“You all right?” Mel asks, carefully studying every line of pain that I’m sure is apparent in my face.
“Are you going to ask me that question a million times until I’m recovered?” I ask, and a relieved smile spreads across her features.
“Probably long after that,” she confesses, “since you’re both living with just one kidney now.”
The concern is sweet, and I can’t deny that it’s cute, but I really can’t stand making her worry more than she already has.
“I promise you, I’m all good. Now, you need to go get some sleep. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Mel stretches and rubs her lower back painfully. “No arguments, here,” she resigns, tossing her hands up in mock surrender. “I really need to change my clothes and shower, anyway. I’ll be back close to dinnertime, okay?” she promises, and I roll my eyes.
“Take all the time you need,” I reassure her. “We’ll be fine.”
I watch her pick her bag up off the chair and turn back to my bed, kissing my lips as fiercely as I could probably tolerate right at this moment. The beeping of the heart rate monitor speeds up, and I reach up to grip the back of her neck in my hand. It’s been a wild ride for both of us these past two days, and I really don’t want to let her go, but we both need to rest.
I know she’ll be there when I wake up, and I already can’t wait to kiss her again.
Chapter 24
Mel
Tyler is only in the hospital for two days after the surgery, while Jackson spends a full eight days there before he’s released and allowed to go home. Jackson’s recovery is much more intense than Tyler’s, of course, but it’s not too long before he’s back on his feet. He’s a good patient, only doing what he knows he can do and never pushing himself too far beyond his limits. He knows that he’s got his dream job waiting for him, so he’s in no rush, because the future isn’t going anywhere.
Tyler, however, is impatient. Just a few days after he was released from the hospital, he was already working from home, even though I told him not to. I went over every day after work, batting off his hands as he groped me playfully while I played nursemaid for him, all while telling him that he wasn’t ready for physical activity and I was not going to give in.
It took three weeks—the doctors had told us that his recovery would take four to six, but of course, Tyler had to be the exception—before the doctors finally cleared him to go back to his regular activities. The first thing he’d wanted to do was to check on the VirtuGyms, so we’d spent a whole day visiting each of the local locations together.
I’d started working for VirtuGym as soon as Tyler had gotten out of the hospital. Tyler was right—my clients had followed me to the new location. There was quite a learning curve involved in getting adjusted to the new equipment, especially the virtual reality stuff, but it’s been fun, and my clients have loved it. I’ve even signed on a few new clients since I’ve moved.
On the last day that Tyler is working from home, I can’t contain the excitement I feel when I clock out, knowing that when I clock back in tomorrow, Tyler will be sitting at the desk in his office—right next to my own. There’s a bounce to my step as I take the bus home in my work clothes. The short walk to my apartment complex feels a bit longer than usual, despite the weather being nice, since all I want to do is eat dinner and go to sleep so that I can be up early tomorrow.
When I open the door of my apartment, I yelp in surprise when I see that I’m not alone. I jump back and clutch my chest, trying to get my breath back while Tyler looks apologetic on my couch.
“Sorry,” he apologizes in place of a greeting, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He’s sitting in my living room, which I’m glad I tidied up last night, holding a bouquet of flowers. With a quick scan of the room, I notice a bottle of expensive champagne on the kitchen counter and a shopping bag on the coffee table, marked with the logo of a high-end jewelry store. Tyler is wearing a suit. I’ve almost forgotten how attractive he is when he cleans up, since I’ve only really seen him in loose-fitting clothes for the past month. It’s a light gray suit and, like always, it’s fitted perfectly to his well-sculpted body.
“I’ve got to start hiding that key better,” I mumble, but the irritation is all show.
Tyler chuckles, scooching to one side of the couch to make room for me to sit on the other.
“So,” I start, “what brings you by tonight?”
“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” he returns, and one side of my mouth lifts up.
“In my neighborhood?” I echo, calling upon his words from my last unexpected visit to his house. “Doing what, fighting crime?”
Tyler frowns. “Your neighborhood could probably use it,” he replies, and I shove him playfully.
“Really, what are you doing here? I didn’t think we’d made plans,” I say, knowing full well that we definitely did not.
“I know,” he replies, “but I wanted to surprise you. Tomorrow’s my first day back at work, and I wanted to give you a proper thanks for taking care of me for the past few weeks.”
I roll my eyes. It’s not like Tyler hasn’t been constantly appreciative. He’s thanked me after every minor favor he’s allowed me to do for him, which really hasn’t been much. When he’s needed most things, like groceries or rides to and from doctors’ appointments, he’s had his personal driver help him. The only thing he’s really allowed me to do is cook dinner.
“Tyler, you know that’s not necessary,” I remind him, but he puts up a hand to shush me. I know that he’s going to get his way, so it’s not worth trying to fight it.
“The first gift,” he begins, as if I haven’t said anything at all, “isn’t even really a gift. It’s just a bottle of champagne, to celebrate a healthy recovery for both me and your brother.”
Well, that I can’t object to. While Tyler pops the cork, I fish through my cabinets for two glasses and bring them back to the couch, allowing him to fill them up after we sit back down.
