Page 34 of Tied

Tyler

How do you find a way towards the surface when it’s always coated in ice? My heart has been coated in ice for so long I’m afraid to chip it away. Chris has me wanting to try though.

It’s not his acts—previously noticed that makes me want to—it’s the time he’s spent here with my friends. It’s in the way he’s joked, smiled, left me to my devices of moping, pouting, and moping some more. Even when I tried to initiate contact with him, touching his hand, his face…the way he reacted was with trepidation and insecurity regarding my intentions. Well, let’s see how this goes because I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

If I don’t take the first step off the ledge, I’ll never know.

Walking over to Julia at the other side of the table, I bend down low to talk to her. Not that she’ll be quiet and private, but at least I’m not shouting across the table. “Jules. I’m going to head out. I’ll take Chris back to his hotel so you don’t have to worry about him.”

Her eyes light up, which is frightening. “I bet you’re going to head out.” Smirking, she turns her attention back to Rush. She acts as if the decision has been made that I’ll jump his bones. “Just keep him out of the limelight, okay, Ty?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” I tell her before saying my goodbyes to Tessa and Tig.

“Where you going?” Troy asks as he lifts his head, his hangover apparently starting to dull. “It’s early.”

True. These early, Sunday morning brunches usually start at nine and goes until five. It’s only noon.

“I’m taking Chris back to his hotel.”

With his dimples sucked so deep, I swear he should have a hard time swallowing, Troy grins like his devious sister-in-law.

“Quit it, you,” I say, smirking. He’s such a horrible man. If it weren’t for him, seeing me eye fucking Chris from the podium the other night, I wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.

“Yeah, yeah. Call me later. Details will be required.”

“No details,” I say over my shoulder. “And I’ll call you Monday about the luncheon.”

As the rest of my friends say goodbye to Chris, Charlie, in his usual way, is asking Chris for his phone number to keep in touch. Jax asks about getting passes to Indy, and Jim is still apologizing for the lack of sauce on his eggs Benedict. It takes us almost ten more minutes to leave. The delay has me rethinking everything about this. Maybe I should just hail the cab and send him on his way? Maybe we’ll go for coffee at Scaramouche, then I’ll walk him back.

Shit, this isn’t helping my decision-making paradigm.

“Ready?” Chris asks as he’s finally allowed to exit.

Looking at his face, seeing that he’s honest and genuine, I answer with a nod, smiling. Pushing the door open, with a plethora of waves and shouted goodbyes, we leave.

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