In the Distance (10 page)

“Yeah,” I echoed. I could feel my own smile spreading across my face. “I’ll text you once I get back to Seattle, but let’s shoot for seven.”

He nodded and I took that as my cue to leave. I’d just turned back around when I heard him call over my shoulder, “Hey. Hope the traffic doesn’t suck donkey balls. Especially the big green ones. I’ve heard they’re nasty.”

My laugh cut through all other noise in the kitchen, earning a scowl from Ethan and a raised eyebrow from Jamie. I flipped Ethan off and patted Jamie on the shoulder as I walked by.

“See you on Sunday, J.”

When I made it to my rental car, I entered the address of the hotel I was staying at into the navigation system and cranked up some satellite radio. Even though the sky above me was cloudy and gray, the weekend suddenly looked a whole lot brighter.

* * *

“After that, Natalie had them eating out of her hands. Literally. I thought she was going to lose a finger for a moment when she took those risotto cheese balls out of the oil.”

Tyler’s laughter died almost before it began. He’d had a huge smile on his face when I’d picked him up, and we’d done nothing but laugh and joke during the car ride here. But I couldn’t help but notice something was wrong.

From the moment he said yes to another dinner, I’d searched online for the perfect place. At $125 a meal, the Chef’s Tasting at Canlis was pricey, but all those years of having a foodie as a best friend in New York had shown me the difference between a good meal and an exceptional one. And if anyone deserved to be treated to a truly exceptional meal, it was Tyler.

There had been no uncomfortable ordering of alcohol or debating over what to order. We’d been shown to our table, and almost immediately after, the courses began showing up. Heirloom tomatoes with mozzarella, watermelon and arugula; prawns sautéed in a garlic lime sauce; truffle fries and roasted cauliflower to go along with the pan-seared chicken and grilled salmon. Each course was expertly portioned and plated to make even the snobbiest gastronome melt in a puddle of orgasmic bliss. Except Tyler looked pretty damn far from blissful. Or orgasmic.

I wasn’t sure if it was me, the conversation, something that had happened at work or if the touchy-feely blond kid had taken Tyler’s thoughts to a place where even the excellent cuisine couldn’t reach him.

“Anyway, the station booked Nat for three more appearances at their Portland studio and at least one at their Seattle station. So, it looks like I’ll be spending a lot more time in the Pacific Northwest over the next few months.”

Tyler paused midbite, then resumed chewing. Not exactly the enthusiastic response I’d hoped for.

He put his fork down, eyes glued on the napkin in his lap. I was about to take it all back when he finally looked at me.

“And will that be a good thing, or an inconvenience?”

The noise around us faded away, leaving only the sound of my heart pounding too loudly in my ears. With a single question, Tyler had brought us to the precipice of whatever was brewing between us. I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye, silently praying the fall I was about to make wouldn’t be a solo journey.

“It’s a good thing, actually. One I’ve been looking forward to for a while now.”
More than I probably should
.

“Oh,” was all Tyler said, but the sudden flush of pink slowly making its way up his neck and cheeks was answer enough.

I picked up my fork and resumed working on the soufflé that had been brought out to cap off our meal. “Guess this just means you’ll have to put up with my annoying ass on your coast more often.”

Tyler tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure Ethan will be thrilled to hear it.”

The comment, just like everything else about this evening, threw me. Did he not want to see me the next time I was in town? If not, what had the past month of texting been? Getting even the shortest sentence out of him tonight had taken every ounce of Pratt “woo ’em and win ‘em” talent I had, and the only reason I could come up with was that Tyler didn’t want to be here.

Knowing when to concede defeat, I turned to find our waiter and signal for the check when I heard Tyler’s voice behind me.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

I narrowed my eyes in both confusion and frustration. “Do what?”

With a small wave of his hand around the dining room, he answered, “This.”

“You mean dinner? Or how I’m trying unsuccessfully to have a conversation with you? Which part of
this
are you referring to, Tyler? Just be honest with me. Do you want to leave?”

I expected him to say yes, nod, something indicating he was done with dinner and me, but instead he surprised me by saying, “No. I just wish you hadn’t done this.”

“Done what?”

He waved around the dining room with exaggerated movements. “This. Canlis. It’s impossible to grow up in Seattle, let alone be in the restaurant industry, and not know how much this meal cost.”

“Is that what this is about? Tyler, I’ve paid a helluva lot more for a much worse meal in New York. Everyone deserves to a splurge every now and then, and this was definitely worth the splurge. I’m not worried about how much this meal cost.”

