She turned toward me, her blue eyes glowing in the tiny bit of light coming from her room.
“Yeah?”
“Listen, whatever I said or did … I’m sorry.”
I really hoped I hadn’t done something stupid. Like everything I’d ever thought about doing to her since I was old enough to think about girls naked. I hoped I hadn’t drunkenly opened up and told her everything that was on my mind and in my heart.
“Excuse me?”
“I know you came by the other night, but honestly, I was drinking, and I don’t remember much of what happened. Whatever I said or did, I’m sorry.”
Her stiff shoulders dropped, and I saw the moment her tight expression softened toward me. She nodded and moved into the hallway closer to me. Then, as if she remembered herself, she backed away.
“It’s okay. Good night, Tyson.”
She disappeared into her room and shut me out, closing the door behind her and leaving me more confused than I was before.
TEN
Nicole
I CLOSED MY bedroom door and pressed my back against the wood. Seeing him naked from the chest up had taken my breath away, but not for the usual reasons. I’d seen him in the kitchen when I came home for Thanksgiving, but this time was different. This time, the scars were more obvious in the bright bathroom lighting.
Tiny round burn marks that looked like cigarette burns marred his skin, and I felt sick knowing those marks were etched into his memory. Someone had tortured him when he was younger, burning a little boy and abusing him. I’d always known Tyson had been abused, but I didn’t know the extent. Things were becoming clearer the older we got—the more I found out—the more I saw his body.
His behavior made more sense when I thought about the things he might have endured. His fear of being touched, his overprotectiveness of our family—he was trying to save himself and us from the bad things that haunted him on a daily basis. My heart mourned for him—grieved the man he could’ve been had his abuse not broken his mind.
I was angry with people I didn’t know. I wanted to hit them and scream at them for hurting him.
How could anyone hurt such a sweet boy?
And that was what Tyson had been when he came into my life—a sweet and quiet boy—one who had grown into a brooding and quiet man.
He’d told me to leave him alone. He’d told me to stay away, and I’d done the best I could. I’d kept my phone glued to my hand, texting Russell to keep my mind occupied, but it was wrong to use Russell that way, and I felt terrible about it.
To make matters worse, Amber not coming home for Christmas meant I didn’t have anyone to keep me busy. I needed her there to occupy my mind and reassure me that things were going to be okay. I needed her home to take me away from the house and give me a reason to stay out late.
Instead, I was stuck home with my parents, which was fine since I missed them, but that made it nearly impossible to avoid Tyson since Mom was determined to make him a part of every family festivity.
I laid awake in my bed until well after midnight, knowing Brian would have everyone up at the crack of dawn trying to get to his video games under the tree. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t sleep.
Things felt uncomfortable, and it was wrong that I should feel this way in my own home. I had to fix things with Tyson. I needed to figure out a way to take back all the things I’d said and wipe the sexual tension from the table completely.
But how?
How was I supposed to erase all that had been said and done?
We’d kissed and touched, and things had been said and done. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make things weird. Still, I felt like as long as I talked it out with Tyson, he’d agree, and things could go back to the way they were. Well, not exactly the way they used to be since we still had sexual tension, but at least get back to some form of normalcy.
I sat up in my bed, giving up on sleep, and my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten much at dinner, and I was starving. I didn’t bother to grab a robe or anything to cover myself. No one would be downstairs to see me in my tank and shorts since everyone in the house was asleep.
Creeping across my room, I pulled my door open and prayed it didn’t make any noise. The hallway outside my room was dark as I stepped on silent feet to the stairs. I didn’t turn on any lights. I knew my way around my house pretty well and didn’t need light to guide my way.
Once I was in the kitchen, I felt more confident that I wouldn’t wake anyone since they were upstairs and I was downstairs. The tile floor was freezing against my bare feet, but I stepped across the kitchen anyway and made my way to the refrigerator. It was full of leftovers and premade food ready for Christmas day. None of which I wanted at one in the morning.
The counter was a different story, though. Christmas tins full of homemade cookies and the usual things Mom made for the holidays covered it. They were lined up, full of sugary goodness, and calling my name.
I grabbed a red tin shaped like Santa and popped it open to find peanut butter cookies inside. Finding the softest one, I plucked it from the rest and stuck it in my teeth while I closed the tin. I went down the counter, opening tins and pulling out one of each of the things I wanted. By the time I was done, I had three different cookies and a piece of fudge in my hand.
I filled a cup with milk and then set everything on the table across the kitchen. The chair scraped across the floor when I pulled it out and took a seat. I was on my second cookie when I heard someone coming down the stairs. I went still, hoping it was Mom and not one of the guys in the house, but once I saw a set of wide shoulders move into the kitchen opening, I knew it was Tyson.
The kitchen was dark, and thankfully, I was in the darkest corner of the room. I was practically invisible as long as he didn’t turn on the light, and I hoped he’d get what he came for and leave without there being any reason for us to talk. It was late, and even though I’d decided to make things normal between us again, I wasn’t in the mood for that at the moment.