“To health and longevity,” I toast, and he smiles, holding up his own glass.
“To life and love,” he replies, touching his glass to mine lightly.
I take a sip of the champagne and savor the flavor—it’s much higher quality than something I’d ever justify buying, and the difference is astounding.
“This is amazing, Tyler,” I gush, taking another sip.
Tyler nods, leaning to pick up the bag that he’s brought with him. “Here,” he says softly, setting the bag in my lap, “open it.”
I carefully open it and remove a small, black velvet box. It’s bigger than a ring box, and not very heavy.
“What’s this?” I ask, exhaling a breathy laugh.
“You’ll just have to open it and find out.”
I open it up and find a small rose-gold bracelet with diamond studs, which perfectly matches my necklace from Jackson. As I rotate the bracelet in my hands, inspecting every centimeter of the craftsmanship, I notice that the clasp is a small heart. My hand flutters up to fiddle with the locket on my necklace, and I feel breathless.
“Oh, Tyler,” I gasp, “this is beautiful.”
“You like it?” he asks, looking unsure. “I wanted it to match your necklace, so I took a picture of it to the jeweler and he custom made it.”
I nod, not even needing to compare the two side by side to know that they’re nearly identical. I’ve been wearing the necklace for years, so I know the curves of the heart and the color of the metal like the back of my hand.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him, outstretching my hand so that he can help me put it onto my wrist.
“I’m glad.” Tyler smiles, turning my wrist over in his hands to see it on my body. “It looks good on you,” he tells me, which makes me blush.
“Thank you,” I say, “I really love it. And the champagne was amazing, too. I didn’t need any kind of gift for taking care of you, though, Tyler. You donated your kidney to my brother; the least I could do was
help you recover.”
Tyler moves closer to me on the couch, taking both my hands in his.
“There’s actually another reason I came here tonight,” he begins, making me immediately feel a bit nervous.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, biting my lip. “And what would that be?”
If Tyler can sense my apprehension, he doesn’t show it.
“I wanted to ask you a question,” he says. He pauses, then, and I can feel every beat of my heart in my chest. “Mel Page, will you be my girlfriend?”
My breath catches, and everything seems to slow down just a bit. This is something that I’ve wanted for years, ever since I met him for the first time. I never thought that someone like Tyler would notice me. Then, when he did, I never thought that he’d find me interesting enough to want to keep around. Tyler is magnetizing, the kind of presence that turns heads, and I’m just…me.
But if Tyler likes me, maybe I’m just as special—in his eyes, at least—as he is to me.
“I’d love nothing more than that,” I reply. “Absolutely.”
His eyes light up in what looks like relief—but how could he have had any doubt that I’d say yes? How could I have said anything else?
He leans in and kisses me deeply, with feeling. Before I know it, I’m lying back on the couch, and he takes my wrists in his hands to keep from kneeling on them as he shifts his body on top of mine. One of his knees is against my hip, but he’s still got a foot on the ground, and I’m trapped beneath him.
I can’t help but think about how this is the first time that we’ve ever been intimate in my apartment—save for the one kiss that Jackson interrupted a few months ago. It feels like it’s been a much longer amount of time, but a lot has happened in between.
The second time that Tyler and I slept together had been right after his and Jackson’s fight, so there had been no pressure to please him. Physical attraction had won out over common sense, but I’d thought that it was going to be the last time that I’d ever see him again. I’d only wanted to make him hurt—both emotionally and physically—and leave him to feel bad for what he’d done to both my brother and me. My, how things have changed.
I wrap my legs around Tyler’s torso, pulling him tightly toward my body so that he’s pressed against me, and wrap my arms around his neck. As his abs press against me, seemingly no less toned by the inactivity of his recovery, a thought rolls through my mind.
I pull my lips away from his for just long enough to speak.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” I say, remembering his newly healed scar. I don’t want to do anything he’s not ready for, but he laughs as if he’d been anticipating my fretting, kissing me even harder to ease my concern.
“You won’t,” he replies earnestly.
As if to prove his point, he sits me up to slide his hands behind my back and hoists me up from the couch. It’s like he wants to show me just how strong he still is, as if I could have forgotten.
Just looking at his body is evidence enough that he’s still in excellent shape. He carries me easily to my bedroom, unhooking my bra under my shirt as we walk and depositing me roughly into the bed, wasting no time easing himself down on top of me to kiss me once more.
I rip off his shirt while he takes off mine, and then I tug down my leggings while he undoes his belt and lets his pants fall to the floor, stepping out of them and into my bed. It’s the fastest we’ve ever undressed, for sure, no longer having to think about it or question our morals. I’m not sneaking around, not risking my relationship with my brother by giving in to these desires.
With Tyler’s shirt off, I can feel the faint, pale echo of the scar he has on his lower back. Before he settles all the way down on top of me, I let my fingers trace it. I press lightly, testing to ensure that he’s not hiding any pain, then draw my hand back, worried I’ve made him uncomfortable.
“Hey,” Tyler says softly, taking my hand back and pressing it to the scar. “It’s okay to touch it. It doesn’t hurt, and I’m not going to break. I’m cleared for even vigorous activity,” he insists.
