“Come on, one drink.”
She checked the clock on her phone again. Twenty-seven minutes.
“No, thank you,” she said, adding more tightness to her reply than she had the first time.
The guy wasn’t being a flat-out jerk or anything, but not taking no was getting on her nerves.
“Okay, but so you know, my friends are watching and I bet them I’d be able to talk you into a drink. We’re in sales, so this is kind of a big deal, if you know what I mean. You don’t want me to look like I can’t do my job, do you?”
And now with guilt?
No. She wouldn’t reply.
But instead of walking away, the guy planted an elbow on the bar and signaled the bartender. Which meant he’d just given himself license to hang out until the order was up.
Whatever. She was closing in on the high score. Three more veggie skewers and—
“So, Hibachi Catapult, huh?”
Maggie closed the game and turned to the guy, trying to figure out what she could say to put him off without having to be a total bitch about it, when a set of broad shoulders wedged between them and a deep voice that did a not-so-welcome thing to her belly cut in.
Tyler.
“ ’Scuse me, buddy. Think my friend here is saving me a seat.”
Friend? What a laugh.
Three hadn’t been able to spare her a single insult since their cookie incident at Ford’s.
Mr. Sales straightened, a look of irritation flashing across his features as Tyler leaned into the bar.
“Hot Doc running late?”
He knew about her date? Of course he did. But only because diarrhea of the mouth was something of an epidemic with her friends. Their friends, she grudgingly amended.
He wouldn’t have cared himself.
She slanted a look at him again.
No, he wouldn’t. And she didn’t care even if he did.
“Got stuck at work. But he’s coming,” she stressed. “What are you doing here?”
Hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, he nodded toward the band. “Guy I know through work is playing.”
He glanced back at the drink pusher. “Saw you come in and figured I’d make sure you weren’t getting hassled or anything.”
She shifted uneasily. “Thanks.”
“So what’s the story?” he asked, not looking at her. “You have an ETA?”
There’d been a time when no way would Three have let the obvious jab go unthrown. He’d have been on her about getting stood up. About an imaginary date from the Niagara Falls area or keeping her expectations realistic. About keeping the faith. But now? Nothing but polite.
Detached.
“He was supposed to be leaving the hospital fifteen minutes ago, so it should really be any time. You don’t have to stay.”
“I’ll go if you want. Or I can stick around until he shows up.” With a nod down the bar, he added, “Keep the flies off.”
Her suitor was still watching, like he was expecting another shot. And if she told Tyler to take off, that’s exactly what she’d be giving him. She didn’t want to owe Three a favor, but…“Don’t think this gets you off my cookie blacklist.”
His chest rose and fell in a way that looked suspiciously like he’d given in to one of those single-breath laughs. Sliding onto the stool next to hers, he said, “ ’Course not.”
A minute passed and she checked her phone, uncomfortably aware of Tyler beside her. It was as if half her body had gone prickly. As if someone was holding one of those statically charged balloons a millimeter over her skin and she knew at any second it was going to make contact.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “This is weird. Sitting here not talking to you is making me annoyed.”
Forearms folded on the bar in front of him, Ty slanted a look over at her. “You want to talk?”
She shouldn’t. Only as she sat there, running her fingers back and forth across the bar’s smooth finish, she realized that yeah, she did.
“I want to know what your problem is.”
He didn’t say anything, but the sudden hardening of his jaw told her he’d heard.
“I don’t need to be your best gal pal. Trust me, I’ve got plenty of friends,” she assured him. “But, I don’t know, for a while there, it seemed like maybe we had something?”
He shot her an alarmed look and this time, Maggie was the one letting out the laugh. Another sidelong glance and she sighed.
“See, here’s a perfect example. That look of unparalleled discomfort on your face right now is all but begging me to let the wrong idea you’ve latched onto sit awhile, just so I can watch you squirm. It’s what I would have done before, because that kind of sporting bitchery was our thing. And I was good with it. But then suddenly, everything’s different and you haven’t got an insult to spare. So here I am, obliged to clear up a rather spectacular misconception. Which stinks.”
Ty’s eyes closed and, rubbing his palm over his mouth, he muttered something unintelligible she was fairly certain had four letters and packed a decent punch. But even behind that big hand, she could see the way the lines of his face had changed—the relief and amusement pushing his features around and digging creases where they hadn’t been before.
With his left arm resting on the bar, he shifted on his seat, turning toward her and bracing the right over his leg. His eyes landed on hers and held in a way that made her heart skip a beat. Because suddenly Tyler wasn’t shutting her out at all.
He was connected.
“So what you’re saying is, you miss me,” he said, the deliberate twisting of her words warming her heart and spurring her to push farther.
“Yeah. I pass you on the stairs and it’s barely a nod. I miss the way you used to look at me. With all that pent-up cranky, like you couldn’t wait to find the right weakness to exploit. What happened to the jabs and cheap shots, Apartment Three, what happened to us?”
