Chapter 9 #2
Summer, I inwardly grumble. No matter what I do to my hair, no matter how many products I use, the dumb humidity never fails to make my hair go all crazy.
When I open the door, Tyler’s eyes widen. Instead of coming inside, or saying anything, he just stands there, staring at me.
“Is it my hair?” I ask, patting it worriedly. Then I glance down at my worn yoga pants, checking for an unfortunately-placed hole I missed. “Is there a stain? A hole?”
His gaze moves to my pants, and a beat later, his cheeks go slightly pink. “No, your pants are fine.”
“My hair?” I try to gather it back with one hand, silently cursing the cast on the other. “It gets all frizzy when it’s hot. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do to it.”
Tyler closes the distance between us and gently lowers my hand. “Your hair looks great, Mel. You don’t need to pull it back.” He pauses before amending, “Unless it’s bothering you.”
There’s something in his eyes that makes my stomach go all fluttery. The same conflicted feelings I’ve been struggling with for over a week—does he like me as more than a friend? Do I want him to? Am I really ready for anything more than friendship?—prick at me again.
“No, It’s not bothering me,” I reply, for lack of anything better to say. Feeling slightly flustered, I head towards the bed. “Do you want to watch Parks and Rec? The Office? Or what about Ancient Aliens? We haven’t seen that recently.”
“Whatever you like,” Tyler says. He follows me over to the bed and waits for me to climb onto it. As he takes the spot beside me, Oscar leaps onto the mattress, turns in a circle, and flops down at the end of it.
“I’m not sure he likes sharing the bed with me,” Tyler observes. He reaches down to give Oscar’s head a scratch. “He probably wants you all to himself.”
“He’s fine.” I run my hand down Oscar’s back. “And anyway, he loves you. Giver of treats and walk-taker and all that.”
“Giver of treats?” Tyler chuckles.
Laughing, I reply, “I couldn’t think of a better word.”
“It works.” Tyler fluffs the pillows and leans back against the headboard. Then he crosses one leg over the other.
As my gaze moves to his legs, I almost ask him. Almost. But then I remind myself that he’ll tell me when he’s ready, and pushing him before that could potentially mess things up between us.
Without meaning to, I let my attention linger on Tyler’s legs too long. They’re very nice legs, so it’s an innocent mistake. He’s wearing worn jeans that mold to his muscled thighs and hint at a not-insignificant bulge between his legs.
At the thought of it, a needy ache coils deep inside me. My core squeezes, wanting something that hasn’t been a consideration in years.
Then Tyler clears his throat, and I jerk my eyes to his, my face flushing guiltily. “The show,” I blurt. “Ancient Aliens? Ghost Hunters?”
“Mel.” Tyler takes the remote from my hand and sets it to the side.
“Yes?” My cheeks are burning. Glancing around the room, I search for a convenient hole to jump into.
God. I can’t believe he busted me staring at his crotch. What is wrong with me? Have I completely forgotten how to act like a normal person?
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he says. “It just never… seemed like the right time.”
“The right time for what?”
“Actually, that’s not true.” Tyler’s eyes go sad. “I could have said something days ago. I just didn’t want to.”
The sorrow in his gaze takes precedence over my humiliation. “What didn’t you want to tell me?”
I have a pretty good idea of it. Or part of it, at least. But I’m not letting on that I know. Not when it’s clear he’s anxious about telling me.
Tyler takes a deep breath and exhales heavily. “It’s not that I was trying to keep it a secret. I really wasn’t. At first, it just never came up. And then… there was so much other stuff going on. You were hurt, scared… I didn’t want to lay something else on you.”
“You can tell me anything,” I reply quickly. “Don’t worry about it being too much. I can handle it. I know you probably don’t believe me, but—”
“I do.” He takes my hand. “And I know you can handle it.” He sighs again. “It was all me, Mel. If I’m being honest, I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want it to change things.”
“Nothing could, Tyler. I… I like you. A lot. And whatever you have to tell me, it’s not going to change that.”
His gaze drops to his lap before returning to me.
There’s a heavy resignation in his eyes that makes my heart hurt.
“I like you, too, Mel. More than I ever expected to.” Squeezing my hand, he adds, “I didn’t come here with ulterior motives.
I came because I just knew I needed to. I want you to know that. ”
My stomach flutters again. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“I came to help,” he explains. “I didn’t plan… Shit. I knew there was something about you. But being here, getting to know you better… I never imagined feeling this way.”
Hope sparks to life; a tentative flame flickering. I’m afraid to let it catch hold. But I’m afraid of letting it go out, too. “How do you feel?”
His eyes turn a molten gold flecked with bits of emerald. “Like… friends isn’t enough anymore.”
The flame grows stronger. “What would be enough?”
“I’m not sure,” he replies. “For a long time, I thought I’d be single for the rest of my life. I didn’t want anyone else. But meeting you, being around you, touching you… it makes me want more.”
Tyler leans in, and I feel myself being drawn to him. As our faces come closer, my heart skips. Fear wars with excitement. I never thought I’d want this again, either. But now that I’m here, with Tyler… It feels right. Like a split in the road that I’m meant to take.
Our lips are a whisper away when Tyler pulls back. “I’m sorry.”
Disappointment floods through me. “It’s fine,” I whisper, ducking my head.
“No. I want to.” He tilts my chin up. “But you’ve been honest with me. And it’s not fair of me to not do the same.”
Then he leans over and pulls up the leg of his pants, revealing the prosthetic hidden beneath.
My heart bleeds for him as he looks at me uncertainly.
“I lost my leg,” he says quietly. “It’s been over six years now.
I was on an op, and we ended up trapped in a building filled with explosives.
One of them went off, and—” He grimaces.
“My buddy Jeff was killed. Erik—he was one of my teammates—suffered a traumatic brain injury. And my leg was damaged beyond repair.”
“Tyler.” Tears burn behind my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”