“But I am. You don’t get it, do you? Then again, if you had a clue, even a small one, how far out of my budget this place is, I wouldn’t have to ask you that.”

And just like that, it all clicked into place. The food I’d been so excited to share with Tyler had done the exact opposite of what I’d intended. Instead of making him feel valued and doted on, I’d made him feel out of place and poor.
Fucking hell
.

“Tyler—”

“It’s all good, but if you don’t mind, I think I am ready to go home.”

Home. Just hearing Tyler say it made me feel nauseated. None of this had gone according to plan. For weeks, I’d looked forward to spending time with him. Not through texts we sent or our brief, covert conversations at Bistro 30, but honest-to-God time with him in person without three thousand miles separating us or being surrounded by a room full of people scrutinizing our every move. No, I didn’t want to take Tyler home, and the thought of driving him back to his apartment right now made me feel even worse.

“I promise I’ll take you home if you want me to. All I ask is you hear me out. I didn’t bring you here to make a statement or show off my AmEx. I brought you here because I wanted to do something special for you. Because you deserve to indulge in a great meal you didn’t have to help prepare. I don’t expect you to pay it back and I certainly never wanted to shove your face in what you can and can’t afford. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Because I’m starting to see you as more than just a friend
,
and that scares the shit out of me.
But God help me
,
I
can’t stop feeling this way.
And I wanted this night to be incredible for you because I know you can’t do this on your own
,
even though you deserve it and so much more.
More than that
,
I
want you to feel the same way
,
too
,
but I’m afraid you won’t without all this because I don’t trust anyone to want me without all the extras that come with dating Trevor
‘
Trustfund’ Pratt.
I
want you to want me for me
,
but I have no clue how to do that.
So all I’m doing is fucking this up even more instead of showing you how much more I want.
With you.

I wasn’t sure what hurt more, Tyler’s refusal to look me in the eye or when he said, “I think I just want to go home now.”

* * *

The ride back to his place was quiet. My thoughts were divided between trying to devise any excuse I could find to delay dropping Tyler off, with the other half already resigned to all the paperwork I had to keep me company in my empty hotel room. Tyler stared out the passenger window. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to see where this could take us. But he was here and I would be heading back to New York tomorrow. Not ideal in the best of situations for maintaining a friendship, let alone anything else. It was downright disastrous for two people who weren’t even on the same page with what they wanted.

I looked across the street at his building again and took a deep breath.
Do not fuck this up.
Do
not
fuck this up.

“I know I screwed up tonight. I seem to do that every time I’m with you. But I want you to know there was never an ulterior motive or agenda in choosing Canlis except that I thought it would make you happy.”

Tyler shifted in his seat but continued looking out the window.

“I’m not a moron, Tyler. I know how much a sous-chef makes, especially one who’s also paying for culinary school. All I ask is for you try to remember when I first met Jamie, he didn’t have a dime to his name. Actually, he didn’t have a dime to his name until he worked his way into the head chef position at Cielo. I’m not saying you’re not justified in feeling out of place and a little put-out about the choice of restaurants, but do you honestly think I’m so shallow that something like how much you make matters to me? If you’ll remember, I asked you to go to dinner with me. That means I enthusiastically, and with full knowledge of the menu and its prices, picked the restaurant. Not because I wanted to show off how much I’ve still got in my trust fund, but because I wanted to see you smile when you finally got a chance to enjoy good food that you didn’t have to spend hours preparing.”

For a full minute, he said nothing. I was resigned to chalking tonight up to another failure when he turned from the window and locked eyes with me. The green glow of the console lights allowed me to see a range of emotions play out over his face. He was the same Tyler I’d met over a year ago, but somewhere along the way, I’d stopped thinking of him as Ethan’s and Jamie’s adopted kid brother and sous-chef. Instead, he was simply Tyler, with those changeable hazel eyes and those lips I’d been aching to taste all night. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel to keep myself from moving closer to him, repeating the mantra playing on a loop in my brain.
Do not fuck this up any more than it is.
Do not fuck this up any more than it is.
Do
not—

“Jamie sent some of that vegetable hash home with me last night.”

“Vegetable hash?” My brain struggled to make sense of what he was saying.

He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded slowly. My eyes drifted to his mouth, and the mantra playing over and over in my head got louder.

“The one you said wasn’t a crowd-pleaser.”

What the hell?
The dinner had ended disastrously and now he wanted to talk about Jamie’s vegetable hash?

“Okaaaay. So I assume it actually ended up being a crowd-pleaser after all?”