She was expecting a mouthy retort. A sharp dig, just to show they were good.
But instead, Ty let out a slow breath and looked down at the floor. “I didn’t want to be an asshole. Not a real one, anyway—but back at Ford’s with the cookies, it felt like I crossed a line. I thought if I backed off, stopped acting like a prick, maybe we could coexist in the same circle. You know?”
Yeah, that cookie business had thrown her for a loop, too. But where she’d thought a little mutual trash talk would get them back on track, apparently Tyler had thought it better to pretend she wasn’t there.
“I guess I do. But wouldn’t it have made more sense to, I don’t know, try being nice? I mean, as a rule with guys like you, I’m not really into that kind of thing. But it seems like maybe something you might have at least thought about. Since it looks like apparently we will be sharing circle space.”
She was trying to play it off like a joke. But the truth was there in her too-quiet delivery of the last word, in the way she couldn’t make herself look away from his face for fear she’d miss some telling clue to help her understand why. Because it bothered her that Tyler seemed to fall into fast friendship with everyone else she knew and yet, from the first minute with her…not interested. That’s what he’d said.
What was it about her—aside from the months of name-calling, cheap shots, and relentless antagonism in general, because deep down, she knew he liked that stuff as much as she did—that bothered him so much?
And what was it about him that made her actually care?
A muscle jumped in Tyler’s jaw and something she thought might be regret filled his eyes, but her phone lit up, breaking the contact between them and sending her attention stumbling back to where it belonged. To the date she was supposed to be closing out November with.
“Maybe this is Leo,” she offered, hoping he was one of those guys who texted that they’d arrived the second they pushed through the door. Only as her eyes dropped to the small screen, her throat went dry and her stomach dropped.
—
> Leo. Not Hot Doc.
Why the hell did that bother him?
Maggie read the guy’s text and the corners of her mouth pulled down, a furrow pinching between her brows.
“Still held up?” he asked, catching a wave of disappointment from her that had his molars grinding together.
Big, vulnerable eyes met with his, and her throat worked up and down as though she were having trouble getting the words to come. “That was a nurse texting for him. He got called back in to an emergency surgery. He can’t make it.”
And yeah, like he didn’t know what was coming next, even before Maggie swiveled around in her seat and started scanning the crowd.
“Don’t even think about it, Maggie.”
“Maggie?” She laughed, only the sound was strained, flat. “I thought we’d gotten past all that.”
Right.
He checked his phone. Gina hadn’t called, not that he’d expected her to. And he’d made sure she wasn’t among the customers when he’d come in. He wasn’t jeopardizing anything. He wasn’t betraying anyone or anything, and he wouldn’t. Because that’s not what this was about. This was helping out the girl downstairs. Nothing more.
Turning back to Maggie, he took a bracing breath and, reaching out, caught her chin.
“Yeah, well, I’m not about to call my date Apartment Two. It doesn’t exactly smack of ‘open to the possibilities.’ ”
The seconds ticked past as Maggie absorbed the meaning of his words. She blinked. Coughed once. Opened her mouth and then closed it again.
Finally, she licked her lips and folded her hands together in her lap. “Look, Three, it’s sweet of you to offer, but I don’t think a date’s such a great idea. I’m not sure I could really sell the whole ‘open’ business with you.”
Tyler grinned, probably enjoying her discomfort a little too much—although apparently she was into that kind of thing, so maybe it was okay.
“From the way I read it, all you have to do is agree to the date with a willingness to accept the possibility that as hard as it may be to even consider, I might be able to make you want something more.”
He should have ended it there, but the part of him that couldn’t live with being the dick who’d left her hanging when she’s basically asked flat out what was so hard about being nice to her wouldn’t let him. So he did the thing he’d been avoiding for months. “Hey, if I can’t convince you to fall head over heels for me, maybe at least I’ll be able to convince you to give the friends thing a shot.”
Maggie’s brows went high and then her eyes narrowed on him speculatively, that spark he couldn’t resist firing in their depths. “Pity friendship?”
“Obviously.”
This time her laugh was the real deal. Rich and full, it was the kind a guy felt in his chest and kept hearing long after it actually ended. The kind that could get him in trouble if he wasn’t careful. But he would be careful. He had too much at stake not to be.
Maggie cocked her head at him, flashing a distracting length of neck as her hair tumbled over her shoulder. She leveled him with an arch look. “Fine. So we’re clear, I’m not falling for you.”
Tyler flagged the bartender and ordered a couple of drinks, casting her a smug smile. “Why’d you think I was willing to offer?”
Chapter Six
After a drink’s worth of riding piggyback on Hot Doc’s date that didn’t happen, Tyler claimed rights to deciding what they did next.
“Not exactly the most romantic setting for a date,” Maggie teased from her molded plastic seat. This guy was full of surprises.
