“I’ve been trying to stay away from you, Tyler. I really have. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”
“Too late!” he yelled. He rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t come here to fight,” he said, exasperated. “I’m so tired of trying to hate you.”
His words cut deep, the pain settling in my bones. I could barely form the words. “Then why did you come?”
“To see you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had to see you.”
I reached for him again, this time slower, testing the waters. Tyler kept his hands on his hips, his gaze bouncing everywhere but on me. I pulled him close, sliding my hands under his arms, hugging his middle, and then pressing my cheek against his chest. His body heat radiated off him like a fever, a thin sheen of sweat dampening his skin. I breathed him in, knowing if I just gave in we might be just a little less wounded, a little less broken, but I was stuck between being too selfish to let him go and too contrite to let it go too far.
The door to Turk’s was opening and closing in a steady rhythm. People were walking by, quiet and curious. Until that instant, I hadn’t noticed we’d gained a small audience. Tyler acted as if we were the only two people in that alley.
“I’m glad you came,” I whispered.
He’d been frozen since I first grabbed him, his arms held stiffly at his sides. After a few seconds, he hugged me back. “Are you sure about that?”
“I miss my friend.”
His chest rose and fell as he inhaled and then breathed out, letting go of whatever he was holding on to. “Your friend.”
“I know. I know it’s so fucking selfish,” I said, closing my eyes.
“I guess I’ll take what I can get.” I couldn’t see his face, but he sounded crushed.
“You promise?”
He touched the back of my hair, and then kissed the crown of my head. “No. No, I don’t promise. Fuck this, Ellie. I don’t want to be just friends.”
I took a step back, fidgeting. “Yeah. I get it. I mean … of course. Who would after…? It was a stupid thing to say.”
“I told myself I wasn’t going to push it, and I pushed it. I know you’re fucked up. I’m fucked up, too. I have no clue how to navigate this, and you … goddamn, you make this a thousand times harder than it has to be. But I’m not going anywhere. I can’t. I don’t want anyone else.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Too fucking bad. We can figure it out later when you’re ready. I’ll back off, but we’re not just friends, Ellie. We never were.”
“What if I’m never ready?”
He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, hope glistening in his eyes. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of when you wanna be. I think you will be.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked in disbelief. “I’m a lost cause!”
“Then so am I.”
I covered my eyes, trying not to cry. “It’s like talking to a fucking wall! You’re not hearing me, and I’m not that good of a person to pretend I don’t want you in my life. I’m trying to do you a favor, Tyler. You have to go away. You have to be the one to do it. I’ve tried. I can’t.”
“I’ve already told you,” he said. “I’m in love with you. That’s not going away.” He cleared his throat. “Are you going to Wick’s for Thanksgiving?”
I blinked, shaken by the sudden swing in conversation. “What? No.”
“Not home? Not somewhere with your family?”
“Finley asked. I’m just not … ready.”
“Why don’t you come home to Eakins with me?”
“Come home with you.”
He breathed out a laugh, frustrated. “It’s going to be tough. It’ll probably be awkward. But no matter how hard it is, it’ll be easier than you being alone—and easier on me than worrying that you’re alone on Thanksgiving.”
I considered his offer. “I feel like this is a crossroads.”
He grinned, holding out his hand. “So cross with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked, nudging my knee with his.
I shook my head, staring at the back of the driver’s head. Travis’s window was cracked while he smoked and chatted with his wife, neither of them thinking to adjust the heat while the frigid air filled the car.
Travis was too big for the tiny silver Toyota Camry he was driving, smiling far too often at his wife. They were holding hands, chatting about their break from their sophomore year of college, and how this Thanksgiving would be better than the year before.
She lifted their hands and slammed them down on the console, feigning insult. “Really? You had to bring that up.”
He grinned, smug. “If it gets me some sympathy points, baby, you’re damn right I’m bringing it up.”
She made a show of settling back into her seat, failing miserably at pretending to be angry. “No points for you. Be nice or I won’t marry you again.”