Oh, shit. What he wouldn’t give to hear that every fucking night.
“Y-Yeah.” His heart sped up. “Of course.” He swallowed hard and stood, brushing his sweaty hands across his shorts.
Wait a second.
Racing heart? Sweaty palms? Dreams for the future?
Oh, fucking shit.
Chapter Thirteen
Christine woke up slowly, the haze of her vodka-induced sleep drifting away to allow her consciousness to creep back in. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in Tyler’s arms. At first, he’d been stiff and almost uncertain of himself. As if he wasn’t sure how to sleep with another person or something.
But he’d relaxed. As she drifted off, she was pretty certain he’d kissed her forehead, but she might have imagined it. Even if it was in her head, it had been nice. Had made her feel special. Treasured. Cared for. Happy.
All dangerous thoughts when paired with Tyler Dresco.
She peeked at Tyler from under her lashes. His own eyes were closed, and in sleep he looked softer. More open to the possibilities that life might throw at him. It was hard to believe that he was the same man who threw her against a tree and whispered naughty things in her ear. The same man who was going to steal her heart…
Even if he wasn’t trying.
This wasn’t okay. She didn’t want this confused tangle of emotions he’d given her. She needed to distance herself before it was too late. She’d made a huge freaking mess of her sex list. Heck, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit she lost hold long ago. Probably ever since she’d kissed him.
But no more. She would find a way to still walk away from this with her heart intact, and she would still be free of his hold. It was time to go back to avoiding him. Because that would be so easy, what with them both being in the wedding party and all. She might as well put Fly to the moon on a cow on the list while she was at it. Then she could add with Tyler after it, because he’d totally taken over her list. Make out in an elevator…with Tyler. Have sex in public…with Tyler. Kiss a stranger…with Tyler.
Maybe the list wasn’t even hers anymore.
She stared up at the sky, silently cursing her stupidity. The sun wasn’t even up yet, but the slightest traces of dawn touched the horizon, painting tendrils of pink across the inky blackness. She shifted her weight, gingerly testing out her ankle. It still hurt, but it didn’t hurt quite as much. She rolled it in a circle and stiffened.
Okay. Never mind. That hurt.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Tyler said, his voice gruff.
Christine jumped slightly and peeked at him. With all traces of sleep gone from his eyes, he looked like the Tyler she was used to. Slightly hardened, yet kind to everyone around him. She forced her tone to remain cool and impassionate. “Why not?”
“You’ll injure it worse.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes before focusing on her. “You need to rest it, or you’ll be getting carried down the aisle.”
Hell no. She would walk down the aisle on her own two feet, thank you very much. “Not happening. I’m not ruining Kady’s wedding because I’m an idiot who couldn’t watch where I was going.”
He slid out of the sleeping bag and stretched his hands high up over his head. His shirt rode up, baring those fabulous abs of his she loved so much, and her fingers twitched with the desire to stroke his skin. To further explore the vee shape of his hip bones that led down to his cock, perhaps with her tongue…
No. She needed to remember that she was done crossing items off with him.
Before it was too late.
“Your ankle is more important than appearances,” he pointed out, eyeing her closely. Could he tell she was keeping her behavior polite, but not personal? “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I just want to walk down the aisle on my own two feet.”
His brow furrowed. “But you could prolong your recovery period by pushing it too fast,” he said, his voice hard. He didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Instead of a few days, you’ll be flat on your ass for over a week. How is that a better option than taking it easy?”
“I’m not getting carried down the aisle,” she said, fisting the sleeping bag. It was getting a lot harder to keep her tone even. “And that’s that. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Why do you care so damned much?”
She raised a brow, looking him up and down. “One could ask the same of you.”
He stepped into his shoes, his eyes on her. “Why are you acting like we’re strangers again?”
“I’m not. I’m just talking,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Am I supposed to act as if we’re more than what we are?”
The pain that flashed in his eyes was undeniable. An answering pain slashed through her. Wrong, wrong, wrong. “And what are we, exactly?”
“Do you really want to have that talk in the woods, when I have a hangover?”
He slammed his foot into his second shoe. “You know what? Never mind.”
“Good.” She swallowed past her aching throat. “I’m glad we agree on that, at least.”
“On avoiding that particular conversation? Sure.” He shot her a hard look. “But you’re not walking down the damn aisle. I’ll carry you.”
No way. His romantically carrying her down the aisle in his strong arms was not a good idea. “No. I don’t want to be carried by you—or anyone. Got it?”
“I can’t help but notice that you mentioned me first,” he pointed out, bending over and grabbing her shoes. He shoved them in his bag without even asking her whether or not she could walk, and started gathering more items, including the almost-empty vodka bottle. “That’s quite telling if you ask me. There something you want to tell me, Red? Did I snore and keep you up last night?”
“Uh, no.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “I just don’t want your help. I don’t need to be saved by you. I’m not one of your helpless patients.”
He snorted, but didn’t say anything. But his jerky motions said it all. He was pissed off, hurt, and maybe a little bit confused. He’d get over it. It was better this way.
“Did I kick in my sleep?” he asked, yanking in his hair. “I seriously have no fucking clue. I’ve never slept with anyone before.”
