Page 14 of Spark
“Yet,” Chloe said, but Tyler shook his head.
“Maybe.Maybe not, though.”
“I’m Esme’s advocate,” she said, her other eyebrow joining the way-up game.“It’s my job to be prepared for whatever might happen.”
He nodded.“Yeah, but there’s a difference between being prepared for what you knowishappening and worrying about whatmighthappen.Getting spun up on the what-ifs will only fry your circuits before you can come up with a strategy to handle the right-now.”
Laughing wasn’t the least expected response she could’ve made, but it was damned close.“Riiiiight.I forgot.You don’t do feelings.”
“Ouch,” Tyler muttered.So, he was practical.It didn’t mean he was dead inside, and it damn sure didn’t mean he was wrong about this.“That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
The edges of her mouth quirked with the smile she was clearly trying to smother, and Christ, he’d missed this.“Tyler, please.My arm could be hanging on by two tendons and you’d be all, ‘Huh.Guess we should put a tourniquet on that and get you to the ED’.”
“That’snotextreme,” he pointed out, partly because it was true and partly because he was a selfish bastard who just wanted to see her cheeks flush.“It’s good strategy.Also, the best option to save your arm and possibly your life.You’re welcome.”
“Thank you for proving my point,” she said dryly.
He played at innocence, blinking at her across the sun-filled front seat of the car.“That I know how to administer proper medical care to catastrophic injuries?”
“That you’re a cyborg.”
A laugh ripped out of him, completely without permission, as he coasted to a stop at a red light.“I’m perfectly human, I assure you.”
“Nope.I’m not buying it,” Chloe said, growing more animated as she turned toward him.“You are always calm.Perfectly composed.Dare I say, cooler than a cucumber.Always.”
“Not always,” Tyler argued—after all, he had to manage his adrenaline on calls just like everyone else.
Chloe, however, wasn’t giving him an inch.“Yes, always.Al.Ways.”She tapped his arm just below the sleeve of his T-shirt with each syllable for emphasis, the contact sending an unexpected sizzle through him once, then again.More.
His heart pounded, even as his brain willed it to slow the fuck down.“Chloe,” he started, but she leaned in closer, wrecking his rational thoughts.More.More.
“No, seriously, Tyler.When have you ever, in the history of ever, lost your cool?Freaked out?Had any sort of feelings you couldn’t control?”
“When we kissed.”
There was a brief instant that passed, the heat signature of Chloe’s fingers still soft on his skin, her eyes impossibly blue and wide, before the words detonated, ruining their fragile truce.
“Right.”She pulled her hand back as if singed, shifting as far from him as she could without climbing out the window, and damn it.Damn it!This was exactly why unchecked emotions were dangerous.
“Chloe, I?—”
“No, I understand.Anyway, this thing with Esme is really complicated.I shouldn’t have barfed it all over you like that.It won’t happen again.”
For a fleeting second, he almost argued.He wanted to listen to her.He wanted to help her help Esme.Hell, hewantedto give in to every emotion he’d stuffed down since he’d kissed her the first time—to kiss her again, and this time not stop.
But then, the driver in the car behind them tapped her horn, a quick, sharpbeepthat dumped Tyler back to reality.
He couldn’t get close to Chloe.Not to listen, not to help her, and definitely not to kiss her.Now more than ever, he needed to keep his distance.
So, he pulled back into traffic and said nothing.
Time,as it turned out, did not make Tyler feel like less of a dickhead.He’d known yesterday’s conversation with Chloe wouldn’t lead to anything good—hell, he’d known he shouldn’t have even waited for her, let alone opened up a can of worms about her feelings, of all fucking things.But he hadn’t counted on it reminding him how easily she made him laugh.Or how much he missed being around her.Or how clearly he remembered the heat of her mouth beneath his and how happily he would’ve drowned in her, and that right there—thatwas the problem with feelings.
They started out harmless, and then, before you knew it, they’d grown so out of control that it was too late.
Better a cyborg than the alternative.Even if Chloe did hate him for it.
A pint glass of beer appeared in front of him, bringing him back to his bar stool at the Crooked Angel in a blink.“Hey,” Ryan said, the grin he normally wore as easily as his bunker gear firmly in place.“You looked like you needed a refill.”
