Truly Mine (17 page)

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Authors: Amy Roe

BOOK: Truly Mine
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“What in the hell are you laughing at, Tyler?”

“I’m sorry.” He backs away, allowing me room to move. “You…trying to keep your composure was amusing.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You…holding a conversation with my friends while you’re fucking me…was not.” As hard as I try to stop it, the corners of my mouth turn up.

“You’re out of your mind!” Animated and far past excited, Lissa stands and points across the table at Tyler.

We’re deep in a debate about what band sings the song that’s playing as we eat our dinner. Lissa has guessed that it is Styx, but Tyler seems confident that it’s 38 Special. This has been going on since about drink number three.

In order to end the debate, I type a few lyrics of the song into Google.

Seeing the results, I turn to Lissa. “I’m sorry, Lissa, but you’ve been schooled.”

Tyler gives me a soft squeeze on my thigh when I announce his victory. His hand has been on my thigh for most of dinner. “‘Fantasy Girl.’ Thirty-Eight Special. Off of their
Wild-Eyed Southern Boys
album in 1980.”

“No!” She slams her hands on the table and lays her head on them. “I hate you!”

Tyler is the first guy I’ve asked to join me for Friday night dinner, and I’ve enjoyed watching him interact with Marie and Lissa. The three of them have the same sick humor and warped morals. It’s going to be war in the office after Tyler goes home. They won’t be happy with my decision to not see Tyler again. That’s all right though. I’m enjoying this weekend enough to make it worth it.

“What are you thinking about?” Tyler notices the zoned-out look on my face.

I lay my hand over his. “Nothing. I’m good.”

Just then, the waiter makes an appearance with a cart of desserts. “Can I interest anyone in some dessert?” He holds up a large piece of moist dark-chocolate cake. The frosting is an inch thick, and the entire cake is drizzled with chocolate syrup. It looks sinful.

I hold my hand up, letting the waiter know that I won’t be having cake for dessert. My dessert is sitting next to me. I can’t wait to get Tyler back to my apartment. I have something special for him.

“Sir?” The waiter tries to entice Tyler with the cake. “Would you like dessert?”

Oh, no, he won’t need that cake either. I slide his hand higher on my thigh until it’s resting on top of my panties. The look in his eyes is dark. No smile. I make eye contact and drop my gaze to focus on the rise and fall of his chest as he slips one finger under my panties. He’s as turned on right now as I am. We stay like this for several moments—him caressing me and me oblivious to anything but Tyler’s touch.

When he finally returns his hand to my knee, we look away from each other and back at the girls. The waiter is gone, and they are quietly talking to one another.

I hear Ellis’s name mentioned.

“Uh…don’t you have a date with Ellis today?” I ask Lissa.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon to get me. I just don’t know though.”

“What do you mean? Why did you even agree to go out with him if you don’t know?” Marie says, irritated. She pulls her compact out of her purse and checks her signature red lipstick as she continues, “Ellis is a dear friend, Lissa. I’d hate to see this situation cause hard feelings between him and us.”

“No, it’s not going to,” Lissa reassures Marie. “I’m just…not feeling what I’d hoped I would. There’s no…” She trails off, looking upward and waving her hand, trying to find words.

We wait, genuinely interested in what she has to say.

She addresses us again when she finds her thoughts, “Excitement. No…it’s more like…no feelings, like there should be when you see a guy you want to go home with. Whatever the fuck that is.” She drinks nearly her entire cosmo without coming up for air once.

“Sexual desire?” I offer.

“Yes, but it’s even more than that.” She presses her fingers to her temples, rubbing in a circular motion.

I can tell by her body language that Marie, the therapist, is surfacing. I decide to sit this one out. Besides, I have a feeling I might agree with her for once.

“I think, as time goes on, Lissa, your expectations of men just get higher, leaving you more disappointed with every man you date.”

Tyler only watches the conversation as he sips his drink.

“No, you’re wrong. I mean, you’re right that I’m disappointed with every man I date.” Lissa looks, deadpan, at Tyler.

“Would you like me to excuse myself?” Tyler takes his napkin from his lap and places it on the table.

“No, of course not.” Lissa grins at Tyler and then flashes a devious look at me.

“Tyler, what keeps you coming back for Truly?”

Tyler is instantly amused.

I, on the other hand, am not. My body goes fire hot. I’m pissed. “Lissa, please don’t,” I mumble, narrowing my eyes, warning her to stop.

“It’s okay, Tru,” Tyler offers. “Well, for the record, it’s most often been Truly coming back to Fallport.” He looks from Lissa to me and then back. “This is the first time I’ve come to New York for her. But, to answer your question, the only thing that keeps
us
coming back for each other is that she continues leaving me.”

Tyler turns his gaze toward me. He rests his cheek on his clasped hands, and the table becomes quiet.

Why the hell did he have to get so serious?
It’s going to ruin my plans for tonight if he gets all weird on me now.

Thankfully, Lissa has mercy on me, as she should. She started this conversation after all.

“I didn’t realize this was your first trip to New York, Tyler.”

“No, it isn’t my first trip to New York actually. It’s only my first trip to New York to see Truly.” Tyler looks at me with a strange look in his eyes, and he takes a deep breath as he squeezes my knee. Not taking his eyes off of me, he drops a bomb. “My son goes to school at Columbia. I visit New York often.” He swallows hard.

I’m shocked. My mouth drops open, and I quickly close it. I couldn’t speak if I wanted to.

