Page 17 of My Best Friend's Bully

“And Mom, please, no random neighbor’s sons or boys you met at the library. Just you and Dad. Promise?” On more occasions than I can count, my mom has tried to set me up with a nice man, sneaking them over during our family dinners. It’s never worked out. I don’t have the time or the desire to date. Maybe one day, after I’m a doctor, after I’ve accomplished everything I need to.

“But Jordan, how are you ever going to meet somebody when all you do is study?”

“Mom, I love you, but I don’t want to meet anyone. I just want to be a doctor and take care of you and Dad. Now, I have to go, my notes are calling, but I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Bye-bye, hon, we love you.”

After I hang up, I take my plate of lukewarm wings over to the table and dive back into my studies. Every time my mind drifts toward Tyson and the mess I created, I pull out the hardest problem I can find and work it until it’s resolved. I don’t have time for handsome jerks. Not now, notever.

Chapter 9

Tyson

Myalarmblares.Iroll over and turn it off, eyeing the time with blurry eyes. In a way, I’m happy the pilot decided the weather was too rough to fly last night. By the time Jordan caught her ride, it was late anyway. It’s five thirty, and the sun isn’t up yet, but I have a thousand things to get done today, and I need to get back to my penthouse office after my morning run so I can lead the board meeting via video conference. I kick off the sheets and get out of bed, stretching the sleep from my muscles. I check my voice messages as I creep silently down the stairs so as not to rouse FaerieBeast, who will definitely wake up Cole. The little dog thinks she wants to go on my morning runs with me, no matter how many times I explain to her that her short, stubby legs won’t ever be able to keep up.

I continue skipping through voicemails as I set up the coffee maker to do its thing. Several messages piled up before this morning from the night owls working on the launch, but most of them don’t require any response from me. I get lost in a couple emails while the coffee is brewing, and I’m finishing up typing an email to Rebecca when the coffee machine beeps and hisses out its final puffs of boiling hot water.

I pour the piping hot fresh coffee into my mug, and its steam swirls in lazy wisps as I carry it up the carpeted stairs and back to my room. Cole’s house feels homey, but isn’t at all what I expected, with its decorative touches showing a certain amount of feminine input. I can’t help but wonder if Jordan helped him with the interior decorating.

Photos of FaerieBeast dominate the gallery wall in the hallway, but there are a few photos of family, even an old childhood photo of Cole and me. And two of Jordan. Her radiant energy beams from the images. In one, she and Cole appear at the top of an unnamed mountain, her arms wrapped around his waist. In another, she’s looking at the camera from behind a porcelain mug from what looks to be a street side cafe.

Her photo brings back the memory of our kiss, her lips soft against mine, and the way her shyness had melted away when our kiss deepened. And the thought of her body against me causes a slight swell in my groin. I’ve thought about her more than a few times since that night, wondering what her body looks like under those modest sweaters and jeans she wears.

Focus. I pull myself away from the photos and duck back into my room. First things first, I need a workout. It’s been hectic, bouncing back and forth between Cole’s place and the penthouse. And to the hospital. I miss the routine of my home, but Mom needs me here right now. Every time I see her face, pale with stress, I know I’m doing the right thing, even if it means spending time with Cole. Thankfully, I’ve been able to avoid him for the most part, but there have been a few unavoidable interactions in the kitchen or the driveway.

There’s a rustling sound from Cole’s room, so I yank my sweatpants on and pull a thick, gray hoodie down over my head as I down the last swig of coffee from my mug in a single long gulp. Taking the stairs two a time, I breathe a sigh of relief as I sneak out the door just as the sound of his opening door reaches me. Safe, for now.

As I step outside, the air is cold enough to knock the last of the sleepiness out of me. Snow still clings to the trees, frosting the neighborhood in random patterns like the icing on top of one of Mom’s famous cinnamon buns. I set my watch to record my run, pull my beanie down over my ears, and take off down the sidewalk into the hush of the predawn air. After half a mile, my muscles are warm and thoughts of Cole, of Jordan, of work, fade from my mind, leaving me in an all too rare peaceful space.

Tyson

Six miles, and an hour later, I’m back at Cole’s place. My chest tightens, and my runner’s high sinks when I spot his car still parked in the driveway. Sometimes he’s gone to work, or whatever it is he does, by the time I return from my morning run. I consider doing another few miles so I can avoid him, but as soon as I slow to a walk the bitter cold air seeps in. I suck it up and walk inside, where FaerieBeast greets me at the door. I imagine there’s something resentful in the way she snuffles at my hand when I reach down to pet her, like she knows I’ve gone on a walk without her, again.

“I’ll take you out to the park after my meeting. I promise.” I kneel down to give her a scratch under her chin, but she snubs my rub and turns her head, trotting away. I’m pretty sure I’m in the doghouse.

“Oh, hey Ty.” Cole appears in the kitchen doorway, still in his pajamas, hair rumpled from sleep. “How was your run? Isn’t it a little cold out there for that sort of thing?”

He looks past me at the frost glazed window, giving me a mock shiver.

“Weather is no excuse for laziness.” I push past him into the kitchen and pour myself a fresh mug of java. I don’t feel like talking to him, but I want a second cup of coffee enough to bear his company for the moment. “Cut out the junk food and you might have the energy to get out for a run yourself.”

To be fair, Cole doesn’t look like the product of his diet. He’s lean and faintly muscular, and I’m pretty sure he must have some kind of workout routine going on, but I don’t care enough to ask. Maybe it’s just another benefit of being the golden child, free good looks for life.

“Perhaps after a nice big breakfast,” Cole says, following me into the kitchen. He stretches and yawns, pouring himself the last of the coffee from the bottom of the pot. He adds a generous pour of cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar, stirring it with an annoying clinking sound. “Some pancakes, some sausages. Can’t start your day on an empty stomach. Hey, want some breakfast before work? I’ve got some stuff in the fridge.”

“I think I’m good. I intermittent fast. I never eat before noon.” I cringe as I watch him drink his warm coffee milkshake.

“Sounds really awful,” he says with a wince. “Well, I’ve got a light day today. We could get some lunch if you’re down. I don’t have to work until late afternoon. Figured I’d grab a bite and then swing by the hospital to see Dad. Want to join me?”

“Can’t. I have work to do. Some of us have this thing called a work ethic.” The thought of hours spent with Cole alone makes my teeth clench. I’d rather drink ten of his milkshakes.

“Oh, all right.” Cole nods, looking down into his coffee cup. Is he actually disappointed? His naivety is disarming. “Well, Mom is coming by for dinner. Think you’ll be around for that?”

Fuck.I forgot Mom asked me to come for that tonight. My schedule is packed and it’ll be tight getting back from the penthouse in time for dinner, but I promised her, so I’ll figure it out.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” As dreadful as I know it’s going to be.

“That’s great!” Cole lights up with a smile. “I’m going to roast a chicken. Maybe some potatoes. Are you any good in the kitchen? I could always use a hand. Maybe we can make some brownies for dessert. Remember Mom’s brownies?”

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