Chapter 9
Audrey
“You really suck at this, mama.”
I gasp and snap my head to look up at Tyler.
He’s standing next to me, his thick, muscular arms crossed over his chest, causing them to look even bigger and the veins to pop.
An amused smile quirks his lips as he stares at the scoreboard.
I smack his pec with the back of my hand, and he lets out a deep oof before catching my hand to his chest. He brings our clasped hands down to our sides, and I attempt to jerk my hand away in mock protest.
“I don’t suck. It’s these balls. They’re wonky. Or maybe the pins. I think the pins are old and, I don’t know, don’t fall over right or something.”
He tilts his head to the side with skepticism lining his stupidly handsome face. “They don’t fall over because they’re…old?”
I throw the hand not holding his into the air. “I said I didn’t know. But it isn’t because I’m that bad.”
He presses his lips together and gives me a slow nod. “Okay, well, our food is here, so let’s eat. We can take a little food break before our next game. We won’t count this one. This was just our practice round.”
I roll my eyes but allow him to pull me to the U of benches at the back of our lane.
The food and drinks are laid out on the large coffee table in the middle.
He settles me in the middle of the back bench and sits next to me, our thighs touching.
Tingles travel up the side of my body and swirl around my stomach at the contact.
He gently places a napkin on my lap before handing me my plate and a fork.
“Do you need anything else?” he asks brightly.
I shake my head and take a bite of my salad. Tyler leans back and starts eating his burger.
“Since we’ve established you aren’t a professional bowler, what do you do?”
The salad I’m eating feels like sawdust. I swallow heavily and take a sip of my club soda with vodka to stall.
I don’t really want to tell him I’m a surgeon.
I’ve never tricked someone like this, so I don’t know the protocol of what to disclose and what to lie about.
Why I didn’t already have this answer planned out, I have no idea, since it’s a very logical thing that I should’ve expected he’d ask.
I opt for the next plausible response, aside from the truth. “I’m a librarian.”
He looks surprised, and in an attempt to avoid questions about being a librarian, I rush to ask, “What about you?”
On the ride here, when he had said he had a good job, I had almost said that I knew he did. It took every ounce of self-control to stop that automatic response from slipping out.
“I work at a security company that my cousin and his two friends own. We do event and personal security, and install high-end security systems in homes and businesses.”
I take another bite, and when I finish chewing, I casually ask, “Personal security? Like, bodyguards?”
He nods. “Yeah, but we prefer not to call ourselves that. Sounds less like a 90s movie and more professional.”
I chuckle. “I guess I could see that. How long have you been doing that?”
“I think it’s been about six or seven years now.
My cousin, Jack, made me come work with him when I was getting into trouble when I was in my early twenties.
” A hint of embarrassment slips onto his face.
“When I started, I was a glorified receptionist and ran their errands. I had to work extra hard since I’m the only person there without a background in the military or law enforcement. ”
I stop myself once again from telling him how impressive it is that he did that and is now on a job for a man like my father.
That has to speak to his accomplishments since, from what I can tell, he’s the main person overseeing the security and when he’s out at meetings.
But, of course, I can’t say that, no matter how much I want to reassure him.
Instead, I ask, “Have you been successful?”
Pride replaces the earlier negative feelings when he says, “I have, actually. I just made lead on a very important personal security job for a local business owner.”
Guilt sours the food in my stomach. What’s me using him going to do to his job if I’m successful? He said his cousin owns the company. Would that shield him enough so he doesn’t get fired?
I set my salad aside, no longer hungry. “That’s really amazing, Tyler. I’m so happy for you.”
His smile is infectious, even if I feel a bit queasy. “So, tell me about being a librarian. You obviously love to read, since that’s what you were doing at the coffee shop.”
I breathe out an uncomfortable laugh. “Oh, you know. Just full of books and whispering. Things like that.”
He leans forward and sets his plate on the table. “Which location do you work at?”
“Bellevue.” It slips out before I can stop it. Why the fuck would I tell him the location where my mother and best friend work? Surely, he wouldn’t stop by there. At least I hope he won’t.
“Oh, nice. I live out that way.”
I nod enthusiastically, ready to change the subject before I dig the hole any deeper. “It’s a great area. You ready to play another game? I feel like I could really make a comeback.”
He jumps up, grabbing my hand on the way and tugging me to stand.
The momentum has me tumbling into his solid body, but he easily catches me and balances us while I clutch the sides of his T-shirt.
His hands warm me through my clothes, where one rests on my hip and the other on my lower back.
I stare into his face, my lips parting as his eyes search mine with a little goofy grin.
Arousal flares through me as the hand on my hip tightens, just enough to make me wonder if I imagined it.
I wet my lips, splitting my prayer between wanting him to kiss me and not wanting to risk it.
I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling that him kissing me will be something I could quickly get addicted to.
The hand resting on my lower back moves to my other hip, and disappointment drowns me when he slowly moves me away from him.
He clears his throat before smiling once more. “We should probably start the next game, mama.”
I can’t believe that nickname is growing on me, but somehow when he says it, it feels intimate and affectionate and less cougar-y than I would’ve thought.