I sat still and watched as he entered the kitchen and went to the refrigerator. When he opened it, the light illuminated the area around him, and I was able to see him. He was shirtless with a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms hanging from his hips.
He was incredibly sexy, his abs flexing as he bent over to search the inside of the refrigerator the same way I had just minutes before, and his back lean and strong. My eyes trailed along his tatted arms and down his side as he scratched at his washboard stomach and sighed.
Finding nothing, he closed the refrigerator and moved toward the counter. Picking up a tin, he popped it open and start digging through whatever tasty dessert was inside. I squirmed in my seat a little, my ass going a bit numb against the hard wooden chair, and when I did, the chair squeaked.
He paused, his head popping up from the cookie tin as he tilted his head trying to figure out who was in the kitchen with him.
“It’s me,” I whispered.
He flipped on the light above the sink, and while it didn’t illuminate the room completely, it did make it easy for us to see each other.
“I was hungry,” I said, holding up a cookie with a shrug.
He grinned. “Yeah, me too.”
“There’s a lot of good stuff up there.” I motioned at the counter. “Leave it to Mom to bake everything known to man for Christmas.”
He chuckled and picked through another tin. “She’s pretty great that way.”
I nodded, and then something hit me. Tyson had never mentioned anything about his own mother, and he never talked about his father. Surely, if his mother were still alive, she’d have taken him in after his father died.
“Do you know much about your mom?” I asked.
As soon as the question left my lips, I knew I wouldn’t be getting an answer. Tyson never got personal, and he never talked about his past. But he surprised me when he shook his head and sighed.
“No. She died when I was really little. I don’t know how old I
was. I’ve never even seen a picture of her.”
My heart broke for him. I couldn’t imagine not knowing my mother. I couldn’t imagine a life without her and my dad.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. It doesn’t bother me so much since I don’t remember her.”
“It still sucks, though.”
With a handful of cookies, he moved around the counter and sat at the table beside me. I swallowed hard at a tiny bit of peanut butter cookie that threatened to choke me.
Maybe Tyson was thinking the same as I was. Maybe he wanted things to go back to as close to normal as possible, and sitting and chatting, which was way out of character for him, was his way of trying. I appreciated it either way. Especially considering how he’d acted and the things he’d said the last time we were alone.
“It definitely sucks, but it’s in the past.”
I nibbled on my cookie once more. “What about your dad? Do you ever miss him?”
At this question, his shoulders went tight, and I watched as his expression transformed his face from relaxed to angry.
“No. I don’t miss him. He wasn’t a very nice man.”
The desire to touch his hand and comfort him was strong, but I didn’t want to spook him and have him run away from me. Instead, I nodded as if I understood and continued to nibble on my cookie.
“Do you like it in New York?” he asked, surprising me.
I shrugged and took a sip of my milk. “Um … not really. I miss home a lot. I don’t think I’m much of a city girl.”
He grinned and put an entire cookie in his mouth. Chewing, he leaned back in his chair. I wasn’t able to see his scars since the lighting wasn’t great, but I was still surprised he hadn’t tried to cover himself the way he usually did.
His shoulders looked even wider up close, and from where I was sitting, I could see details on his tattoos that his shirt usually covered. Staring wasn’t something I wanted to be caught doing, but I did try to sneak tiny peeks when he wasn’t looking.
“What about you? Did you like New York?”
My throat felt dry with my words. Under the actual question were underlying questions that went unasked.
Do you care that I kissed another guy? Do you care about me?
His eyes connected with mine as if I’d asked those questions out loud. He swallowed the rest of his food and looked down at his hands.
“I didn’t like it all that much. Things move too fast there, I think.”
Again, his eyes went to mine, and I could almost hear what he was thinking.
Please don’t move too fast with him.
I nodded. “I agree. I like things slower and more relaxed.”
I couldn’t decide if I needed to put it out there that Russell and I were only friends. It’s not like it was any of his business, but I felt like telling him would lighten the mood somehow. Thankfully, he brought it up before me.
“So you’re pretty serious with this guy?” he asked, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. “I mean does he treat you okay and everything?”
I held back my giggle, but I couldn’t hold back my smile. There he was, being Tyson, my protector.
“And if he isn’t treating me okay?” I asked.
I wanted to see his reaction. Sometimes, it satisfied me when he got protective. Other times, like when he was putting his fist through another man’s face, it worried me.
His head shot up, his eyes taking in my expression to see if I was serious. “I’d kill him. Has he hurt you, Nicole?”
I shook my head, reaching out to touch him before I realized what I was doing and pulled my hand back.
“No. He hasn’t hurt me.” I leaned forward in my chair and tilted my head. “He’s actually just my friend.”
The muscle in his jaw popped with intensity. “I’ve never seen you kiss Amber that way.”
At that, I giggled.
“It was just a kiss, Tyson. It wasn’t serious.”
Again, his eyes roamed my face before landing on my lips.
“So kisses aren’t important to you?” He swallowed after he asked the question, his nerves shining through clearly.