“You ask me, bowling is the ideal first date,” Ty said, testing out one ball and then replacing it with another, the ropelike muscles of his forearm flexing with each movement. “Bowling gives you an activity to keep you from having to stare across a table at someone you may or may not have an hour and a half worth of conversational potential with. You get to see what they’re like in a competitive situation without it being too serious. And you wear comfortable shoes.”
That last being something Maggie hadn’t been crazy about, but Tyler insisted on stopping and buying her a pair of socks on the way over, promising her toes would thank her tomorrow.
“Besides, compatibility of the nonphysical variety doesn’t get enough credit in the early dating arena. I mean, yeah, the whole zing business is important. But if you’re looking at starting a relationship as opposed to hooking up a couple of times…turn off the bedroom eyes and see what it’s like to hang out. Have fun.”
“You realize how hard I’m working not to make a crack about you looking for an excuse to finger sixteen pounds of ball, right?”
Tyler looked down at his feet, a telling grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
God, he had a good smile when he was willing to share it.
Maggie stood up, testing the feel of her lace-up triple tones. “So first-date-wise this is how you roll?”
“It is now.”
She shouldn’t be curious. “But it didn’t used to be?”
Tyler stepped up to the line, his eyes unreadable as they focused on the pins at the end of the lane. “Okay, babe. Let’s bowl.”
Strike.
—
Hours later, Maggie crawled into the back of a cab laughing as Tyler slid in behind her.
“You are such a shameless gloater,” she accused, completely delighted.
He gave the driver directions and then leaned back with a wink, satisfaction all but oozing from his pores. “You like it. I can tell.”
She did. Enough so she found herself losing track of the pact, her rules. And for a moment, they were just a guy and a girl on a date so good it made her want another.
“What I can tell,” Maggie started, pulling her scarf out of her pocket and wrapping it around her neck, “is someone has a dirty secret about bowling being his favorite pastime.”
“Natural athlete is all,” he assured, reaching to adjust her coat so the scarf rested beneath, and inadvertently drawing her closer in the process.
The unexpected sensation of his fingers sliding between her collar and skin brought an end to her laughter as his hands followed the lapels of her coat, pulling the sides together and spurring a nervous stir in her belly that had no business being in that cab with them.
She moved to take over the task, but their fingers brushed, and once again the warm tingle radiating from that place where they touched caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily stunned by her completely misplaced reaction.
This didn’t happen to her.
Not anymore.
So why, twice now, had she found herself responding to Tyler on such a base, physical level?
The deep slate of his eyes met hers, darkening all the more when they returned to where he still held her coat, his large hands nearly encompassing her smaller ones.
“Tyler,” she said, his name sounding breathless, unsure.
“You should button this,” he said. Then carefully, deliberately, he let her go, giving her arm a friendly pat before leaning back in his seat. “Temperature’s dropping.”
She nodded, working the buttons to give herself something to focus on besides him and that disconcertingly not-so-anomalous-after-all pull in her belly coupled with the unwelcome realization that it had felt good. Good enough that some small betraying part of her wanted to test the connection again.
Fortunately the controlling majority of her psyche remembered all the reasons not to.
The moments passed along with whatever brief tension there’d been. But then Maggie could feel him watching her. And when she hazarded a glance toward his corner, sure enough, there were questions in his eyes.
“Whatever it is, just ask.”
“Hot Doc. You disappointed it didn’t happen?”
Before tonight, she wouldn’t have been able to imagine Tyler asking her something like that…and even more, that she’d consider answering honestly. But over the past few hours, she’d seen a side of him he hadn�
��t shown her before. A side that was human, thoughtful, and funny in ways that went beyond slung insults and cheap shots. They’d talked. And yes, he’d couched each new inquiry and subject change in the context of topics a “real first date” might bring up, but the ensuing conversations…they’d been genuine. Sincere. Easy. And now, as they rode home in the quiet dim of their shared backseat, slivers of city light rolling across the interior, Maggie wanted to tell him the truth.
“Disappointed? No. Well, I mean, when he cancelled, sure I was.” Following Tyler’s lead, she shrugged into her corner, getting comfortable as she let her knees slide toward his and tucked her feet back. “But I think mostly it was because I’d been so relieved thinking I had this month in the bag. I had a guy who looked like he might actually make a decent date. And to be down to the wire and suddenly need to scramble again?” She shook her head. “That short-lived anxiety wasn’t my favorite part of the evening.”
“You say ‘a decent date’ like it’s a rare thing. I don’t get it. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and fun. I know you’ve got a list of qualifying requirements about the length of a city block, but still. You finding a good date ought to be as easy as a trip to the 7-Eleven. What’s the problem?”
She let out a humorless laugh. “I’m the problem. I’m not actually interested in finding some perfect guy, because honestly, I like my life the way it is. I only agreed to the pact because Ava didn’t want to go it alone. So each month, I have to find a guy the compatibility isn’t really there with from the start. That way, when it’s over, I don’t have to worry about him getting his hopes up or his feelings hurt when I’m not receptive to a second date.”
Truth or Dare Page 4