by Lily Zante
Zoe was sure she’d walked in on something serious. Now she knew exactly what type of woman Tyler was into.
Someone like that Brazilian bombshell who had breasts like melons on display at a fruit stand, and legs so long she didn’t know what to do with them when she sat down. The complete opposite of her.
Tyler swallowed, and the way he examined her face, the way his gaze dropped down to her lips and back up again, made her sweat. She could feel her body reacting to him, just like that.
He gave her the kind of look that made her wilt, only she didn’t want him to know that. She straightened her back, sat up taller and in the process wondered how they had gone from being two flat mates who barely had anything to say to one another, and had politely stayed out of each other’s way—to all of a sudden wanting to be more. At least that was how she was starting to feel, had been feeling for some time now and she couldn’t even remember when these feelings had begun.
Her insides knotted. She was in another no-good-for-her situation.
More times than not she had walked into him with a woman, even two, she thought, with a shiver, when she had first arrived back in San Francisco that first night.
Though they still sat on different couches, the distance between them was closer than last night. She sat on the single seater, and he sat at the edge of the couch she used to sleep on. They were so close that even as she stared into his eyes for the longest time, it was impossible to look away.
Her heart started to do that funny thing it did when she was excited, or scared, and she clutched at words to break the intensity of how he was making her feel.
Maybe Margaux might make for a safer topic. “Have you received any dodgy texts lately?”
She watched him wince. “All the time.”
“Still?”
He nodded.
“Like how many?”
“Too many.”
“Can’t you report her or something?”
“I don’t have much to go on. She’s not really been threatening. The police will just say she’s infatuated, or obsessed.”
“What makes you say that?” she challenged him.
“I don’t know—you tell me.” His voice was measured, his gaze penetrating her soul. “Maybe she thinks she’s in love with me.”
“That’s not love,” she pointed out.
“Touché,” Tyler replied. “But in her twisted mind, she thinks it is.”
She looked at him dubiously, wondering what it was he was referring to. Was he still having digs at her? Couldn’t he let that go?
Maybe it was time to see what he was hiding. “Did you sleep with her?”
“You’ve already asked me that and I’ve already told you I didn’t.”
She colored. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t make any sense. It seems the problem started because of that other woman you—uh—were with.” She didn’t want to offend him further and this topic always got him riled up.
“Sleeping with Bailey was a huge mistake.” His confession surprised her.
“Ethan said that kind of thing wasn’t allowed.”
“It isn’t. You discussed this with Ethan?”
“No. It was just a few comments that Ethan made a while back. He said he wasn’t sure how far some people went with their clients.”
Tyler’s lips twitched. “Don’t think he’s such a golden boy, your Ethan.”
“He’s not my Ethan.” Though she was more than confident she could vouch for his decency.
“I bet you wish he was though.” Tyler wasn’t going to let it go this time.
Her mouth dropped open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I see right through you, Zoe. Right through you. That photo, the one of you three, with Nadine in it. That photo says it all. You know the one I mean.”
“Nothing ever happened.”
“I bet you wish it had. For Chrissakes. Poor Billy, did he have any idea what was going on?”
Zoe shrank back in horror. Their pleasant day had all of a sudden taken a turn for the worse. Why did this always happen? They took two steps forward and three steps back.
She looked down at her lap, contemplated her words. “You think something happened between me and Ethan?”
“I don’t think it was anything physical. But sometimes emotional connections can be just as powerful, if not worse. It’s when you imagine you have something you never can.”
It was time to give him her side of the story. She got up, and took a seat beside him, tucking her knees underneath herself on the couch as she faced him sideways on.
She took a deep breath. “I want you to know something, Tyler. With Ethan, it was just a feeling…nothing ever happened. After a while I realized I was thinking more of him than Billy, but me and Billy had kind of started to fizzle out anyway. It just kind of happened, us drifting apart slowly at first. It was before I started to feel anything for Ethan. You have to believe me. I got the two of them back together again—him and Nadine—when they fell out in the beginning. Why would I do that if I wanted him to myself? That was way before I acknowledged I had these feelings—and when I saw that I was feeling things I shouldn’t be, I knew it was wrong. Then when Billy suggested we go traveling, him more to get away from the work, I agreed. I thought time away would help, and it would fix me and Billy, too. Except it didn’t. Being out on the road, traveling rough, always in each others hair, on dirty trains and buses, not knowing quite what we were eating, being sick, not having a nice clean bed to sleep in most times—it tests you. I knew soon enough we weren’t going to come out best friends if we stayed any longer. So I came back. That and because I didn’t want to run away. I wanted to fix my life. I wanted the good things. I’m not stupid. I have ambition. I have dreams and ideas and things I want to do. I can always travel later.”
She felt as though she had made a speech, but she needed for him to hear her.
He sat, saying nothing, but staring at her, weighing up her words.
“Say something,” she pleaded. She’d just spilled her guts to him and here he was giving her nothing back.
