Chapter 9 #3
"This has nothing to do with Tyler," My voice holds steady. "I'm no longer interested in being your secret boy toy. I'm not interested in being anything to you anymore."
Ryan's face hardens. "So that's it? Eight months, and you're just done because I wanted some privacy?"
"Privacy is closing your bathroom door," The steel in my voice surprises me. "What you wanted was for me to be invisible."
Tyler's hand finds mine, fingers intertwining in silent support. Ryan's eyes track the movement, his expression souring.
"Seriously? A frat boy?" Ryan scoffs. "You think he's actually into you? Guys like him don't date guys like you, Ethan. This is just his experimental phase."
Before I can respond, Tyler speaks, his voice calm but firm. "You don't know anything about me or what I want. But disrespecting Ethan isn't going to make him come back to you."
Ryan's jaw clenches. "Whatever. Have fun being his college experiment." He turns to leave but can't resist one parting shot. "Call me when he dumps you to date some sorority girl."
We watch him stalk away, and I realize I'm still holding Tyler's hand in a death grip. I loosen my fingers. "Sorry about that."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Tyler says, studying my face. "Are you okay?"
"Surprisingly, yes." And I am. Seeing Ryan has produced none of the longing or confusion I'd feared. "That was... easier than I expected."
"You handled him well." Tyler squeezes my hand gently. "Want to skip the frat house? We can go somewhere else."
"No," I decide. "I still want to go. If you do."
The corners of his mouth curve upward. "I do."
We continue our walk, and the tension from the run-in with Ryan gradually goes away as Tyler tells a ridiculous story about his Environmental Ethics professor's obsession with compost. I'm laughing again when we approach the DPO house.
"Tyler?"
We both turn towards the female voice. A tall young woman with perfectly highlighted blonde hair stands on the front lawn, her expression a mix of surprise and something more challenging to read.
She wears expensive-looking jeans and a camel-colored coat that probably costs more than my monthly rent.
Tyler stops abruptly. "Cher. What are you doing here?"
"I was in the area," she says, though her perfectly made-up appearance suggests this isn't a casual drop-by. "I texted you."
"My phone's on silent," Tyler says in a polite but noticeably cooler tone than it has been all evening.
Cher's gaze shifts to me, then to our still-linked hands. Something flashes in her eyes. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"
"Of course. Cher, this is Ethan. Ethan, this is... uh, Cher."
"His girlfriend," she supplies, chin lifting slightly.
"Ex-girlfriend," Tyler corrects immediately.
An uncomfortable silence settles over us. I fight the urge to drop Tyler's hand, reminding myself that I have nothing to feel insecure about. Still, Cher is gorgeous in that effortless way that seems to come naturally to certain women, the kind my mom would describe as "classic beauty."
"Well," I aim for lightness and miss by a mile. "This is turning into quite the evening for reunions."
Cher's perfect eyebrows draw together. "What?"
"Nothing," Tyler intervenes. "Cher, is there something specific you needed? Ethan and I were just heading inside."
"I wanted to talk to you. Privately." She emphasizes the last word with a pointed look at me.
Tyler doesn't budge. "Anything you need to say can be said in front of Ethan."
She sighs dramatically. "Fine. Your mom mentioned you weren't bringing anyone to the charity gala next month, so I thought we could go together. As friends," she adds, though her tone suggests otherwise.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm going to pass."
"Is it because of..." she gestures vaguely in my direction.
"It's because we're not together anymore, Cher. We haven't been for months."
"But your mother—"
"Has to accept that," Tyler finishes firmly. "I'm sorry if she's been telling you otherwise."
Cher's composure cracks slightly. "So what, you're gay now? Is that what this is?"
Tyler's hand tightens around mine. "I'm not going to label myself for your comfort, Cher. But yes, I'm dating Ethan. And no, this isn't a phase or an experiment or whatever you're about to suggest."
She blinks rapidly, and I feel a stab of unexpected sympathy. Whatever she had expected from this confrontation, this clearly isn't it.
"Your mother isn't going to understand this," she says finally.
"That's for me to worry about." Tyler's voice remains calm but firm. "I wish you the best, Cher, I really do. But this conversation is over."
"Well, whatever then. Call me when this experiment is over." She holds the stare for a beat, then spins on her heel and walks away, heels clicking sharply on the pavement. We watch until she reaches a sleek silver car parked across the street and drives off.
Tyler lets out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing as he exhales.
"That was... not how I planned this night to end.
At all." He runs his free hand through his hair, mussing the carefully styled strands.
"I never thought she'd actually show up here like that, especially not after all this time. "
"Two exes in one night," I say, shaking my head with a disbelieving laugh. "I think that's some kind of record." I glance back in the direction Cher's car disappeared, my nurse brain noticing how my pulse is still elevated from the confrontation.
"Your ex is definitely more intimidating than mine. Ryan just sulks and sends passive-aggressive texts, but she looks like she could disembowel someone with those stilettos and not wrinkle her outfit."
My words trail off with a sigh. "I wish everyone would stop calling me an experiment. Like I'm some kind of lab specimen you're poking with a stick to see what happens."
The hurt in those words must be obvious because Tyler's expression softens immediately.
"Hey." His hand reaches out, fingers lacing together with mine.
"You're not an experiment. You're the guy I'm crazy about who happens to be helping me show everyone else I'm not as straight as they thought I was.
I'm not conducting research. That bullshit is all on them. "
"But she said—"
"She's pissed that I chose you over her. She can call it whatever she wants." The conviction in Tyler's voice is reassuring. "What we have isn't some phase or trial run. It's real, and it's ours, and her opinion doesn't change that."
Some of the tension leaves my shoulders, the knot in my chest loosening. "Thanks. I just... sometimes it feels like everyone's waiting to see if this is actually going to stick, you know?"
"I'm really sorry." Tyler's voice drops, and he shifts closer like he wants to shield me from any more hurt.
"Don't be. You handled that well." I squeeze his hand. "And for what it's worth, your mom's charity night with her sounds much worse than Ryan's mask-wearing fiasco."
Tyler bursts out laughing, the tension breaking. "God, we're quite the pair, aren't we?"
"Apparently." I smile up at him. "So, about those notes you needed..."
"Actually, I lied. There are no notes." Tyler looks slightly sheepish. "I just wanted to spend more time with you and thought maybe you'd watch a movie or something."
"You could have just asked."
"Next time, I will." Tyler's expression turns serious. "If there is a next time. After the parade of exes, I wouldn't blame you for running."
The smart choice screams at me from every neuron: slow down, create distance, evaluate the situation clinically. Both our lives are messy disasters waiting to collide. But as I look at Tyler, with his honest eyes and the nervous way he is waiting for my answer, sensible feels overrated.
"I'm not running," I say. "But I am reconsidering that movie."
"Oh." His disappointment is visible.
"Because," I continue, stepping closer, "I'd rather just talk more. Maybe somewhere quieter than a room full of your frat brothers."
The smile that spreads across Tyler's face is worth every moment of the complicated evening.
"I know just the place," he says, tugging me toward the house. "The roof has a great view of campus. And I guarantee no exes will find us there."
As we climb the stairs inside the busy frat house, nodding to various brothers who greet Tyler with easy familiarity and me with curious but friendly smiles, I feel something unfamiliar but welcome unfurling in my chest.
It feels dangerously like hope.