I notice a small tattoo on his arm. A hammer. It makes me laugh because I can see him arguing with his bandmates that he’s nothing like Thor and doesn’t even have a hammer, but then he goes and gets one.
A girl next to me calls him, so he looks up. One moment he’s smiling at his fans, and the next, he’s staring right into my eyes, his smile gone.
His security urges him to move on. He nods but doesn’t move, and neither do I. I want to run, but my legs aren’t taking signals from my brain.
His lips move.
“Tyler.”
I can’t hear him, but I don’t need to. I still remember his voice. The one he reserved for me.
And then I’m angry because he took everything away when he left.
Did he ever wonder why I didn’t call him back? Was it so easy for him to believe I’d give it all up? Give him up?
I turn around and make my way to the exit. I don’t stop until I find a cab to take me to the hotel room I booked for the night. I pick up my overnight bag but don’t stay. There’s nothing for me here. I head to the airport and sit there until I can take my flight the next day.
By the time I pull up outside Porter and Seymour’s apartment, I’ve made a resolution. Hell, I’ve made a bunch of resolutions. But the first is to get over Mik and give Porter and me a chance.
I just hope he’s ready because I certainly am.
22
TYLER
NOW
I rubmy hands together and blow on them to keep them warm. Trust me to leave the house without gloves in this cold.
“Come on, Stan. Do what you have to do and quick.”
As usual, he ignores me when he’s focused on finding whatever he’s looking for under the snow. He runs back to me and drops a stick at my feet.
“Are you joking?” I laugh at the small twig.
He jumps excitedly, waiting for me to throw it.
“Fine. But after this one, you do your business because, unlike you, I don’t have fur-coated balls.”
Laughter makes me turn around.
“Mik.”
He’s wearing the same coat he wore last week when he was in my office, but this time, he has a warm scarf around his neck. It brings out the blue in his eyes.
“Hi, Ty.”
“What are you doing here?”
He laughs again. “One of these days, you’ll have to stop being surprised that you bumped into me.”
“It’s a hard habit to break after so long.”
“I know.” He stares at the snow on the ground and kicks some of it away. “I was taking a walk to clear my mind. I wasn’t stalking you. I promise.”
I smile.
“But,”—he takes a few steps closer—“I need to talk to you. I just didn’t know how to approach it.”
