Chapter 21
21
ECHO
Tyler’s apartment door opens almost immediately after I knock. He must have been waiting on the other side. As soon as I lay eyes on him, my breath catches. He’s devastatingly handsome in dark jeans and a blue button-up shirt that makes his eyes appear even more piercing than usual.
He’s shaved, and when he leans forward—slowly, carefully—to kiss my cheek, the scent of menthol lingers on his skin.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask.
He steps past me and locks his door. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight.”
“Me too.” Well, that and fearing it in equal measure.
I’ve spent several days weighing my options, and after an appointment with Dr. Rodriguez yesterday, I’m more confident in my decision. Now, I just have to tell him, and hope that I’m not blindsided by one of his secrets in the future.
I haven’t taken a risk in years. Not really. But now, I’m ready to take the leap. I just have to hope he’s going to catch me.
We walk down the stairs together and out to my car. He’d offered to drive, but if our relationship is going to be at all equal, then I need to be comfortable having him in my space. I also need to stop being so self-conscious about the difference in the value of our possessions. My car may not be fancy, but I have nothing to be ashamed of.
“Where are we going?” Tyler asks as he gets into the passenger side.
I slide onto the driver’s seat, shut the door, and start the engine. “A little Italian restaurant a couple of miles from here. Francesca’s. Have you been before?”
“No, but I love Italian.”
I pull out onto the road. “Who wouldn’t? They make pasta and pizza.”
He groans. “I’m going to have to skate extra hard tomorrow. Worth it, though.”
“I hope so.” I squeeze the steering wheel as nerves crowd my stomach. He’s been telling me since our first encounter that he wants me back, and I’m finally ready to give him that chance.
Please don’t mess it up.
I navigate to Francesca’s. There are no parking spots outside, but I find one on the next block, and we walk back to the restaurant. My hand brushes his as we move side by side, and I’m tempted to thread our fingers together, but my palms are sweaty, and I don’t want to give away how nervous I am.
When we reach the entrance, I push the door open and step inside. My mouth waters from the rich aroma of tomatoes and pasta. I glance at Tyler, who is studying our surroundings. I wonder what he sees. I’ve been here several times, so I’ve stopped noticing the yellow walls and the chips and scuff marks on the red vinyl floor.
“Table for two?” a waitress asks.
“Yes.” I smile at her. “I have a reservation for Echo Dean.”
She returns my smile. “You’re over here.”
She leads us to a table in the corner nearest the kitchen. Before I have time to sit, Tyler rushes around and pulls my chair out for me. My heart flutters.
I’m making the right decision with him. I know I am.
He sits opposite and rests his massive hands on the red-and-white checkered tablecloth.
“Here are your menus.” The waitress hands us each a laminated sheet. “Can I take your drink order?”
“I’ll have a sparkling grape juice, please,” I say.
Tyler requests a Diet Coke.
“I’ll be back in five minutes to take your order.” The waitress leaves.
Tyler looks around once again. “This seems like a nice place. Have you been before?”
“A few times.” I try to scan the menu, but the words all blur together. I’m too anxious to focus properly. Across from me, Tyler is having more success. “See anything you like?”
“It all looks good. What will you get?”
“Margherita, probably.” Considering I know I like it and I can’t concentrate on the menu enough to choose anything else.
“Classic.”
The waitress returns with our drinks and we both order. I get the margherita and Tyler asks for mushroom risotto, presumably because it’s the option that fits most closely into his meal plan.
“So…” I sip my sparkling grape juice, knowing it’s time to get to the point. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided that I want to try a relationship between us again—if you’re still interested.”
His face lights up and he reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Interested isn’t the right word. I need you, Echo.”
I shoot him a look. It’s sweet, but he doesn’t need me, and we both know it. He just really, really wants me, and that’s flattering.
“We have to go slow,” I warn. “Like, very slow, and you have to share any secrets you’re keeping that are relevant to our relationship with me sooner rather than later. I’m not saying right this second, but soon. Can you do that?”
