Chapter 9 #2
A hostess who can't be older than nineteen leads us to a corner table by a bay window. As we settle in, I notice Tyler waving to the bartender and receiving a warm nod in return.
"You come here a lot?" The cloth napkin unfolds in my hands, clearly having seen better days.
"Since freshman year," Tyler admits. "I was helping with a river cleanup project nearby and stumbled across it. The owner makes the best comfort food in three counties, and it's quiet enough to study."
Glancing around at the eclectic decor, I see mismatched chairs, pottery on shelves, and what appears to be someone's grandmother's collection of decorative plates mounted on one wall.
"It's not exactly what I pictured as your scene."
Tyler raises an eyebrow. "Let me guess. You thought I'd take you to the steakhouse where all the athletes hang out? Or maybe that pizza place where they know the Greek alphabet by heart?"
"Maybe," I admit. "Though I would have given you more credit than that."
"Good. Because I—" Tyler starts, but is interrupted by the arrival of a silver-haired woman in an embroidered apron who slaps her hand on our table with surprising force.
"Tyler Landis!" she yells, her voice carrying the slight rasp of a former smoker. "Where have you been hiding? It's been weeks!"
Tyler's face lights up. "Rosalie, this is Ethan. He's a nursing student at PCU." The pride in his voice as he introduces me warms my cheeks.
Rosalie turns her penetrating gaze on me, sharp eyes taking in every detail. "Well, well. You've been holding out on me. Where have you been hiding this handsome young man?"
Tyler's cheeks turn red. "I haven't been hiding him anywhere. We just recently... met."
"Recently?" Rosalie winks at me conspiratorially. "This boy's been coming here since freshman year. Usually brings his textbooks; never brought a date this pretty before."
"Rosalie," Tyler groans, but there's no real irritation in it.
She pats his cheek affectionately. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you. Much." She turns to me. "What are you drinking, handsome? First one's on the house for anyone who can get this one to take a break from studying."
After Rosalie takes our drink orders and leaves with another knowing wink, I can't help but smile. "She likes you."
"She's like that with everyone."
"No, she's not. The bartender has been giving me suspicious looks since we sat down. I'm being vetted."
Tyler laughs. "Okay, maybe. Her son went to PCU about ten years ago. I helped her set up a new point-of-sale system last year when her old one crashed, so she thinks she owes me. She doesn't."
Oh no, he's hot, smart, and caring. I'm gonna fall so hard if I'm not careful.
"You know how to set up that, too? That's not exactly environmental engineering."
"My roommate freshman year was a computer science major. I picked up a few things." Tyler shrugs as if this were completely normal. "What about you? Any hidden technical talents?"
"I can perfectly time an IV drip without a pump and draw blood from even the most difficult veins," I offer. "But that's less 'hidden talent' and more 'basic job requirement.'"
"I don't know," Tyler leans forward. "The idea of you in scrubs doing medical things is pretty impressive."
"Even with 'Nurse Hottie' scrawled across my back?"
"Especially then," Tyler's eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. "Though I prefer the regular scrubs you wear around campus. The ones that look professional are kinda hot."
Water goes down the wrong way, causing some undignified sputtering. "Wait, you mentioned seeing me before Halloween, but I thought you were just being nice. You actually remember specifics?"
Tyler looks slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, well.
You make an impression. Last semester, you were crossing the quad with three other nursing students.
Blue scrubs, that messenger bag you still carry, and you stopped to help some freshman who'd wiped out on their skateboard. You even had a first aid kit ready."
The memory comes back to me, a freshman who'd taken a nasty fall right before midterms. I'm stunned that Tyler remembers such specific details. "That was... months ago. And I can't believe you noticed the messenger bag."
"It has that 'In Case of Emergency: Watch Grey's Anatomy' patch on it," he says with a grin. "Made me laugh. It's how I first realized you were in nursing."
"So you've been stalking me since last semester?" I tease, secretly thrilled.
"Not stalking. Just..." he searches for the right word, "appreciating. From a distance."
"And yet you never said anything."
"I didn't know how to start that conversation." Tyler absentmindedly traces patterns on the tablecloth. "'Saying 'Hey, I saw you put a Band-Aid on someone once and haven't stopped thinking about you seemed creepy."
Blinking at his honesty. "Huh. Most guys I date have allergic reactions to straightforward communication. Like, anaphylactic-level aversion."
