Page 35 of Can't Help Falling

He did as she said, holding the coat taut as she pulled at the tab of the zipper. But it really was jammed. She grunted in frustration, scowling up at him like this whole thing was his master plan by design or something.

“Oh. Forget it. I’ll just cut the damn thing off.” He took a step away from her.

She tugged him back into place by the zipper of his coat. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll get it. Just—here—” She puffed out an annoyed breath and, to his surprise, slipped one hand inside his coat. There was a dark, warm cavity between his T-shirt and the coat where he was holding out the fabric, so she wasn’t actually touching him, but still, Tyler held his breath as he watched her slender, gorgeous hand disappear inside his clothing.

He fought the urge to clear his throat, instead just holding the coat out like she’d told him. She jiggled the zipper from the inside now and after a tense moment, the zip came free.

Fin stepped back, quickly slipping her hands into the pockets of her own coat. “There.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

By the time Tyler had peeled his coat off and hung it up, he just caught the edge of her face as she turned toward his door. Was he nuts, or were her cheeks slightly pink? Did she get embarrassed? He couldn’t picture it. Frankly, it didn’t seem possible.

“Well. Thanks for babysitting.”

He slid back into his shoes at the same time she did hers.

“What are you doing?”

He blinked at her. “Walking you down to your cab.”

“What cab?”

“The one I called for you.” He held up his phone.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t have to get me a cab. I’ll just take the train. It’s not far.”

“I already called it on my way home. They’ll charge me if I cancel. Just take the cab. You babysat for free.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“What?” Tyler swallowed. He was just trying to be nice by calling a cab. He couldn’t win with this woman!

“She’s fourteen. She’ll chop your head off for calling it babysitting.”

“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat. “Any more advice for tonight?”

He bustled her out the door and into the elevator.

“Yes, actually.”

“I’m all ears,” he said exhaustedly, thinking longingly of a hot shower and his laptop in bed while he tapped out his article.

“Don’t go getting super into women’s soccer.”

“What?” The elevator dinged open at the lobby just as he whirled on her. “How did you—”

“Tyler, that one didn’t take a psychic. Kylie was the one who called it. She said, ‘I bet he’s gonna get all into women’s soccer and make us bond over it.’”

“And I’m supposed to heed that? No fourteen-year-olds want to bond. Aren’t I supposed to be forcing her to bond?”

“I don’t know. I just know that she’s expecting you to go all buddy-buddy over soccer, and she’s dreading it. So, my advice is don’t force the issue.”

Tyler was fuming as he followed Fin out onto the sidewalk. He checked his phone and saw that the car was idling out front. He stalked forward, nodded to the driver, and held open the back door for her.

“You’re that mad at me just for trying to give you a heads-up about this?” Fin asked, her fingers gripping the top of the car door that separated them.

“No, Fin. I’m not mad at you. I’m just sick of feeling like a dope for wanting to get to know my sister. It’s pretty much been the most prevalent feeling I’ve had for about two months now.”

She stared at him, her expression inscrutable, but at the very last second, he could have sworn something almost soft passed across her light eyes. She turned too quickly for him to really make it out, then she was sliding into the back seat.

“Dope?” she said, cocking her head at him. “I wouldn’t say dope.”

“Dare I ask what you would say?” he asked dryly.

She bit her bottom lip, a split second of humor in her eyes.

“Goodnight, Tyler.”

He closed the door, shaking his head at her, his jaw clenched against an unexpected smile.

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