“Tyler,” she raised her hand to his face, and touched it gently. It was a bold move—for her—and she hadn’t intended to make any moves. But doing this felt right. And the way he looked at her, didn’t look as though he wanted her to stop either.
“Zoe,” he touched his fingers over hers, then brought her hand down to his lap, confusing her. Did he want her to stop?
“What is it?” Her heart pounded away, knowing this was a decisive moment for her.
Please don’t crush me.
She let him hold her hand, and felt the excitement climbing inside her.
“You said you called that girl over because I went out. Your dinner, the little feast you put together—was that for me?”
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Yes.”
Her heart beat faster than ever.
She dared not breathe.
She dared not speak.
Instead, she leaned forward towards him, just as he leaned into her, and his lips, the ones she had dreamed about these past weeks, parted for hers. The moment their lips met, his as soft as she’d imagined, she melted. His kiss started sweet and minty, and warm but soon shocked into a searing flame of white hot heat. She felt herself tumbling down a dark hole—a place she’d forced herself to stay away from, but a place she very much wanted to be at now, with Tyler.
As their mouths meshed together, she grabbed his shoulders as much for support as for her raw need to feel more of his body—to put her hands where she’d never dared to before. Sparks of excitement danced over her skin when he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her in towards him.
Throughout this she was aware of these sensations, these maneuverings, while her senses shot to pieces as their kiss consumed them. Yet sitting the way she was, kneeling back, made for an awkward position, and she became vaguely aware of his hands moving down to her hips, and gently moving her back, until she
lay down on the couch, smiling up at him, fully stretched out.
It felt even better when he moved on top of her, taking his weight on his arms as he looked down at her—his slate-gray eyes so dark, and his lips so wet. She groaned with anticipation as he bent his head once more and kissed her deeply, for the longest time. Tendrils of heat snaked through her body, spreading all over until she was desperate for more than just a kiss.
But the sound of the doorbell, as loud and as unwelcome as a foghorn in their heightened state of awareness, pulled them apart.
Tyler groaned and lifted his head, and they looked at one another, reluctant to move. Then he jumped up, suddenly aware of his surroundings, and not without a touch of irritation sweeping over his face.
Zoe sat up on the couch, touched her lips, felt the dying embers of just lit passion start to ebb away and cursed whoever was at the door.
With a subdued sigh Zoe got up, curious to see who it might be, and followed Tyler; they didn’t usually have any visitors.
But Becca’s dulcet tones greeted Tyler and she passed through the hallway to give Zoe a huge hug.
“Did you forget about the movie?”
Zoe let out a gasp. “Sorry!” She looked at Tyler apologetically, and he gazed back at her. They followed Becca into the living room, where she’d already made herself at home.
With nothing else to do, Zoe filled Becca in as best as she could about her night out.
Becca looked worried. “You poor thing. You look better now. I’d never have guessed.”
“Sorry about the movie. I’d completely forgotten.”
“We can go some other time,” replied Becca. “Were you expecting someone?”
“No?” Tyler looked at Zoe. “Why?”
“Oh, nothing. Maybe I got it wrong.” Becca dismissed the thought.
Tyler moved toward her, “Got what wrong?” Zoe looked at him, wondering why the sudden interest in something that was obviously of no importance. She wasn’t paying much attention to what Becca was saying; she was still so consumed by what had just taken place between her and Tyler.
“Some woman was hanging around outside your door.”
Before she’d finished the sentence, Tyler shot up and ran to the door. By the time Zoe and Becca followed him, he was already outside, pacing around, looking up and down the street.
“Tyler!” cried Zoe, “What’s the matter?” He glanced at her and she saw the worry all over his face.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Becca, just as intrigued. They waited patiently inside, hovering around the door, while Tyler made a full inspection of the surroundings.
When he seemed suitably satisfied, he came back inside, Becca had already wandered back into the living room and made herself at home, sitting as if she owned the couch and watching TV.
“What’s the matter?” asked Zoe, reaching out for his hand, wanting to touch him again, needing to feel his hands on her.
“I’m not sure. “ He slipped his hand away, “she said a woman was hanging around outside. It could have been Margaux.” He disappeared into the living room, leaving Zoe feeling cold and abandoned.
“What did she look like?” asked Tyler, turning down the volume.
“Who?” Becca had trouble moving her gaze away from Maroon 5 on TV.
Tyler placed himself directly in front of the screen, so that she was forced to look at him. “The woman hanging around outside.”
“She had curly blond hair—”
“There you go,” said Zoe, with satisfaction.
“Do you mind?” exclaimed Becca, throwing her hands up in the air, pointing to the TV.
Tyler moved out of the way, his brow furrowed. He didn’t seem so relieved. Zoe followed him out into the hallway again. “See—there was nothing to worry about.” She tried to allay his doubts but Tyler wasn’t listening, he was walking around the apartment, checking the windows again.
