"No, the point was to make her ex jealous. This is... something else."
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I know."
"Have you told her?"
"Told her what?"
"That you're falling in love with her, you idiot."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"Look," I lower my voice even more, moving into the bathroom and shutting the door. "We talked. In the woods. I told her I want this—us—to be real."
"And?" Tyler presses.
"And she's scared. Because of what happened before. With Ethan cheating on her." I lean against the sink. "We're taking it slow. One day at a time."
"Slow? In the same bed? Good luck with that, buddy."
I can't help but smile, remembering last night. "It's complicated."
"It's only complicated because you're making it complicated." Tyler's voice softens. "Bash, I've known you since we were idiot freshmen in high school. I've seen you with dozens of women. You've never once brought any of them to meet Sarah. You've never looked at anyone the way Emily says you look at Charlie."
My chest tightens. "Emily said that?"
"She texted me earlier. We've been comparing notes." He pauses. "Everyone sees it except maybe you two."
"I see it," I admit quietly. "I just don't want to scare her off."
"Sometimes the scary things are worth it," Tyler says. "Anyway, I'm serious about tomorrow. Look happy. Be happy. It's the best revenge." He finishes and then adds, "Listen, I should let you go. You've got better company. Just don't waste this, okay? And call me with details about dinner at the Harpers' tomorrow. I want to hear how Ethan's eye twitches when you call her 'Shortcake.'"
I laugh despite myself. "Will do."
"Night, man."
"Night."
I hang up and head into the bedroom and put my phone on my charger on the nightstand. Charlie's leaning against the dresser, still wearing my shirt.
"Everything okay?" she asks.
"Yeah," I say, as I sit on the edge of the bed. "Just Tyler being Tyler."
"I like him," she says, smiling. "He cares about you."
"He does," I agree. "Even when he's being a pain in the ass."
She shifts slightly, the movement causing the shirt to ride up her thighs. "I meant to ask—does it bother you that I keep stealingyour clothes?"
I reach out and place my hand on her hip, my thumbs brushing the soft skin exposed between the hem of the shirt and the top of her underwear. "Not even a little bit."
"No?" She tilts her head, a teasing gleam in her eyes.
"I like seeing you in my things," I admit, slowly pulling her toward me. "It does something to me."
"What kind of something?" she murmurs, her voice dropping.
I lean forward, brushing my lips against hers. "The kind that makes me want to see you out of them, too."
