Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)(10)
“I’ll hang around for a bit. It’ll be a good chance to get to know more people from Boyd.” That Tyler happens to be one of them is merely a coincidence.
He opens his mouth to say something and a quiet knock at the front door cuts him off. It’s quarter after seven, which means Abby is more than twenty minutes early picking me up for our eight am spin class. She was also supposed to text, not get out of her car to retrieve me.
“That’ll be for me,” I tell him, wishing I knew what he was about to say.
Tyler heads back downstairs with his coffee while I go to the entry to let in my incredibly nosy, incredibly sneaky friend. When I bailed on unpacking the other night—because let’s face it, that was bound to happen—I ended up at her place being interrogated over White Claws before we went to XS. She wanted to know Tyler’s life story. Unfortunately, I had little insight to offer. So far, he’s no less mysterious than when he was Hades.
“This isn’t a date, Abbs. You don’t have to pick me up at the door.” I hold it open for her, ushering her inside. Because she’s ahead of schedule, I’m not ready to leave yet. I suspect that was by design.
She cranes her neck, searching the house for signs of Tyler, not even attempting to be discreet about it. I silently mouth “he’s downstairs,” pointing to the basement, eliciting a dramatic pout from her in response.
A few minutes later, we’re out the door and her curiosity remains unsatisfied. The front door slams shut behind us, and I wince at the racket, knowing Chase and Dallas are still asleep upstairs. I’m not used to their house yet. Unlike my old apartment, where I had to drag the door shut with all my strength, this one closes itself with the force of a hurricane wind.
“I can’t believe you’re living with Hades,” Abby screeches, pulling on my arm through my coat. Even with us outside, it’s entirely possible it was loud enough for Tyler to hear. Or for the entire block to hear, for that matter.
“His name is Tyler.” A frigid gust of wind kicks up as I climb into her white Range Rover, issuing a brutal reminder I still need to hit the mall for a proper winter coat. “And it’s temporary.”
“It’s a live-in booty call, Sera. Think of how convenient that could be.”
I cross my legs in the passenger seat, trying to ignore the way my body eagerly responds to her suggestion. “That would be a terrible idea.”
“Please. You told me all about what happened in that bathroom. With chemistry like that, you two are totally going to fuck again.” She throws the SUV into reverse, and the rear tires fishtail as she pulls onto the street.
“Doubtful. The only thing Tyler seemed to care about was making sure we don’t tell Chase.” I was in full agreement because I have no interest in him becoming even more overprotective than he already is. I’m not even sure what he’d do if he found out. Send me to a hotel? Stand guard outside my bedroom? String a little bell along the top of my door?
Other than the brother issue, Tyler seemed completely unfazed when he learned my identity. Like our bathroom hookup wasn’t memorable or noteworthy at all. While that bruises my ego a little, maybe it’s ultimately a good thing. It means it’ll be easier to move on without any awkwardness.
Though if I keep drooling over him in the kitchen, it might remain awkward no matter what.
“If anything,” I add, “I should find someone else to distract me from him.” Entertainment in the form of another warm, willing male would get me out of the house, keep me occupied, and most importantly, take my mind off Tyler. It’s a solid enough plan. Unfortunately, I have zero desire to follow through with it—especially after seeing him shirtless in the kitchen.
Abby laughs. “Come to our next mixer and we can make that happen.”
For some reason, the offer doesn’t sound as appealing as it usually would.
She tugs off her knit purple beanie, freeing her unruly copper curls, and launches into an update on her love life. She’s caught in the middle of the most complicated love triangle I’ve ever heard. Or maybe it’s a love quadrangle? Love square? There’s a hefty amount of history between all of the parties involved, and I could use a flow chart to help keep it straight.
When she wraps up her story, she remarks, “You seem off today.”
I feel her gaze on me as I look out the window, watching the snow-covered trees fly by in a blur. “I’m okay.”
In truth, I’m thinking about my mom. They caught her cancer early and she’s expected to make a full recovery, but it’s hard not to worry. Since they live over an hour away, my stepfather Rick has been taking her to chemotherapy and I’ve been receiving regular updates. I’ll be coming to her next follow-up appointment later this month and attending as many as I can after that. Maybe that way, I’ll at least feel like I’m doing something to help.
Abby barrels toward a red light and I claw at the seat nervously, my gel nails digging into luxury leather. Her SUV skids for a few feet before coming to a stop halfway into the crosswalk. It snowed again last night, and the plows haven’t come by yet. Given that she drives like a speed demon even in the poorest of conditions, I’m rethinking my decision to carpool to the gym.
The rest of our drive goes much the same. I exhale a sigh of relief as she veers into a parking stall, marking an end to our frightening journey.