We stare at each other, chests rising and falling in sync, and my heartbeat thunders in my ears as my brain races to figure out how he knew I was on a dating app. He has to be talking about VibeCheck, right? But I haven’t told anyone except the girls that I’m on there, and I know none of them would say anything, so the only way he would know is if… No way. My brain immediately rejects it as impossible. “You said delete the app, Tyler. What does that mean?”
I can tell the second he realizes what he said, his eyes sharpening and his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, his eyes bouncing between mine. “So, funny story,” he says with a smirk that is a direct contrast to the light wash of guilt in his gaze. “I’m kind of…I mean I know…I mean I am… Fuck,” he mutters.
I roll my eyes because this man literally never shuts up, so itfigures the one time I need him to make words, he doesn’t seem to know any. “Get your shit together, Harry. Are you talking about VibeCheck? How did you know I was on a dating app? I never told you that.”
Tyler blows out a breath, shoving a hand through his messy waves, and fuck me, why do I find that so devastatingly sexy? I’m so distracted by the way his hair falls over his forehead, it takes me a second to see he’s holding out a hand to me like we’re at a business meeting or something.
“What are you doing?” I ask warily.
“Shake my hand, Sal,” he says, his lips tipping up on one side in the crooked smile of his that only comes out to play when he’s done something wrong and thinks he needs absolution.
I cross my arms over my chest, and even though I think I’m about to be furious with him, I still feel a rush of power when Tyler’s eyes drop to my chest and I know—I just fucking know—he’s seeing my naked boobs in his head.
At least they’re good boobs.
Figuring I should get the angry portion of the night over with, I put my hand in his, feeling the little snap of electricity when his skin slides against mine.
“Pleasure to meet you, ChaosQueen. I’m RenegadeRush.”
“You’re…you…huh?” is all I can manage as my brain tries to make sense of the words reverberating through the hallway where we stand.
Tyler curls his fingers around mine when I try to pull my hand away, holding tight and laying his other hand on top of our joined ones, his eyes steady on mine. “I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the last five weeks. It’s me.”
I stare at him as I flip frantically through the last five weeks of conversations with RenegadeRush. The questions. The banter. The ease that suddenly makes complete sense because I wasn’t talking to a stranger. I was talking to the person in my life who is the farthest possible thing from a stranger. Little snippets of our texts flash through my brain.
I grew up with sisters, and I’ve been known to paint my nails a time or two.
I have anxiety. Not all the time, but sometimes, and sometimes it gets pretty bad.
She’s home for me. She has been since we were kids.
I think it would be easy for someone in my position to feel inadequate with a dad who has accomplished what mine has, but I’ve never felt that.
Can a garden-variety football fan recite the stats of every offensive player on every team, in every game for the last five years?
Pretty friend.
And then I almost laugh, the fact that I’m supposed to be angry right now kind of forgotten, because he was dropping breadcrumbs this whole time and fuck me, it suddenly seems insane I didn’t figure this out sooner. Actually, I should have figured it out sooner, because he should have told me. So, actually, fuck him.
Okay maybe I am still a little angry.
Except not really because god, I really want to fuck him. And I want to know how he found out. When he found out. Why best friend Tyler suddenly became possessive Tyler andtouch me all the timeTyler and why we were making out against a wall in the back hallway of our best friend’s bar two minutes ago. Why he didn’t tell me it was him because Tyler doesn’t have a devious bone in his body, so if he was keeping it from me, he has a reason.
All I have to do is ask and he’ll tell me everything. I’m sure of it.
But he needs to suffer for a minute first.
The curtain rises and I take the stage.
I narrow my eyes at Tyler, yanking my hand away from him and crossing my arms over my chest again, feeling a streak of heat when, once again, his eyes dip to my tits. “You knew it was me and you didn’t tell me?”
I use my lowest, scariest voice, and the flash of fear that crosses Tyler’s face as his eyes snap up to mine, the way histhroat bobs as he swallows hard, has satisfaction buzzing through me. He looks so terrified I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. Goddammit I want to kiss his face off, and now that I know he wants to kiss me too, it’s awfully hard to resist throwing myself at him. But I’m in the middle of a show, and I always commit to the role.
“Not exactly. I only…”
I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “You know what? Save it, Tyler. I don’t want to know right now. I need to take a fucking beat.”
“No,” he says sharply, before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. When he opens his eyes, there’s a plea in them, and he lifts his hand, reaching out for me before seeming to think better of it, raking that hand through his hair instead. Holy shitballs he’s so hot. “I mean, please don’t go, Soph. Stay here and talk to me. I’ll explain everything, I swear.”
