Chapter 12
Ex Marks the Danger Zone
ETHAN
My phone vibrates on my desk, pulling my attention from the anatomy textbook I've been staring at for the last hour. When I see Tyler's name on the screen, my stomach does a completely embarrassing flip.
"Ooooh," Sylas coos from where he's sprawled across my bed. "Is that your frat boy calling?"
Grabbing a highlighter I throw it at him. "Shut up."
"Put it on speaker!" Sylas stage-whispers, sitting up eagerly.
Shooting him a death glare I answer the call. "Hello?"
"Hey," Tyler says, and I swear can hear the smile in his voice. "It's Tyler."
"I know," I'm trying so hard not to sound too pleased. "I have caller ID."
Sylas is making exaggerated kissing faces at me. I turn away from him.
"Right, of course," Tyler says, sounding a little flustered. "So, I was wondering if you're free this Saturday?"
Sylas perks up even more, mouthing "He's asking you out!" while doing some kind of seated victory dance. I swivel my desk chair to face the wall, trying to hide the flush I can feel spreading up my neck.
Is this really happening? Tyler Landis, VP of Delta Psi, wants to be seen with me in public? Again?
My heart does a ridiculous stutter-step that makes it hard for me to focus. After Ryan's stealth dating approach, the idea of being someone's actual date, in daylight, surrounded by people, still feels almost foreign.
"I think so. Why?" I'm trying to sound casual, though my pulse is hammering so loudly I wonder if he can hear it through the phone.
"We're doing our annual car wash fundraiser for the animal shelter," Tyler explains. "It's pretty fun. We wash cars, get soaked, raise money for a good cause..."
Sylas appears next to me, trying to press his ear against the phone.
I push him away, but can't suppress the flutter of excitement in my stomach.
This isn't just a coffee date or a late-night hookup…
this is Tyler inviting me into his world, wanting me around his friends, I think, but I have to be sure. .
"And you want me to... bring a car?" I'm genuinely confused since I don't even own a car. My brain feels like it's short-circuiting between processing that this is happening and trying to form coherent sentences.
"No, I—" There's a pause, and I hear muffled voices in the background.
Sylas mouths, "What's happening?" My shoulders rise and fall since I don’t know yet what is going on, and it’s making me nervous. I can feel my fingers tightening and twitching around the phone.
"I'm inviting you to come help out," Tyler clarifies. "As my, uh, guest."
Something warm blooms in my chest, spreading outward until even my fingertips tingle. Guest is Tyler-speak for date. An official, public, everyone-will-know date.
My body bypasses all logical brain functions and goes straight to shit-eating grin. "Your guest?"
Sylas is practically vibrating with excitement next to me, but for once, his enthusiasm doesn't embarrass me. Because I'm feeling it too… this ridiculous, bubbling happiness that makes me want to do my own victory dance.
"My date," Tyler says more firmly. "If you want to be."
My breath catches, the simple words hitting me with unexpected force. Time seems to suspend as those three words… my date… echo in my head. Not "friend." Not "guest." Not some ambiguous term that leaves room for plausible deniability.
Date. Clear. Unambiguous. Public.
A kaleidoscope of emotions tumbles through me, disbelief that this is happening, a flutter of anxiety at what it means, and underneath everything, this rush of happiness so strong it almost scares me to admit it's there.
After months of Ryan's careful avoidance of any label that might suggest we were together, Tyler's straightforward claim sends electricity racing under my skin, the hairs on the back of my neck even raise. .
Sylas's eyes go wide, and he grabs my arm, squeezing hard enough to bruise. I barely notice the pain, too caught up in the sudden lightness in my chest, like my ribcage can barely contain the strange mixture of terror and elation swirling inside.
Say something, Barrett. He's waiting for an answer.
For a scary second, I worry my voice won't work, that I'll be stuck in this frozen moment, bowled over by what Tyler is offering me. Not just a car wash, not just a casual hangout, but a public acknowledgment. Validation. The opposite of everything I've become accustomed to accepting.
"I'd like that," I say after a moment, trying to sound cool while Sylas silently screams beside me. The words feel inadequate compared to the tidal wave washing through me, but they're all I can manage without revealing just how much this simple clarification means.
"Great! It starts at 10 AM in the parking lot by the student union. We usually go until about 3, but you don't have to stay the whole time if you don't want to."
"I'll be there," I promise. "Should I bring anything?"
There's a pause, and I hear what sounds like several voices in the background.
"Just yourself," Tyler finally says. "We have all the supplies."
He sounds different, strained almost. "Are you okay?" I ask. "You sound weird."
"I'm fine," he says quickly. "Just, uh, multitasking."
"He's surrounded by nosy bros!" a loud voice calls out in the background.
Nearly dropping my phone in surprise. Sylas claps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.
"Please ignore my idiotic ex-best friend," Tyler says, sounding mortified.
I don't try to hide my laugh. "How many guys are listening to our call?"
There's a pause. "Six. No, seven," he corrects.
"Hi Ethan!" several voices call out in a sing-song chorus.
Sylas is now doubled over, silently wheezing with laughter.
"Oh my god," Tyler groans.