Zoe hated it when he was like this—as if this whole thing with Margaux had suddenly become an obsession. He was cold again now and it was a stark contrast to the heat they had just shared.
That was the thing with Tyler, he blew hot and cold and she wasn’t sure if she could get used to it.
As she wandered back to the living room she felt a heaviness settle in her chest.
Becca didn’t look as if she was going to move anytime today. As much as Zoe loved her friend, Becca had the worst timing in the world.
Chapter 41
Margaux sat in the car and played with Tyler’s watch. She slid it around her fingers, felt the weight of the chunky steel as she did so, then slid the watch on and off her wrist.
But now she wanted to smash it against the window. But she couldn’t do that, because she knew, in the end, she’d have to return it.
She couldn’t go on with this much longer. It hurt too much.
It hurt watching him with so many other women.
She’d come by late yesterday evening, and watched the girl leave. Which didn’t make sense, for Tyler not to be with her. Then she watched Tyler leave. And she waited, and waited, as the hours went by.
Were they onto her?
Did they know?
Did they think she was stupid?
Otherwise why go to such lengths to cover up?
Did they really think they could deceive her and make her think things weren’t as she thought they were?
Only that twisted way of thinking would make them think that she didn’t know—when she’d seen the evidence for herself. A photo never lied. She’d already seen the whole pile of them.
That girl was in a couple.
He might try and hide it from her, that the girl meant nothing to him but the camera didn’t lie. He wanted to trick her, trick her into thinking the girl wasn’t special. That the girl hadn’t taken her place.
But she had.
Because once upon a time, he’d made her feel special, on their weekly dates. And she wanted those days back.
How she longed to slip back into the normality of her former life when she’d had Tyler. Now hers was all gray and dull again, and so she sought comfort in sharing a bit of his life.
She didn’t want to be doing this, following him around, sitting outside his place, tracking his every move. She hated that she did. She wanted to stop it, because it hurt too much, knowing he had eyes for someone else.
Knowing that it might already be too late for her.
But she couldn’t stop it. She’d tried earlier today and made herself drive down a parallel street instead, and when she thought she’d nearly made it, and was almost ready to turn back and drive back home, something had happened to her. Like her brain had directed her to go back and go down his street.
Like an itch that needed to be scratched. She couldn’t ‘not’ do it. And now she’d been sitting here for most of the day.
She looked at herself in the rearview mirror; it was true—blondes definitely did have much more fun. She played around with a lock of curly hair that reached all the way down to her chest, a sensation new to her, with her much shorter hair.
There was no denying that people had looked at her more. She’d caught some of the stares men gave her—and it made her feel special, again. That feeling of being noticed and almost of being ‘wanted’ made her feel good about herself.
That was what she missed the most, now that Tyler wasn’t a part of her life.
She’d still be a part of his.
They’d not gone out all day. After the goings on last night, when the girl had come back home so late—she’d wanted to go up to her then, to ask her did she know what she’d done? Did she understand how wrong it was to take someone else’s man? She’d wanted to run across the road and shake her and scream.
But she didn’t. She’d managed to keep calm, just about. And then the tall woman had left, and he’d been cooped up with that girl all night and all day. They’d been at home all day today.
She knew what they were doing.
Did they think s
he was stupid?
Why go to such lengths to cover up?
Did they really think they could deceive her and make her think things weren’t as she thought they were?
Chapter 42
Tyler skimmed through Margaux’s texts which had hurtled toward him all weekend. They’d reached a peak and he’d d lost count of how many he’d received. But the messages now threatened a different mood—he knew because he’d been reading them all and they had mostly said the same thing.
‘I miss you’
‘When can we meet?’
‘How about a dinner?’
‘Don’t you want to see me?’
‘Don’t you miss me?’
‘Don’t you want to meet me?’
‘Please see me’
‘Let’s have dinner please’
‘I miss you’
Over and over again.
But since this morning, before Becca had turned up, she’d sent him this:
‘You’re doing this to hurt me. Why? Why punish me so cruelly? You think she’s right for you, but she’s not. Can’t we start over? I promise I’ll stop this and get back to how it was before. I promise. Just don’t make the mistake of being with her.’
The hairs on the back of his neck tingled the moment he read it. Not only because it was the single longest text she had ever sent him, but because she seemed to know that something had happened this weekend, with Zoe.
How did she know?
It was as if she was watching them. As if she was here, all around them, like some CCTV camera, watching their every move.
His shoulders tightened as he looked all around him, before examining the windows again. He flinched at Becca’s laugh, then reminded himself that he’d checked everything. Twice.
Becca turning up had been an intrusion. At first he’d hated seeing her face when he’d opened the door—because he’d wanted the moment with Zoe to go on forever.
Zoe had taken him completely by surprise. He never thought she’d share the same feelings and he’d been half surprised, half in shock, not able to accept that it was him she wanted. But she had and when she made the first tiny move that was all he’d needed to know she felt the same way.