He squeezes my hand. “I’ll be a truthful tortoise. Promise.”
I giggle, his humor breaking the tension. “Thanks.”
“You deserve the best.”
I wet my lips, remembering the other thing I need to tell him. “Um, you’ll need to be patient with me about the physical stuff too. I know we’ve kinda crossed some lines there already, but I don’t know when I’ll be ready to go all the way. Or if I ever will.”
His expression creases with understanding, and I’m grateful for it. I couldn’t have handled pity.
“Baby, I’ve been waiting for you for years. I can wait a while longer. Even if there are some things you’re never ready for, I’ll be happy just to have you.”
A warm glow suffuses me. He knows just what to say to make me feel better. God, I hope he’s being honest.
Our dinner arrives, and we dig in. I offer him a slice of pizza, and he swaps me a little of his risotto.
“It’s good,” I admit. “But it’s not pizza.”
He folds up the last bite of his slice of pizza and stuffs it in his mouth. “S’great pizza.”
I can’t help being charmed by him. He never completely lost the shadows beneath his eyes when we were together years ago. He wouldn’t have let go enough to act like a goof. But now, he doesn’t seem to be wound as tightly. I wonder if it’s the loss of his dad that has made it possible, or something else.
When our meal is done, we order a tiramisu with two spoons. Tyler shifts around the table, sitting beside me so we can share the dessert more easily. I eat most of it, but he has a few mouthfuls, and the noises of appreciation he makes are sinful. His body heat radiates toward me and it’s all I can do not to lean into him.
“I got you something,” he says as he pushes the empty dessert plate away.
“You didn’t have to do that. You know you don’t actually have to buy my affection, right?” That may have been his experience with others, but I hope he knows that isn’t necessary with me.
He raises himself off the chair and reaches into his back pocket to withdraw a folded sheet of paper. “I wanted to.”
He passes it to me, and I promptly unfold it and scan the text.
The star at the coordinates…
Raising my eyes to his, I frown. “What is this?”
He glances at the tabletop, his cheeks coloring. “I named a star after you, since you’ve always been my shooting star, lighting up the darkness.”
Emotions riot in my chest, tumbling over each other so rapidly, I can’t recognize them all. Wonder, shock, confusion, and something else I can’t put my finger on. This is an over-the-top gesture, but it’s so him. My eyes prickle, and I squeeze them shut.
“Go big or go home?” I joke, opening my eyes again, unable to think of anything appropriate to say.
He shrugs awkwardly. “It’s probably a scam, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Maybe one day we could use the astronomy department’s telescope to check it out.”
“That would be amazing.” I clutch the paper to my chest. “Thank you, Ty. I can’t believe you did this.”
He named a star after me.
A literal heavenly body.
I read the certificate again. Even if it is a scam, it’s a romantic one, and it reminds me of how things used to be between us. Of how he used to look at me and make me feel like the only person in the world.
His star.
“I love it.” Another swell of emotion clogs my throat and I do my best not to tear up.
He clears his own throat, perhaps also choked up. “Good.”
At that moment, the waitress interrupts to ask if we’d like coffee. We both turn her down.
“That must be our cue to sort out the bill,” Tyler says.
“I’ll get it,” I tell him.
He stiffens, and I can see he doesn’t like the idea, but if we’re going to have an equal relationship, he needs to let me play my part. For a moment, it looks as if he might protest, but then he sighs.
“Only if I pay the tip.”
I beam. “Deal.”
We pay, and I drive him home. When I park outside, I leave the engine going, assuming he’ll jump out and head back in, but he doesn’t move.
“Will you come in?” he asks. “I can make you a nightcap.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Does he mean an actual nightcap or is that code for something else?
“How about a hot chocolate?” he suggests.
I hesitate, torn between accepting and keeping up another barrier between us. But when I allow myself to think about what I actually want, I know I’m not ready to say goodnight yet.
“Okay,” I say.
His answering smile is beautiful. “You won’t regret it.”
I hope he’s right.