"Hi Delta Psi Omega," I'm feeling strangely bold. Then, lowering my voice, I aim for sexy when I ask. "So, a car wash, huh? Does this mean I get to see you in a wet T-shirt or without one?"
Sylas's head snaps up, his expression a mix of shock and admiration. This is the same guy who's watched me accept last-minute cancellations and middle-of-the-night booty calls without complaint for months.
The same friend who's held my hand through countless 'he's just busy' excuses and 'maybe next time' disappointments. His wide eyes clearly say, When did my sweet, accommodating Ethan grow a backbone? I hear whooping in the background on Tyler's end.
"If you're lucky," Tyler replies, his voice dropping in a way that sends heat through my entire body.
"I'll find something lucky to bring with me then," I say, surprising myself with my own boldness. "See you Saturday. Try not to get your brothers too excited before then."
"Too late," he mutters. "See you Saturday."
Hanging up I stare at my phone for a moment, not quite believing what just happened.
"Holy shit," Sylas breathes. "Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"
As I fall back in my chair, a giddy laugh escaping me. "I don't know what came over me."
"Uh, Tyler Landis came over you. Or hopefully will soon." Sylas winks, then dodges as I swat at him. "Seriously, though. 'Does this mean I get to see you without a shirt on?' That was smooth as hell!"
"I don't know where that came from," I feel my cheeks heat up. "It just... slipped out."
"Well, keep letting things slip," Sylas says, sitting back on my bed. "It's working for you."
Spinning in my chair, I process what just happened. "He asked me on a date. An actual, public date. With all his fraternity brothers knowing about it."
"I know," Sylas says. "I was right here for that shocking twist."
"It's just so different from..." My voice trails off.
"From Darth Hideous," Sylas finishes, his expression sobering. "Thank god for that."
Nodding, I try to organize my thoughts. "Tyler's not even hiding it. He called me his date with all his brothers listening."
"That is... unexpected," Sylas admits. "I thought for sure he'd be trying to keep it on the down-low."
"So did I," I say. "I mean, he's only just figuring out he might be bi, right? I thought he'd want to take things slow, keep it private."
"Maybe he's not as conflicted as you thought?" Sylas suggests. "Or maybe he's just really into you."
A small smile that forms at that thought. "Maybe."
Sylas studies me for a moment. "You're really into him, too, aren't you?"
"I don't know what I am," I admit. "I like him. He's sweet and funny and stupidly hot."
"Stupidly hot is right," Sylas mutters. "Those shoulders alone should be illegal."
I throw a pillow at him, but I'm laughing. "I'm trying to be serious here!"
"Fine, fine," he says, hugging the pillow to his chest. "Continue your emotional processing."
Taking a deep breath. "I'm just... cautious. I spent too long with Ryan sneaking around, never acknowledging me publicly, making me feel like his dirty little secret. And now here's Tyler, who's barely even figured out he likes guys and is already more open about it than Ryan ever was."
"That's a good thing, right?"
"It is," I nod. "But what if it's just novelty? What if he's just excited about this new thing and then realizes it's not what he wants? Or what if his fraternity brothers aren't as accepting as they seem?"
Sylas's smile fades, his eyebrows drawing together as his eyes narrow with concern. "Look, you know I'm the last person to trust frat guys. After what happened freshman year..." He shakes his head. "But this seems different. Tyler seems different."
"He does," I voice is soft as I agree.
"But," Sylas holds up a finger, "I still think you should be careful. Not because of Tyler specifically, but because this is all new territory for him. He might not even know what he wants yet."
Nodding, because Sylas is right. "I know. I'm not jumping into anything serious. Just a date. Just seeing where it goes."
"A date where you get to see him wet and shirtless," Sylas points out with a grin. "There are worse ways to spend a Saturday."
Laughter bubbles up, easing the tension from my shoulders. "True."
"And hey," Sylas adds, "at least he's being upfront. At least he's not hiding you or pretending you're just friends when his brothers are around. That's already a huge step up from the Twat-waffle."
"We agreed to stop calling Ryan that." My lips betray me by curving upward anyway.
"Fine. How about that's a huge step up from Testicular Torsion in Human Form." Sylas rolls his eyes. "Better?"
"Much," My voice is so dry.
His expression softens. "For what it's worth, I think you should give this a chance. Not because Tyler is some perfect dream guy, though the man is sculpted like a Greek god, but because you deserve someone proud to be with you. And so far, Tyler seems to be that guy."
His words hit me right in the chest. "You think?"
"I do." Sylas nods. "But if he hurts you, I'll still key his car."
"He doesn't have a car. He rides a motorcycle."
"Then I'll knock it over," Sylas declares. "It'll be very dramatic."
Laughing, I feel lighter than I have in days. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"Indeed," Sylas agrees solemnly. "Now, more importantly, what will you wear to this car wash? Because if you're going to be surrounded by wet frat boys in white t-shirts, you need to bring your A-game."
As Sylas starts digging through my closet, critiquing everything I own, I let myself consider the possibility that this thing with Tyler could work. Maybe it's not just a fleeting experiment for him. Perhaps he really does like me.
And maybe, just maybe, I can let myself like him back without waiting for everything to fall apart.