Page 22 of Friend Me

“I need to put Marlee to bed.” And he actually waggled his eyebrows in Cooper’s direction. “Big day tomorrow.”

I glanced at Cooper. His own heavy eyebrows arched. “Good-night. See you tomorrow.”

Damn.Aside from the eyebrow-arch, he was unfazed.

As we turned away, Tyler whispered in my ear, “Okay if I touch your hip?”

Was this part of the fake date? Or was he being my friend and keeping me from falling? Everything had blurred at the edges. “Um…okay.”

His hand slid from my shoulder to the small of my back, where he paused. The alcohol must have screwed with my nerve endings because a tingly trail of sparks followed his hand to where it came to rest on the upper swell of my ass. He guided me between the tables toward the door as if he touched me like that every day.

“Okay?” he murmured in my ear, his warm breath making goose bumps pop up on my neck.

“That’s not my hip,” I whispered.

He looked back over his shoulder. “I think it worked, though. He’s staring at your ass.”

Probably because it was glowing from the tingles Tyler’s touch had created. It had been too long—three years—since I’d let anyone get this close.

The whole situation was weird. I’d gone out with guy friends before, including Tyler. Baseball games, bars, even a fancy-dress fundraiser with Jackson once. But I’d never fake-dated anyone. Were we doing it right? It felt right—physically—since my skin did a happy dance whenever Tyler touched me. But deeper inside, past my tingling nerve endings, it felt wrong. Even if it worked and Cooper told me he and Jamila were only friends and he could love me, would I come to regret the lie I’d told to push him along?

When the restaurant door shut behind us, I stepped away. Or tried to. When I left the safety of Tyler’s support, I bumped up against the wall. He reached for me but stopped when I held up a hand and remained standing, propped up by the wall.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m good.” Holding on to the rail, I trapped my tongue between my teeth and picked my way up the stairs.Stupid wine. Stupid heels.

I managed to stay upright and crossed the tasting room to the door, which he opened for me with a flourish. Outside, I took a deep gulp of the fresh night air to sober up. It didn’t work. Without Tyler’s support or my new best friend, the wall, the horizon tipped and I wobbled in my heels.

“Gotta sit.” Not caring about dirt on my consignment-store dress, I sank to the top step of the porch.

“You okay?” The step shook when Tyler flopped down on it.

“I’m more of a beer girl. That wine went straight to my head.” I looked up at the stars to ground myself and spotted Pegasus. Its diamond shape reminded me of something we’d talked about earlier.

“So your brother’s a pro baseball player? Why didn’t I know that?”

I turned my gaze away from the sky just in time to see his jaw harden. “I don’t talk about my family a lot.”

“Oh.” I rubbed his arm. “Sorry I brought it up. Did you play a sport, too?”

He leaned into my touch. “Nah. I mean, I liked playing with my brothers. And on my high-school teams. But once I started programming, I knew that was it for me. Getting a job at Synergy, working with Jay, that was a dream come true. My version of the Olympics.”

“I’m sure your family is proud of you, too. You’re a star programmer at a fast-growing company. You’ve done well for yourself.”

One corner of his mouth tightened. “It’s not easy being the geek in a family of athletes. Sports are a lot easier to understand than software.” He sipped his wine. “Didn’t help that I told my brother to finish his degree before going into the draft.”

Oh.

Sure, Dad nagged at me for not reaching my potential, but he’d never compared me to anyone else. He’d have supported me even if I’d had a superstar sibling. And he’d ridden me hard to finish my degree, even after Jackson had hired me.

“Iunderstand software. And I know you’re killing it at Synergy. Do you think you’ll stay for a while?” Programmers in the Bay Area tended to be transient, scrambling up the salary ladder.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine wanting to leave.”

“Good. I still think you should apply for that manager position.”

He ducked his head. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot more to learn about software before I start telling other people what to do. But what about you? Ever thought about coming to join us on the fourth floor?”

Of course I had. But programming in an official capacity meant less flexible hours. “Can’t. Gotta get home to Dad.”

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