He was talking about our kiss. He wanted to know if it meant anything to me, which was crazy because he had to know it meant everything.
“Yes,” I croaked. “Some kisses mean everything to me.”
At that, he went quiet, his eyes roaming my face and settling on my lips once more. I loved when he did that. I liked to think he wanted to kiss me every time he looked at my mouth, but the fact was, I never knew what Tyson wanted.
The longer I sat there, the more uncomfortable things became. We hadn’t fixed everything. Things weren’t completely back to normal, but at least it was a start.
I slid my chair back and stood. “I guess I’m going to get back to bed.”
His eyes left my face and trailed down my body, and it was then I remembered what I was wearing … a tank and shorts without a bra. Looking down at myself, I could see my nipples had gone hard thanks to the cool air surrounding us. They were pressing against my tank, showing perfectly through the thin fabric.
I didn’t try to cover myself. Instead, I brazenly let him look at me. He swallowed, his eyes moving back up my body before stopping on my breasts. My breathing became harder, lifting them for his eyes and his eyes only.
He stood, his chair scraping across the floor as he towered over me. His eyes moved from my breast to my face, and I didn’t look away, trying to seem more confident than I really was.
By the hungry look in his eyes, I thought for sure he’d make a move, at least I hoped he would. But at the same time, I wasn’t sure I could handle being pushed away again, which was probably what he’d end up doing.
That didn’t happen.
Instead, he turned away and pushed his chair in.
“Good night, Nicole,” he mumbled before he walked away and left the kitchen, leaving me breathless without even a single touch.
ELEVEN
Tyson
CHRISTMAS PASSED WITH no issues. If anything, things got better between Nicole and me. After our late-night talk at the kitchen table, we sort of fell back into our normal ways. I made sure to keep my eyes and thoughts to myself, and she seemed to be doing the same. I appreciated that. It made things a lot easier for me when it came to controlling myself.
I spent the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve working my balls off. I spent three days rebuilding an engine for a vintage Ford, and my nights at the tattoo shop got busier and busier the more word got out about my work. It was a good feeling to receive recognition for my art. I loved drawing, and I loved doing great tattoos.
“It’s good to see you in good spirits again, man. Did you get laid or something?” Nate asked as he wiped his oil-covered hands on an old rag.
I chuckled. “Come on, man, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”
It was total bullshit. I hadn’t been with a woman in weeks, and I didn’t even come with the last woman I was with. Still, the guys didn’t need to know when and where I was dipping my stick. It was my business.
“What are we doing New Year’s Eve?” Stony asked.
Stony had worked at the garage for the last six months but had become a part of our little family pretty easily. He didn’t do tattoos, but he’d still come to the shop after working at the garage all day and hang out.
“I was thinking we should have a kickass party or something. Maybe at the Tiger?” He turned his attention to Nate.
“Hell, no. You guys aren’t fucking up my shop. Gill would kill me if I let y’all come in there to mess shit up.”
Gill was the co-owner of The Blind Tiger, but he mostly dealt with the books and kept to himself. I’d only ever seen him ink a tat once, but it was amazing work.
Nate said he had pains in his fingers and wasn’t up to doing tattoos anymore, but he kicked ass when it came to crunching numbers for the shop.
It worked.
�
�What about your place, Stony? Why don’t we have it there?” Nate countered.
Stony chuckled, his green eyes glistening. “I live with my mom, dude. That shit wouldn’t fly with her.”
The rest of the guys laughed, and I smiled, enjoying their jokes and the happiness around me.
“How old are you again?” I asked Stony with a grin.
“Fuck you. I take care of her, not the other way around.”
Again, the guys laughed.
“You live alone, don’t you, Tyson? Let’s do something at your place,” Nate said, crashing into the computer chair behind the desk.
The desk was covered in old car parts and smudged papers. We weren’t a very organized group.
The apartment I lived in was small, and on occasion, a few of the tenants would throw a party. It didn’t bother me, and it didn’t seem to bother the rest of the tenants. I didn’t see why having a small party would be a problem as long as the guys promised to behave and not tear up my place.
“That works but no fucking up my apartment.”
“Deal,” Nate agreed.
Two nights later, my apartment was full of people. Most I knew, but a few faces weren’t familiar at all. The guys from the garage sat around the kitchen table playing a game of poker, while everyone else stood around chatting, giving the room a small roar just above the music we had playing.
The girls were dressed for the occasion—short skirts and cleavage as far as the eye could see—and New Year’s hats and noisemakers were trickled throughout the room. I kept my eyes to myself, not really noticing any girl in particular even though a few kept their eyes on me.
It was a good night, even if I was drinking less than everyone else was. It was my place. I didn’t want to get too intoxicated, especially not with so many people there. It was my responsibility to keep things running smoothly if I didn’t want my place destroyed.
Taking a swig from my beer, I laid my cards down and won that hand with a full house. I was up for the night, having won several hands. That was what happened when you were laid back and not really trying all that hard. Truth be told, I was trying to throw the hands as much as I could since I knew Nate was having some trouble covering his mortgage.
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