Rosalie returns with our drinks and takes our dinner orders, promising "the best soup you've ever had in your life" and shooting Tyler another wink before departing.
We keep talking, and I loosen up in a way I didn't think would happen. Tyler asks thoughtful questions about my nursing rotations and listens intently as I describe the challenges of my pediatric clinical. He doesn't glaze over when I talk about complicated procedures, unlike Ryan, who always did.
I came here expecting awkward small talk and a polite let-down, possibly with a side of "it was fun, but let's just be friends." Instead, I've spent forty-five minutes discussing the circulatory system with a guy who not only hasn't run screaming, but looks interested.
Who knew that describing IV insertion techniques could be date material? If Sylas could see me now, enthusiastically explaining phlebotomy to a hot guy over soup, he'd never let me hear the end of it.
"What about you?" I ask as our food arrives. "Why environmental engineering? Why water specifically?"
Tyler considers this as he tastes his soup, which is the best I've ever had.
"My dad's construction company worked on a project near a community that had contaminated water.
I was maybe fourteen, tagging along on job sites like I always did in summer.
I remember this woman coming up to the fence with a jar of brown water, asking my dad if his new building was going to fix their tap water, too. "
"What happened?"
"Nothing from us, unfortunately. It wasn't part of our contract. But I couldn't stop thinking about it." Tyler's expression grows serious. "Clean water shouldn't be a luxury, you know? And the solutions exist, we just don't implement them equally."
Studying him across the table, I like what I'm seeing tonight. This fraternity guy with his perfect jawline and unexpectedly deep convictions. "That's... admirable."
Tyler shrugs, seemingly embarrassed by my praise. "It's just something I care about. Like you with nursing."
As dinner progresses, our conversation veers into more personal territory.
"Can I ask you something?" Tyler says, pushing his empty plate aside. "About Ryan?"
Tensing slightly, I nod.
"How long were you together? Really together, not just... whatever he claimed it was."
"Eight months or so.” Huh. Has it really been that long? It already feels like a lifetime ago. “Though he'd probably say we were just 'hanging out' for most of that time.”
Tyler shakes his head. "I don't get it. How could anyone want to keep you a secret?"
The simple sincerity in his voice makes something twist in my chest. "Some people aren't ready to be who they are."
"And what about you?" Tyler asks softly. "Are you ready to be who you are?"
"I've been out since high school,"
"That's not what I meant." His eyes hold mine. "I meant, are you ready to be with someone who isn't ashamed? Who wants to be seen with you? Who thinks you're the best part of their day?"
My throat works against sudden dryness. 'I'd like to find out.' "I'd like to find out."
Tyler's smile could power the entire restaurant. "Good."
As we share a slice of homemade apple pie, served with two forks and a knowing smile from Rosalie, Tyler's foot finds mine under the table, just a light pressure, casual but deliberate. I don't pull away.
"So," Tyler says as we finally prepare to leave. "My brother's band is playing downtown next weekend. Would you want to go? Fair warning, they're terrible in the most entertaining way possible."
"I'd like that," Realizing I mean it.
After Tyler insists on paying, "Next time it can be on you," we step into the cool evening air. The campus is about a fifteen-minute walk, and neither of us suggests getting an Uber.
"Would it be okay if we swing by the house?" Tyler asks as we walk. "I have some notes I need to grab for tomorrow's study group."
"The frat house?" I clarify, a flutter of nervousness returning.
"Yeah. We don't have to stay. Unless you want to, there's a movie night happening, but we could also go somewhere else."
"No, that's fine," I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it.
We are cutting across the east side of campus, deep in conversation about our shared addiction to baking shows, when a familiar voice interrupts us.
"Ethan."
Shit. Shit shit shit.
Turning, I see Ryan, hovering like a dire prognosis, hands jammed into his precious letterman jacket, looking like he's been waiting long enough to be pissed off.
"Ryan," I fight to keep my voice steady. "What are you doing here?"
"I've been trying to reach you," he says, his eyes darting to Tyler, then back to me. "You haven't answered my texts."
"I've been busy."
Ryan takes a step closer. "We need to talk."
"No, we don't," I'm surprised by the firmness in my voice.
Ryan finally acknowledges Tyler with a dismissive glance. "Is this why you've been ignoring me? You moved on to a new model?"
Tyler tenses beside me, but I’m impressed when he remains silent, allowing me to handle this myself.