I grin, Jack’s weird question falling out of my head at the prospect of irritating Oliver during pre-game. “Fuck yes. Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER SIX
SOPHIE
“By actress?” I call to Tyler from where I’m standing in his living room, studying his movie shelf.Twenty-Seven Dressesnow sits next toKnocked Up,andPretty Womanis neighbors withNotting Hill.
His expansive rom-com DVD collection has inhabited this green corner shelf for the entire time he’s lived in this house, but not once in those four or so years has he settled on an organization scheme that pleases him. Every few weeks, he rearranges the little rectangular boxes, and figuring out his method of the moment has become a little game of ours.
“You bet.” He saunters in from the kitchen, carrying two glasses. My stomach does a little involuntary flip at the way the Lightning jersey he wore to Oliver’s game hangs off his broad shoulders, the backwards hat making me think all kinds of dirty thoughts I have no business thinking while I’m standing in my best friend’s living room. And when he hands me the glass filled with what I’m sure is frosty Dr Pepper with the perfect soda to ice ratio and he jingles the bracelets on my wrist, his fingersgrazing my skin, I feel the shot of electricity all the way up my arm.
Tyler seems to falter for a second, and the part of me that’s been in love with all of him for the past three years hopes maybe he felt it too. But he recovers so fast it’s like it never happened at all, and honestly, maybe it didn’t. I just wish it did.
The whole reason I created a VibeCheck profile in the first place was so I didn’t do things like hope Tyler Hansley will one day realize he’s as hopelessly in love with me as I am with him. And the two conversations I’ve had with football guy had me thinking it could maybe even work.
But then we went to Oliver’s hockey game tonight, and Tyler sat next to me. We shared snacks the way we always do, and I refused to share my drink with him. He tossed his arm around my shoulders and grabbed my hand when Oliver took a hard hit and it took him a few extra seconds to get up, and he crash-tackled me in a hug when the Lightning won in overtime.
He was just so…there. He’s always there. He’s been right there for the entirety of my twenty-six years, and most of the time I love it, even when it hurts a little. But now it’s ten o’clock and Tyler convinced me to come back to his house for movie night instead of going home with Sarah to the house we share like I should have, and my defenses are lower than I want them to be.
I take a step back from him under the guise of turning back to the shelves. “I’m not so sure by actress is your best bet. Because thenSleepless in SeattleandYou’ve Got Mailare together, butBigis somewhere else, and that’s a travesty. By actor might be a better way. Let Tom Hanks be your north star.”
“Shit, you’re so right.”
Tyler steps up behind me, studying the shelf over my shoulder, and my stomach does a swoop and swirl at his proximity. At the familiarity of the clean, soapy smell of the aftershave he’s been using since high school. At the way his heat radiates into me, warming my back.
I need to get a fucking grip.
This isfriendTyler.
Friend to whom I want to do very unholy and extremely disrespectful things.
Gah. Fuck.
I wish briefly I had my phone in my hand to see if I got any more messages from football guy. He’s a good distraction for these inconvenient feelings.
“Wait,” Tyler says, excitement in his voice. “Not by actor. By place. Tom Hanks is undisputed king of the New York City rom-com, so if we do it that way, most of his will be together without even trying. That’s the only way. Fuck, you’re brilliant.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders from behind and kisses the top of my head. At this point, I’m used to the way my body goes a little haywire at the move that, for him, is nothing more than an expression of friendship. We’ve always had a touchy-feely sort of relationship. That’s just the kind of guy Tyler is. “We’re reorganizing them right now.”
I smile because I’ve heard this before. Tomorrow or the next day or a few weeks from now, he’ll get another idea and then we’ll be right back where we started. Spinning around, I face him and immediately stumble backwards, his close proximity a jump scare. If not for the arm he reaches out to steady me, I would have gone careening backwards into his immaculately organized movie shelf.
Poking a finger into his chest, I shove him back a step. “We are absolutely not doing that. It’s after ten, and not all of us have an offseason. I have like eighty thousand things on my to-do list for tomorrow and need to get some sleep so I have the brain power to do them.
Tyler rolls his eyes, but his smile is amused. “Sal, you’re the smartest person I know. You can do all the things on no sleep and standing on your damn head. If you want, I can come with you to work and be your assistant. You know I love an offseason project.”
Ducking under his arm, I head for the couch, grabbing my phone along the way. A glance at it tells me I don’t have any VibeCheck messages, and when I feel a flash of disappointment, I mentally slap myself across the face because that’s a really stupid thing to be disappointed about.
That is not badass behavior, and as a self-proclaimed badass, I feel I must represent at all times, even when I’m all alone in my very own head.
“I already have an assistant. Anyway, you better pick a movie, and fast, because there’s a non-zero chance I fall asleep on this couch.”
Tyler smirks at me. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
No, it definitely would not be the first time. Our rom-com movie nights are notorious for two things. The first being the snacks, and the second being the fact that I almost always fall asleep on Tyler’s sectional which is, unequivocally, the most comfortable couch in the world.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re about to lose your movie picking rights. According to my watch, you have six more minutes to choose or selection rights revert back to me.”
He rolls his eyes, reaching behind him and picking a DVD without even looking, holding it up to me. “It has to beTen Things I Hate About You.”
With a grin, I kick my feet up on the coffee table. “Fuck yes, Julia Stiles at her finest.”