“I told you. I’m fine. I just—” She paused, his words sinking in. “Wait. You never slept with anyone before? I was your…your…first?”
“Yeah.” He glanced away. “Did I do it wrong?”
Her heart twisted. “No. You did nothing wrong, Tyler.”
“Could’ve fucking fooled me,” he muttered. Once he finished gathering objects, he stared at her with narrow eyes. “I need to pack the sleeping bag, then we’re heading back.”
She bit down on her lip, her mind still wrapping itself around the fact that she’d been the first woman he’d ever slept with. “Do you even know which way to walk?”
“Yeah.” He bent down and lifted her to her feet, making sure he set her in the grass, away from the sharp rocks and twigs. “Down the mountain, just like we did last night.”
“Well, that leaves about a million options,” she mumbled, smoothing her hair.
She probably looked more zombie than human right now, and her mouth tasted about as wonderful as a week-old sock. She’d never felt more unattractive than she did right now, and of course it had to be with Tyler. If nothing else gave them closure, one look her way and he’d be done with her.
He rolled the sleeping bag up. “Do you have a better suggestion?” he asked, his tone as perfectly even as hers was. Apparently, he’d caught on to her desire to distance herself from him. “I’m open to hearing them, unlike some people in this clearing.”
“No,” she admitted. He picked up the vodka bottle and opened the lid. She eyed him. “Drinking already?”
“I’m tempted to,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on her. He took the lid off and swigged it, swished it around like mouthwash, and spit it out into the grass. “Here. It’ll make your breath tast
e a little bit better. Just don’t swallow unless you want to.”
She took the bottle and did the same thing he did, shuddering at the taste of vodka at such an early hour. It couldn’t even be five o’clock yet, judging from the barely there dawn. The pink had crept a little bit higher, but the night still owned the sky. Once she gurgled and spit, she handed the bottle back to him and wiped her hand across her mouth.
He was right. She felt a tiny bit less repugnant.
Of course, she probably smelled like a lush, but it was still an improvement. “Thanks,” she said, her eyes averted.
“Yeah. Sure. Anytime.” He shoved the vodka into his bag. “Am I allowed to carry you off camera, or is that not allowed either?”
“Last I checked, you had my shoes in your backpack. Does it matter what I want?” she asked, her brows up. “Or is this one of those pointless questions men like to ask women?”
He hauled her into his arms without another word. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but didn’t rest against his shoulder this time. He shifted her in his arms and tipped his head upward.
“The sunrise is pretty,” he said, his tone still perfectly neutral.
She looked up at the sky, her breath catching in her throat. The pinks were now melded with oranges and reds, and the sky was almost blue. The colors were so vibrant and beautiful and perfect. She’d never have thought she would see a sunrise while cradled in Tyler’s arms. Even in Mexico, she hadn’t gotten to watch the morning arrive with him, because he’d left her.
If she weren’t careful, he’d do it to her all over again. She was only protecting herself by pulling away now. Which only made it even harder to keep him at a distance.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yeah. It’s beautiful.”
“Absolutely perfect,” he said, his voice hushed. When she glanced up at him, more out of habit than anything else, he was watching her with hooded eyes. Not the sunrise. “Red, I know we have a hell of a lot of—”
Loud voices came from the left, cutting him off, and Christine recognized one of them. It was Julie and another man. Maybe Reed? Christine looked through the trees, catching a brief glimpse of color. Any second now, they’d be here. Saved by the bell.
“You can put me down now,” she said.
His grip on her tightened. “Just because we have help doesn’t mean you’re walking yet. I’ll carry you to the resort, and I’ll take you to your room. Then, and only then, will I put you down.”
“Yes, sir,” she bit off, hating the way he was acting—all bossy and domineering again. Hating that she’d made him act this way with her behavior.
Julie stumbled into view, with Reed right behind her. Judging from the tight lines around both their mouths, Christine would place her money on the fact that they’d been fighting. Julie rushed forward, her brow crinkled. “What happened?”
Christine opened her mouth to reply, but Tyler cut her off. “Ankle sprain.”
Julie paled. “Oh, you poor thing. Let’s get you back to the resort right now. Ice and elevation, that’s what you need. We’ll get it fixed up real good. Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’m going to have room service bring you up a big old cup of coffee and some chocolate. Aunt Sylvie always said there’s nothing you can’t cure with chocolate and time.” She patted Tyler on the arm. “Can you carry her the rest of the way or should—”
“I’ve got her.”
Christine balled her fists. “I can—”
“I said I got it,” Tyler snapped. It. Not her. “Julie, you can go lead the way with Reed, since you have the flashlight.”
Julie raised a brow at Christine but nodded. “Fabulous. Let’s get moving.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tyler stood in the crazy, crowded lobby, watching everyone fight to be heard over one another. He was getting sick of the ever-increasing noise all around them. His patience was wearing dangerously thin. Especially since he wanted to put Christine down in her bed, and go to his room for some fucking peace and quiet.