Tyler nodded again, his teeth worrying that damn lower lip again. Instead of leaping across the seat to free that lip with my own teeth, I gripped the steering wheel harder and stared out the front windshield, waiting for whatever this was to suddenly make sense in my now-completely fritzed brain.

When I thought I couldn’t take the silence between us anymore, Tyler cleared his throat. “You wanna come up and try some?”

A million questions raced through my head, but only one mattered.
If I say yes
,
how badly will I fuck this up again?

I wanted to scream in frustration when I heard the sound of the seat buckle being released and the door unlocked. With his back to me, he murmured, “No worries. I know you’re tired from the studio and being on the road. Get some rest and have a good flight back tomorrow.”

“Tyler.”

“It’s all good. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, anyway.”

“Tyler, answer me one question.”

When he didn’t turn around, I unclenched my fingers from the steering wheel and reached out, tugging gently on his shoulder. I had one chance to get this right.

“Tell me why you want me to come up. If it’s about payback for dinner or getting back at Ethan for making an ass out of himself about us spending time together, then no. I can’t come up.”

“But?”

The confusion in his voice shattered every ounce of willpower I had left.

“But, if you want me to come up so we can enjoy what’s left of the evening, then yes.”

I took a deep breath as I watched Tyler make up his mind, my hope slipping away, when he finally looked at me and said, “I want you to come up. Not because of anything or anyone else, but because I don’t want you to leave.” Tyler blurted out.

I couldn’t contain my smile when those irresistible hazel eyes were back on me. Unable to stop myself, I slid my hand across his shoulder to cup the back of his neck. “I’d love to.”

Chapter Thirteen

Tyler

Each step we took brought us closer to my apartment door. I hadn’t been thinking when I’d blurted out that there was vegetable hash sitting in my fridge. Actually, the only thing I’d been thinking of since we walked out of Canlis was I didn’t want it to be over. For a solid month, I’d regretted freaking out when Trevor had dropped me off last month. Then I’d freaked out, again, at dinner, bringing the entire evening to a screeching halt. Not exactly the way I’d thought the evening would go down. When I was sitting in the car listening to Trevor apologize for taking me to an incredible restaurant that anyone in their right mind would want to go to, I’d realized what an ass I’d been. Which brought us to where we were now, with the same question banging around in my brain. What in the hell was I doing?

My apartment had to be a hellhole compared to where Trevor lived. Dinner at Canlis had proved that. And even though I could have stayed with Enrique and Flora for as long as it took me to get on my feet, Ethan had offered his apartment. The rent was obscenely low, so low I knew—but had never confirmed—that Ethan and Jamie were most likely covering some of it. They’d both denied it, but even I knew they treated me more like a little brother than an employee. I’d argued and tried to convince them both I could find a cheaper place, but Ethan had ended the discussion with, “
Look
,
the apartment’s seen better days
,
but the lease is paid in full for the next twelve months.
I
refuse to let it go to just anyone
,
but Jamie also refuses to move back in here.
Fucking New York ruined his sense of style.
Just think of it as paying it forward.
We’ve all had someone help us when we needed it.
Some day you will
,
too.
Just promise me you won’t get rid of the breakfast table.
” Jamie had jumped in, then, to try to change the topic. Claire had made gagging noises. I’d moved in a week later and kept the table. I ate on the futon.

I paused when we finally reached my door. Tons of excuses ran through my mind, and I couldn’t seem to make myself pull my key out of my pocket and stick it in the door. Just then, Trevor moved from behind me and leaned against the doorjamb.

“I can take a rain check if you’re too tired. I may be a selfish asshole who doesn’t think before he makes reservations, but even I’m not selfish enough to ignore I’m not the only one who worked today.”

I could easily have accepted the excuse, but there was a part of me that wanted to see where this was going. If we ended up being friends once everything was said and done, I’d be fine with it. If things took a different turn and there was more, even a one-night-stand more, I could handle that, too. I wanted this too badly to turn back now. Without answering him, I slipped the key out of my pocket and opened the door.

The apartment was the same as I’d left it two hours ago, but it seemed much shabbier now that someone besides me was here.

I took a deep breath and turned to face the judgment he’d no doubt be trying to cover up right now. His eyes roamed over the entire living space, taking it all in without appearing horrified. Granted it didn’t take long since the apartment wasn’t that big, but it was long enough for him to see, really see, we weren’t—and had never been—in the same league.

“You have no idea how much I wanted a place just like this when I went to college.”

My mouth dropped open, which only caused his smile to widen as he reached out and chucked my chin up.