I hear Marie ask him what he’s studying, and then Lissa asks him how old he is. Tyler gives them his attention, responding as if he didn’t just shock the hell out of me.

From everything that is said, I gather that Tyler has a twenty-one-year-old son who studies law.

Why has this not come up before now? Is his son’s mother someone that we went to school with? Were they married? Are they still married?

I look at his finger to see if there is a mark where a ring should be. He’s moving his hand as he talks, so I can’t tell.

“He’s home for the summer right now. He’ll be coming back to New York in three weeks for the fall semester.”

He begins tapping his phone screen and then hands it to Lissa. Marie leans in to see the picture.

I know that look on their faces. He must be handsome, like his father.

Tyler finds a semi private moment as the girls are drooling over his son. “You never asked.”

I blink rapidly and then look up at him. “I’m sorry.” I honestly am.

It hits me like a ton of bricks that Tyler has a life—a much more interesting life than I have. He has more interesting things to share with me than I do with him. If I had only shown a little interest and quit playing hard-ass, he would have shared this with me.

pronunciation
vas-uh-ley-ting

(adj.)
waver or indecisive

Tyler

I
t’s been an enjoyable evening. I’ve spent it with three strong and beautiful women. They remind me of my sisters, minus the bitchiness. Okay, including the bitchiness. But that’s okay. I’ll take it. Clearly, their love for one another is unconditional, and they couldn’t survive a day without each other. They interact as if they’ve known each other all their lives.

I met Ellis, and it turns out that he’s a really great guy. I’m not sure of his history with the girls, so God only knows why Lissa isn’t feeling him. One thing is obvious though. He does feel something for her. It’ll be interesting to hear how that plays out over time.

Once Ellis had arrived, we’d moved from the restaurant to the bar.

Ellis and I have been standing at the bar for a few minutes, waiting for drinks, when some asshole squeezes in next to me.

“Excuse me.” I’ll never get used to the rude people in this city.

“Excuse you,” he slurs as he speaks to me.

I narrow my eyes and stand tall, warning this jerk to go find trouble somewhere else.

Ellis hangs his head and addresses the guy by name, “Get lost, Scott. We don’t need this tonight.”

Ellis steps to the side of him. I watch, trying to figure out what the issue is. Whoever Scott is, he’s clearly had a few too many drinks. He glares at me, but he doesn’t move as Ellis says something to him that I can’t hear. Sizing me up, he looks me over from head to toe. Ellis steps away and tips his head to the side in a questioning gesture. With that, Scott glares at me, slightly nodding his head, and backs away from us.

Turning my attention to the bar, I tell the bartender what I want and then turn to Ellis. “Who was that?”

He doesn’t answer me as he’s preoccupied with his phone. I don’t bother asking again. It’s none of my business.

“Tyler.” Ellis looks at me, stone-faced.

“Yeah?”

He points his finger at me as if I’m the one who’s just pissed him off.

“If you really care for Truly, do her a favor. Don’t let her leave this time. That dickhead”—he points at Scott—“is going to hurt her bad one day.”

He takes his drinks from the bar and walks away, leaving me standing there, confused.

Why did he say that out of the blue?
It’s safe to assume that guy has something to do with Truly.
She’s going to get hurt bad one day?
I don’t like that comment one bit.
Has he hurt her already?

I find him as he stands near a table now, and I memorize his face.

As I make my way back to our table, I notice Ellis is standing in front of Truly. All I can see are her arms flailing around.

When I approach the table, Lissa reaches out, shoving Ellis in the arm, alerting him to my presence. He turns to face me, shielding Truly. What he doesn’t account for is our height difference. I can see Truly from over his shoulder. She’s frantic and panicked. Once she and Ellis realize there’s nothing to hide anymore, he steps aside.

Instead of asking a question I’ll not get an honest answer to, I reach out for Truly’s hand and pull her close to my chest. I hold her tight. Long ago, I learned that it’s much more effective to soothe a woman when she’s upset and save the questions for later. The answers you get from a calm, well-loved woman are much more accurate than those of an emotional hot mess.

Ellis’s comment echoes in my thoughts.
“That dickhead is going to hurt her bad one day.”

I will get to the bottom of this later. And, if that guy has hurt her, I will fuck his world up.

“Would you like to leave?”I ask Truly.

She nods against my chest. After we say good night to Marie, Lissa, and Ellis, I lead Truly out of the club.

The cab ride back to the apartment is quiet. Truly keeps close, safely tucked under my arm, until we’re inside.

She drops her purse on the couch and kicks off her heels, leaving them in the middle of the floor. Just as I would if I were at home, I empty my pockets and then join Truly where she’s sitting at the dining table. She’s taking off her jewelry, adding it to the dozens of various pieces already on the table. I add my wallet, keys, and change.

Looking around the apartment, I take in the place. Her apartment is a jacked-up mess. Clothes are draped over chairs and piled on furniture. Shoes are lying in random places, and this mess of jewelry takes up her entire table. Thankfully though, there are no dirty dishes or moldy takeout lying around.

She notices me looking around and offers an apologetic smile. “No cleaning lady here. Sorry for the mess.”

“It’s your apartment. No need to apologize.”

“I did pick up. Things just get away from me so fast.”

I smile, trying to lighten her mood. “I like it. It’s you.” I wink at her and pull my chair closer to hers. “I liked having your things strewed around my house.”

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