I nod and follow him to the ball return, warring with myself about whether I’m making the right choice. With him. With the plan.
Never in my life have I felt so conflicted.
Almost three hours later, Tyler and I are sitting in comfortable silence as he drives me home. This date has been incredible. I’ve never laughed as much with any other man as I did with Tyler.
While Tyler’s young, he has a maturity about him that never had me thinking twice about our age difference, but his youthful sense of humor made the entire evening more enjoyable than I ever thought it would be.
The misery and disappointment starting to creep in are bone deep as I try to determine what the next steps are going to be. This is what I wanted. I needed to get close to Tyler. But I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t think I would like him at all.
Tyler’s deep voice interrupts my panic. “Audrey, I had a great time tonight.”
I swallow hard and force a smile. “I did, too. Thank you so much for planning tonight.”
His eyes cut over to me quickly before going back to the road. “I’d love to see you again sometime, if you’re interested.”
My stomach apparently didn’t get the memo that this is fake and I’m not supposed to feel like this when it flips in anticipation of seeing him again, even before this date is over. “I’m definitely interested.”
In his profile, I see the corner of his lips lift as his hand captures mine, his palm warm and electric as he intertwines our fingers. He pulls me toward him and plants a kiss on the back of my hand before resting our clasped hands on the center console.
Taking a selfish moment to enjoy having this insanely attractive, both inside and out, man wanting to see me again, I slide my other hand over his forearm, letting the zings between us keep me from spiraling. He squeezes my hand in appreciation, and I inhale his masculine scent.
My chest aches at the thought of hurting this man when this is all over.
“Everything’s looking great, Mrs. Perkins. How are you feeling?” I help my elderly patient slip her gown back into place and lie back in the hospital bed. She’s my last post-op check-up for the day, before I spend the next few hours catching up on all my charting.
Mrs. Perkins carefully adjusts her position, and I frown as she winces. “If I’m being honest, I thought I would feel worse, but besides a little pain, I’ve felt pretty good.”
I pat her arm. “Very glad to hear that. I’m going to start the paperwork to get you transferred to a step-down unit. I want you to recover there for a few more days while being monitored by me and your cardiologist. Then we’ll get you home. How does that sound?”
She smiles up at me. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome. Now get some rest. I’ll check in on you once we get you moved.”
I shake her husband’s hand and step out of the room and into the brightly lit hallway.
Even though I couldn’t sleep after Tyler brought me home last night, I’m still riding the high of the whole evening since I allowed myself to push the negative feelings down.
I’ll have to deal with them at some point, but that can be a problem for later.
The only thing that would’ve made it better is if he had kissed me when he dropped me off. It was obvious he wanted to do it as much as I wanted him to, but he held back.
Or maybe it was for the best that he didn’t.
My stomach jumps when my phone vibrates in the pocket of my scrubs. He texted me a few hours ago, but I haven’t heard from him since, and I haven’t responded.
I let out a sigh when I see it’s Jennifer. I know exactly why she’s calling. I’ve been ignoring her texts asking about the date. It feels wrong to tell her how much I enjoyed it, knowing there’s no future for us once he finds out what I’m doing.
I connect the call. “Hello, Jennifer.”
“Bitch, I know you’ve been avoiding me.”
Walking down the hallway toward the stairs, I reply, “I haven’t been avoiding you. I had to be at the hospital early.” That’s only a partial lie. I could’ve answered her text, but I did have to be here early this morning. Plus, I’ve been busy making my rounds.
“Whatever…so, how was it? You need to tell me everything.”
I chuckle as I jog down the stairs. “Well, I don’t have time to tell you everything. But I can tell you that it was a really great date.”
Her squeal has me jerking it away from my ear.
“Sheesh, that was loud.”
“Sorry, I’m just so excited for you.”
“I know, I am, too.” Even if my emotions are much more complex than simple exhilaration, there’s no denying that there’s a healthy dose of that mixed in. I wasn’t expecting to like Tyler as much as I do.
“So when are you seeing him again?”
I enter my office and close the door behind me.
Dropping into my chair, I sigh. “I don’t know.
He texted me earlier this morning to ask me what days I’m available, but I haven’t texted him back yet.
” Picking at the bottom of my scrub top, anxiety plagues me.
Not only does the thought of seeing him again make me nervous, but so does the thought of not seeing him again.
It’s really a no-win, especially when I have even more lies to contend with.
Which brings me to the favor I need to ask of my best friend.
“Also…if a tall, muscular man comes into the library asking for me, can you just tell him I’m on a break or something? ”
The silence from the other end of the phone lasts for so long that I pull the phone away from my ear to check if the call is still connected.
When I put the phone back to my ear, Jennifer yelps, “Why the hell would I do that?”
I rub my forehead to relieve the pressure building. “He, uh, may think I’m a librarian.”
“I feel like I’m not going to like whatever reason you give for lying to this man, whom you supposedly had a great time with, so I’m giving you one pass as your best friend. I’ll lie for you for now, but I will require the full story, eventually.”
“Deal.”
I just hope I don’t have to tell her this story from jail when I’m arrested for stalking and blackmail.