He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that makes me giggle, before he begins kissing slowly, almost torturously, down my neck and to my chest. His hands are delicate as they caress my body, like he’s handling something fragile and valuable. For all his strength, he’s never anything but tender in these moments, no matter how much heat there is between us.
He reaches up and tugs at my ponytail until the hair tie comes out and my hair falls down around my shoulders and into my face. He brushes it away and tucks it behind my ear with a gentle hand.
“How vigorous are we talking?” I ask teasingly, kissing him more deeply.
He laughs lowly into the nape of my neck, tickling my skin and making me shiver. “I’ve been meaning to find out,” he says seductively. “You know I’m the type of man that doesn’t stop until I’ve reached the limit.”
He’s confident and strong in his reassurance, and I’m no longer afraid of hurting him—in fact, his definition of pushing the limit and my own might be very different. He very well might wear me out before I can do that to him.
My hair is spread all across the pillow, reminiscent of the first time we made love. I reach around his neck and pull him close to me. The heat is more intense than it’s ever been before, partially because of the long time we’ve had to wait to be together like this again and partially because of the commitment we’ve just made to one another.
Goodbye sex is one kind of passion, and I had assumed that it would be more intense because of the finality. However, the way he holds me now is tighter, knowing in the back of his mind that he will not have to let me go the next morning. I’m not afraid to show pleasure on my face, because I’m not angry at him anymore. Instead, I am absolutely, completely, head-over-heels in love with him.
I’ve never had another lover other than Tyler. I’ve been on dates in the past few years—most of them orchestrated by friends—and while some of them had gone okay, I’d never felt the electrifying feeling that Tyler gives me. There’s fire everywhere he touches, static tingling through the nerves that he brushes so lightly with his hands. When he touches my cheek, it turns hot; when he holds me, an arc of electricity courses from one of his hands to the other. I feel both grounded and high-flying, safe and entirely on the edge of danger.
Sex with Tyler is a gentle pressure, one which begins like gentle waves on the beach on a clear day and quickly builds into a hurricane, an unpredictable onslaught of thrilling power that threatens to capsize me if I’m not holding on for my life.
I’m comfortable in his grasp and I never want to leave. For the first time, I know that I don’t have to.
Chapter 25
Tyler
Like a missing piece finally being returned to a puzzle, Jackson has turned out to be the best addition to the company that I’ve ever made. He’s a hard worker, good with people, and diligent about keeping things organized. Really, he’s been good for me personally, too—I tend to get so caught up in small details that I can forget about the bigger picture, and before I know it, everything is cluttered all around me. Jackson has made the company run much smoother, and our new receptionist, Trish, thinks he’s the amazing—I suspect there may be more than professional admiration to her high opinion of him, though.
Not to mention, he’s innovative. It’s almost like he’s never skipped a beat, like he’s never stopped thinking about VirtuGym even while he wasn’t working for the company. On his first day back, Jackson walked into my office with a whole folder of ideas, and we began implementing many of them within days.
Perhaps most importantly, with the help of a few tech buddies of his that he’s brought onto the team, Jackson and I have been working on a new phone app that will enhance the VirtuGym experience and bring some of our revolutionary technology directly into people’s homes, or wherever they like to exercise.
The app has been wildly popular in test markets so far, and tech review sites and fitness blogs a
like are already hailing it as the best new app in lifestyle intervention in years. We also involved physical therapists, who backed it as a potential recovery tool for patients, using Jackson’s accident as an angle—thanks to Mel and the app’s trial, he was rehabilitated into better shape than he was in before.
Jackson plays a major part in marketing, but the selling feature is Mel; she’s the face of the app, walking the user through exercise routines for any level of athlete at different prices for different levels of expertise, and within San Bravado, she’s become something of a celebrity. The fame hasn’t at all gone to her head, which is just one of the many things I love about her.
After a lot of late nights and a lot of early mornings directing and filming the exercise videos, Jackson, Mel, and I are all pretty exhausted.
Finally, I close my laptop for the night, looking up at Mel, who’s been cleaning furiously since she got off work two hours ago—her lease finished up last month, and I invited her to come live with me, which she gladly accepted. When she catches me staring at her, she smiles, wiping her hands on her apron, then unties it and hangs it over the edge of a chair.
“Hey, babe,” she greets, sliding my laptop off my knees and setting it on the coffee table so I’m not tempted to keep picking at work until bedtime. “Finished for the night?”
“I guess I am,” I say, smiling. I enjoy the new pace of life she’s directed me towards—a proper work-life balance.
Mel grins, then sits on my lap and kisses me on the lips. “Good,” she tells me. “You work too hard.”
I kiss her back. “How are things coming along for the barbecue?” I ask, knowing that she’s spent the last two evenings preparing for having Jackson and some mysterious guest over for our Fourth of July celebration. “Do you need any help?”
Mel shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Of course you’d offer to clean after I’ve already finished,” she teases, and I grip her close, flashing her a devious smile.
My Brother's Best Friend - A Second Chance Romance (San Bravado Billionaire's Club Book 8) Page 12