Page 13 of Butterfly

Tyler drops my luggage in a corner behind the sofa and checks the room with a sniper’s attitude. “Do you need anything? Groceries? Drugs?”

I prop myself against the sofa. “I’m fine.”

With a few long strides, he crosses the sitting room and reaches the kitchen area. “Your fridge is empty,” he says, head stuck in the fridge. He opens the pantry. “Canned chickpeas? Is that all? The hell, girl?”

I yawn. Can’t help it. My eyelids are shutting down. He scowls at me as if I told him I wanted to pull his teeth off with a rusty pair of pliers. He means well. He’s bossy, but he means well.

“There’s a grocery shop that sells fresh veggies right around the corner,” I say. This is London. I’m not going to starve for crying out loud.

He shuts the fridge door and walks over to me with that warrior gait that means business. “I don’t want to see you at the clinic until you’re fully recovered, understood?” He jabs a finger at me. “Take all the time you need.”

“I will.” I massage my eyes.

The scowl vanishes. “Why don’t you come with me? Phoebe will be thrilled to have you, and you’ll have company.”

“Tyler.” I put a hand on his arm. “I’m fine. I promise, if I’m in trouble, I’ll call.”

“That would be unusual for you.” He folds his hands over mine. “Zoe doesn’t wake up at night. You can sleep in the guest room next to the nursery.”

Do I want to scream my lungs out when I get my nightmares in Tyler’s house? No, thanks. I’d rather be in my bedroom, in a familiar place than in his house. I had already humiliated myself in front of Alex. Now I just want to sleep and be alone. “I want to stay here. But thanks.”

A tendon in his neck stands out. If I know him well, he’s one breath away from throwing me over his shoulder and dragging me to his home, caveman style. “I don’t like leaving you alone while you’re injured.”

I ball a fist on my hip. “Trust me, that’s what I want.”

He grits his teeth. It’s not a pretty sight.

“Tyler.” An ache starts to pound in my head. “Thank you, but I can take care of myself. Go home to your family. Phoebe and Zoe must be anxious to see you again.”

Under the beard, his jaw works. “Keep your phone close. I’m going to call you later.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m planning to collapse on the bed and sleep for a few hours. I won’t hear the phone. Please don’t barge here. I’ll call you when I wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He scratches his chin. “Was I too much of a bastard to that fancy movie star?”

I shrug. “Just your usual bastard self.”

A one-sided grin pulls up a corner of his mouth. He looks like a serial killer about to choose his next victim. “He’s a big guy, but I can take him if he harasses you.”

It’s my turn to jab a finger at him. “If you bruise his face, he’ll probably sue your arse, and then I’ll be without a job.”

He barks a laugh and gives me a bear hug that makes me wince. “Hell, sorry.” He releases me and pats my shoulder. “He seemed worried about you though.”

“I don’t know. He’s a good actor, after all.” Yes, but he sounded honest, too. “He can’t be that worried. He doesn’t know me.” No, but something happened on that plane. I rub a spot in my chest that aches a little since Alex and I said our goodbyes in front of the sliding doors. “I don’t think I’ll ever see him again, so it doesn’t matter.” Another yawn escapes me.

His big hand on my shoulder weighs me down. “I have to go to my ladies, and you need rest. Take care, and call.” He fires me a warning glare. Only dogs and cats don’t get intimidated by his gruff look.

“Thank you.” I hug him. He touches my back, causing me to stiffen. A phantom pain slices through me, and I’m too tired to bottle up my emotions. Tears threaten to spill, so I limp away from him before the storm of emotions erupts. “I’m knackered.”

His gaze narrows in a ‘you don’t bloody fool me’ way that chills me. “Talk soon.”

“Good night.”

The sound of his footsteps fades as he stomps down the stairs of the building, leaving me relieved and lonely at the same time. The moment I’m alone, I take out the piece of paper from my pocket. There’s no name, only Alex’s number written in elegant but strong strokes.

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