He looked around again, walking deeper into the apartment as I shut the door behind us. “Seriously. I would have killed for this.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Trevor turned back toward me and laughed. “I love my parents. I really do. They’re awesome people. But when I decided to stay in town and go to NYU, well, let’s just say they didn’t waste any time finding me a place on the Lower East Side.”

I rolled my eyes. “You do know most kids would kill to have that kind of problem.”

His eyes widened. “I swear I didn’t mean it that way. Crap. Yeah, I know. First-World problems, right? It’s just I’d spent the past thirteen years in private school and the last seven of them at a boarding school in Albany, so I guess I just wanted a place that looked more like the ones in the movies. All scruffy and nasty with pizza boxes stacked up in the stairwell.”

This time it was my turn to laugh. Trevor ducked his head, but not before I saw his embarrassment. If I’d thought he was handsome before, in this moment, he was absolutely stunning. I shook my head to clear it of thoughts that I really didn’t need to be thinking right now and made my way into my tiny kitchen. He draped his leather jacket over the back of one of the chairs before joining me.

“Well, there aren’t any pizza boxes in the stairwell, but you’re more than welcome to make yourself comfortable in my so-not-First-World-problem apartment while I heat up the hash.”

He settled his hip against the counter as I set to work getting everything out and warmed up. Without asking, he opened the fridge and pulled out two sodas. Trevor was in my kitchen, making himself at home as if he’d been here countless times instead of just once. It felt good. Unsettling, but good.

When the microwaved dinged, I took down two small plates, dividing the hash between them. “It’s better when you heat it up in the oven, but it takes too long.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

I reached out to hand him the plate, pausing midpass. Everything about tonight had me off balance. Trevor and I were friends. And yet, the more time I spent with him, I desperately wanted for there to be more. Trevor turned to sit at the table, but I nudged his arm and tilted my head toward the futon.

As soon as he was seated, he asked, “Not that I’m complaining, but is there something wrong with your table?”

I muttered, “It was Ethan and Jamie’s. I think, um, I’m pretty sure it was well used before I inherited it.”

Once he stopped laughing, Trevor looked back at the table and shook his head. “I don’t care what I have to do to convince you, but we’re getting you a new table.”

The thought of telling Ethan and Jamie the reason why I was getting a table was almost as funny as Trevor glancing back at the table and wiping his hand on his jeans. When he was somewhat satisfied with the cleanliness of his hand, he picked up his fork and took a bite of the hash. I waited, watching him as his lips closed around the tines. His eyes closed. The cold air in the apartment suddenly felt a lot warmer, and I was thankful for the plate I’d settled on my lap.

He opened his eyes. “Remind me not to give Jamie shit again about his food.”

It took some effort, but I lifted my eyes from his lips. “Crowd-pleaser?”

He nodded and took another bite, talking around a mouthful of food. “Better. Oh, I’m still going to give him shit about the table, but I’ll happily suck up to him to get more of this.”

When the last bite disappeared, he set his plate down and grinned. “I’m stuffed. Between dinner and this, I’ll have to add a few extra workouts at the gym next week.”

Whether it was from the comfort food or the fact that sitting on my futon with him felt more natural than I’d expected it to, I said, “You look pretty good to me.”

Once the words were out of my mouth, I immediately wished them back. When he didn’t say anything, I looked down at my plate, willing myself invisible. I sucked at these things.

A hand appeared in my line of vision. I watched mutely as it gently lifted the plate from my lap and set it on the coffee table. His hand settled gently under my chin as he tipped my face back up. When my gaze met his, I saw the question there. The need to feel his lips on mine trumped the nerves coiling in my stomach, and I nodded.

His fingers slid across my jaw, leaving a burning trail in their wake until they were cupping the back of my neck. Slowly, he tugged me closer to him until our lips were almost touching. At that moment, I didn’t care what the consequences would be. All I knew was I wanted him to kiss me, so I leaned forward, closing what little distance still lay between us and brushed my lips over his.

I felt, rather than heard, a tiny sigh escape him, and then his lips pressed harder against mine. In every fantasy I’d had about kissing him, I’d never thought it would be like this. Trevor’s kiss was slow and gentle. It was everything I never knew I needed, and so much more than I’d expected.

When I felt the slight tug on my bottom lip, I reached out and pulled him closer to me, the air vibrating between us. Before I could think about what was happening, his nails scraped the back of my neck, pulling me harder against him. This kiss was more insistent, more demanding. Common sense was screaming for me to pull back, to slow things down so we could figure out what was going on. But I was tired of fighting this. More than that, I was so tired of being alone. This, whatever this was with Trevor, might not last but for one night, I was right where I wanted to be.

