“Well, in California, everyone seems to have a therapist. So, I went. It’s not that bad,” I said in a rush. “I put myself down a lot and think about terrible shit a lot. It helped with all that stuff.”
He squeezed my hand.
“And one day she asked me why I was still living the shitty, broken life Dad forced on me, instead of the fun one I wanted. She said it nicer, but that’s what it boiled down to.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to see if he thought I sounded stupid.
“It’s... fun,” he said, nodding in the direction of the decorations on the lawn.
“Do you like it?” I couldn’t help how hopeful I sounded.
“Yeah.”
“Good. That’s all that counts.”
We grinned. The relief that rolled through me had me laughing, and I felt even better when he snickered.
“You went to a therapist?” he asked, eyebrows raised. I might as well have told him I’d gone to a cannibal barbecue.
“It was better than lying around on the floor of my studio apartment listening to ‘Purple Rain’ on repeat during my days off. I had to get out of that funk somehow. Like I said, it helped.” I shrugged.
“So, this is a multicolored fuck you to your dad?” he asked, opening his car door.
I snagged my glove, Jules’s directions to get rid of our clothes pinging around in my brain, and then rushed to follow Tyler outside into the cold. “Yep! Damn, my ass might have frostbite.”
He chuckled.
We met at the front of the car, and this time, I snagged his hand, giving it a squeeze. Heat shivered through my stomach.
“Leave your bags in the car. I can get them tomorrow. You can wear my clothes tonight.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “There isn’t much in them, anyway.” Then, he looked back toward the house. “You should get more lights.” He glanced down my front. “Right after you shower off the blood.”
Groaning, I nodded and walked up the front steps to my door.
With a little fumbling, I was able to let us inside without dropping his hand. Of all the unbelievable things that had happened tonight, Tyler coming to my house was the strangest of all—and the best.
And if that interested gleam in his eyes said anything, there was a good chance it would get better.
7
TYLER
I showered after Eddie. He’d told me, while collecting my clothes to get rid of them, he would make us a late dinner. The spray on my skin was warm, the blood from Mike’s body washing off and swirling down the drain. I watched the deep red water as it disappeared, the excitement from earlier still buzzing in my stomach and making me feel like a live wire.
The electrical current zapped me awake. It was as though the world had finally aligned, which was strange because someone was dead.
But it wasn’t just anyone.
It was a man who’d made my skin crawl. Washing his blood off was the best version of getting clean because what he’d done to me went directly down the drain with the rest of him.
He was gone. Eddie had made sure of that. He might’ve left me here in New Gothenburg, but as soon as he’d returned and suspected someone had hurt me, he’d killed them. It didn’t get much more committed than that, did it? My chest felt light and weird.
Good weird.
Had I ever felt this way?
Once I was done in the shower, I dried off and grabbed a set of clothes Eddie had left me, a T-shirt and a pair of green boxers. They were too big, but they were comfy, like a warm hug. Even though they were fresh, I swore I could still smell Eddie on them. I breathed him in, closing my eyes to fully experience his natural scent.
I’d never thought of Eddie as anything but my friend before now, but I’d kissed him and everything had changed.