I stop the car, and we both get out and take the stairs to his apartment. He hurries ahead, while I puff along behind him, too full of good food to be bouncing up stairs.
He unlocks the door and goes straight to the kitchen. I watch as he starts up his coffee maker and prepares two hot chocolates.
“Marshmallows?” he asks.
“Of course.”
We sit side by side on his sofa while we drink. The hot chocolate is frothy and rich, and the company is even better, though we don’t speak much. When my mug is empty, I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I’m so warm and comfortable that it would be easy to fall asleep here.
He puts his arm around me and shifts me so that I’m lying against his chest, while he rests his head on the arm of the sofa. I tilt my face up and kiss his cheek. Contentedness settles into my bones.
I must doze off because a while later, Tyler gently shakes me awake.
“Echo,” he murmurs.
Reluctantly, I blink against the brightness of the overhead lights. “What?”
“It’s time to get you home,” he says. “Or would you rather sleep on the sofa?”
I would’ve been happy sleeping exactly where I was, but for some reason, he felt the need to disturb me.
I sit up, hoping to clear my sleep-addled mind. “I’ll go home.”
He shimmies around until he’s sitting beside me with his feet on the floor. “You’re welcome to stay here if you’d like. I just don’t want to take advantage of the fact you’re worn out.”
“That’s sweet of you.” I appreciate that he’s being straightforward with me rather than pressing his advantage while he can. Honestly, I didn’t expect that. Perhaps I should stop judging him so harshly and stop expecting the worst. The fact is, Tyler isn’t the person I thought I hated. That guy was never real.
I lean over and kiss him chastely. He returns the pressure but doesn’t take the kiss further. It’s reassuring, but a pulse of want beats in my core.
I gasp. I haven’t experienced physical desire for a person since…well, since I was with him.
Even though Tyler and I have proved I can bring myself pleasure, I fear that being with an actual person would be different. I press closer to him and dip my tongue between his lips. His hand slides around my waist, leaving a trail of shivering, needy skin behind it.
I can’t get enough of this feeling.
I deepen the kiss, tasting the chocolate on his tongue, along with a hint of coffee from our dessert earlier in the evening. He cups my face with his free hand, and I lean into his touch.
But then he pulls away. Blue eyes with blown-out pupils gaze down at me, and his chest heaves. His thumb brushes across my lower lip, and I bite the tip of it softly.
“We should stop.” His voice is ragged. “We’re taking it slow, remember?”
Frustration zaps through me. Why did I say that? I can’t even remember now.
“But I want…” I trail off. “It feels so good, Ty. Just a little more. Please.”
He groans, his eyelashes fluttering as he looks at the ceiling. “Fuck. How am I supposed to say no to you?”
“You don’t?” My tone is hopeful.
He moves his face closer to mine, crushing the tips of our noses together. “Stop me the second something doesn’t feel good to you anymore.”
I grin, satisfaction racing through me. “I will.”
He kisses me again, but then eases off, letting me control the rhythm of our kiss. I push him back onto the sofa and straddle him, but keep my lower body apart from his. No matter how lost in desire I am, I don’t think I could handle feeling his erection against my pussy.
We take our time, rediscovering each other with our mouths. I learn what makes him groan, and he breathes me in as if I’m oxygen.
I grab the hem of his shirt. “Can I take this off?”
He nods, and I undo his buttons, my fingers fumbling. He doesn’t rush me, just lies there and waits for me to finish. I push his shirt aside and run my hands down his muscular chest. There’s a tattoo just beneath his collarbone on one side and I trace it with my fingers. An eagle.
He lifts himself up and we slide his shirt off, revealing the tattooed left arm that I’d noticed but never been brave enough to study up close. He must have had the work done after he left home, because I can’t imagine his father would have been pleased about it.
Among the art, which is intricately designed and spans from his shoulder to his wrist, I make out another bird with feathers falling from its wings.
“I love this,” I breathe, but then something else catches my attention. There, on his hip, is a small tattoo of a shooting star. “Oh, Tyler. Is that…?”