrinkles. “No girlfriend.”
No girlfriend? “What? Who cares? You and your…your…oh, whatever you call her—”
“Them.”
Them?
The implication sinks into my befuddled brain in about one-point-two seconds.
Disgust rocks me. “Well, whatever. You and them need to do your thing farther from the wall.”
“I’m not moving the bed. But…
I wait for him to continue. He doesn’t.
I cross my arms. “But what?”
“The wall banging won’t bother you if it’s you in my bed.”
The wall banging won’t…my eyebrows climb to my hairline. “Oh. My. Gosh. Are you hitting on me?”
“Yes.” His tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip. “Yes, I believe I am, JoJo Jordan.”
Josephina’s full lips press tightly together and her eyes flash.
Those eyes—green-hazel framed with thick, inky lashes that curl, even free of makeup.