Ever since she’d woken up cold and distant, he’d been on edge and ready to snap. It’s not like he’d expected her to be in love with him or anything, but here he was thinking about the future, and she was pushing him away. It was as if they were already a done deal.
In her head, maybe they already were.
“Guys, I’m fine.” Christine let out a sigh. “Seriously.”
No one heard her. They just kept planning and shouting and talking. Tyler pulled her closer and looked down at her. She had bags under her eyes and looked as if she would pass out at any given time. He hugged her closer and cleared his throat.
“Excuse me.” No one turned around. “Excuse me!” he shouted.
Everyone stopped talking and turned around. His mom stepped closer, her blue eyes wide with concern, and rested her hand on his arm. “I’m taking Christine upstairs. She needs to rest.”
“But shouldn’t a doctor check her out?” someone asked from the back of the crowd. He couldn’t even see who, that’s how crazy the lobby was right now. All he could see was a fake tree. “Make sure she’s okay?”
He shifted her in his arms. “She doesn’t need another doctor poking at her. I already checked her out, but if the pain persists, she should get an X-ray. Until we give it some time to heal, we’re wasting all of our time arguing about it. I’m taking her up to her room for some sleep. Don’t disturb her for a couple of hours.”
Julie nodded. “If you’re sure…?”
“I’m sure.”
He gave them all a tight smile and headed for the elevator with long steps. The sooner he got her in bed, the sooner he could find his own and crash. And man, he needed some sleep stat. Maybe once he was rested, he’d be able to make sense out of the fact that he’d fallen for Christine, while she’d basically shoved him away the second the sun rose.
How fucking ironic was that?
“Hello? Earth to Tyler?” Christine tapped him on his chest. When he looked down at her, he stiffened. There was something in her eyes that made his heart lurch in reply. “Thanks for doing that. Rescuing me from the masses.”
At least her monotone voice from earlier this morning was gone. She sounded like herself again…whatever the hell that meant. The elevator doors opened, and he walked inside the elevator. “Don’t mention it. What floor are you on?”
“The same one as you. Five doors down.”
Five fucking doors down?
If he’d known she was that close, nothing short of a disaster would have stopped him from breaking down her door so they could finish what they had started the other night after she’d run away from him. But he didn’t say anything. Just watched the numbers climb higher as the elevator gained floors.
When it hit their floor, he stepped off the elevator and headed toward his room. “What’s your room number?”
“308,” she said.
He passed his room and kept walking until he stood in front of hers. “Do you still have your key?”
“Yeah. It’s right here.” She tried to swipe the card down the lock, twisting in his arms, but she couldn’t reach it. “You’ll have to put me down so I can open the door. I’m fine on my own.”
“Not yet. Just give it to me.” He plucked the card from her fingers and ran it through the lock. “I’ll put you down on the bed once we’re inside, but I don’t want you putting any weight on that ankle until absolutely necessary.”
She sighed. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do,” he snapped. “Do you have to argue with me every time I fucking open my mouth?”
She blinked up at him, but the surprise was quickly overcome by anger. “Maybe if you weren’t always being Dr. McBossy, I wouldn’t.”
He kicked the door open and entered her room. There was no point in replying to that statement. It would only make her even angrier, and he’d done nothing but anger her ever since she woke up. He might as well quit while he was…well, behind. After laying her down on the bed, he st
raightened and glanced around. Her room was spotless. It looked as if no one lived in it right now. It was that tidy. He felt as if he made it dirtier just by stepping inside.
“Did you unpack at all?” he asked, smoothing his hair.
“Yeah.” She looked around her, blinking. “Uh, why?”
“There’s nothing out. Where your stuff? Perfume, makeup? Clothes?”
“Oh.” She flushed. “It’s all in the bathroom, and my clothes are in the closet. My suitcase, too. I like to keep things organized. When I get to my room, I take the first hour to unpack.”
He nodded, not sure why he was talking about this stupid shit when there was so much more to say. But maybe that was the problem. There was so much left unsaid that he didn’t even know where to begin. He crossed the room to the ice bucket. “I’ll be right back.”
“You don’t have to come back. I’ll be fine alone.”
He froze with his hand on the bucket, his left hand gripping the table edge so tightly he was surprised it didn’t crack from the pressure. She was so eager to be done with him that she couldn’t wait to shove him out the door. He’d be lying if he said that her willingness to get rid of him didn’t hurt. “I’m getting some ice for your ankle. I’m going to put it in a bag and set it on your injury. Once I’m done, and only once I’m done, I’ll leave you alone.”
He grabbed her key and the ice bucket, and slammed the door shut behind him. He headed down the deserted corridor toward the ice. He should have kept his hands to himself. No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t regret what they’d done. That was just the frustration talking. They were both exhausted and they both needed a few hours of sleep.
Later tonight, he’d talk to her again.
Try to find a way to ask her if she’d be interested in taking this a step further after the wedding was over. Hell, he was even considering the impossible: changing his life for her. To be with her. He was willing to try just about anything…if she was. But right now? It didn’t seem as if she was. It was probably just the exhaustion talking, though. They were both ready for some sleep. They both might be much more amicable to the type of conversation he had in mind after some R & R.
Falling for the Groomsman Page 12