So I ignored the part of my brain screaming at me to slow down, closed my eyes and surrendered to the kiss. My hands found their way up Trevor’s chest and I fisted them in his shirt, pulling him even closer to me. Trevor’s free hand joined the one on the back of my neck at the same moment I felt his tongue glide across the seam of my lips.

Each stroke, each nip, every graze of his teeth sent me spiraling higher. The more he kissed me, the more I wanted. His weight had shifted, pressing me back against the side of the futon. I tightened my fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against me.

I’d begun to slide my hands down his chest when he broke the kiss, nipping my bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away. He pressed his lips against mine once, twice more, then he rested his forehead against mine. Our labored breathing was the only sound in the apartment. I kept my eyes closed for a few more seconds, reveling in the weight of him.

When I felt him shift and pull away, I opened my eyes, already preparing myself to see regret etched on his face. Instead, what I saw made my breath catch. The rich brown of his irises were almost completely black, his breathing nearly as unsteady as my own, but it was the intensity of his gaze that undid me.

He took a few more deep breaths, and I watched as the intensity began to bleed away. When he seemed to have himself under better control, he leaned closer, barely brushing his lips against mine.

“I should go before I do something we’ll both regret.”

I opened my mouth, only to close it. What was I going to say? My thoughts had finally cleared enough to realize begging wasn’t an attractive quality. Not trusting my voice, I nodded and scooted away from him, putting a healthy amount of distance between us when I stood up.

Trevor sighed behind me but remained silent as he followed me to the door, his jacket draped over one of his arms. I’d just turned the doorknob when firm hands gripped my shoulders and turned me around, pinning my back against the hard plane of the door. Trevor’s mouth slanted over mine.

The kiss was different from the ones we’d shared on the futon. The intensity was still there, but the control Trevor had shown just minutes before was gone. He didn’t wait for me to open for him, instead sliding his tongue past my lips to plunder my mouth.

It was over just as quickly as it had begun. Trevor’s hand slid up to cup my jaw, his thumbs gently skimming my cheekbones. Holding my gaze, he leaned in again and placed a soft, chaste kiss on my lips. “Thank you for tonight.”

Still overwhelmed from the kiss, I simply nodded. I found the doorknob behind me, and without another word, Trevor left. I closed the door behind him, turned off the glaringly bright lamps and sank back down on the futon.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been sitting there when my butt vibrated. At first I thought it was the aftershocks of that last kiss still rolling through me, but when it happened again, I shifted to the side and pulled my phone out of my back pocket.

I swiped my thumb over the screen. “Hello?”

“Please tell me you understand why I had to leave.”

“Look, Trevor—”

He cut me off. “Tyler, please tell me you know why I couldn’t stay.”

What could I say? My head was still reeling from the kiss and I was more than a little confused by his sudden departure. When I didn’t answer, he sighed.

“If I hadn’t left when I did, I wouldn’t have left at all.”

“I don’t understand.” And I didn’t. Hadn’t that been the point? I hadn’t hidden the fact I wanted him. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why that added up to him having to leave so suddenly.

“I’m not proud of what I’m going to say but I refuse to fuck this up again.”

“Fuck what up again?”

When he spoke again, his voice softer, but still insistent. “You. This. All of it.”

“Trevor—”

“Just listen. Okay?”

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. “Okay.”

“I’m the type of guy who has no problem not staying. In fact, until tonight, it would have never entered my mind not to stay. And then leave.”

“I still don’t understand.” Was he saying I wasn’t his type? That the kiss that had left me reeling hadn’t affected him at all?

“I left because I’m not the kind of guy who stays, Tyler. I’m the kind of guy who leaves and doesn’t come back.”

“Oh.” Well, fuck. What did you say to something like that?

“Trust me, I wanted to stay. But I figured it would just fuck everything up more. Oh, and I gave Ethan and Jamie my word.”

A chill ran down my spine. “And what word was that, exactly?”

“I promised I wouldn’t try anything.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Tyler, listen to me. Ethan and Jamie care about you. I know it’s annoying as fuck to have two bosses who also moonlight as your older brothers, but they honestly care about you. In a way, I’m glad they made me promise. I don’t exactly have a perfect track record, and the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to do. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d been dying to see you again, but I didn’t take you out to dinner to get in your pants. You deserve someone who’s not going to make you feel like shit with his choice of restaurants or take advantage of you on your futon afterward. I like you. I like being around you. I don’t want to screw any of that up because kissing you short-circuited my brain for a few minutes there.”