And before I can doubt myself, I head straight for the door without even stealing a glance in the mirrors as I walk by. I still feel rather shameful for trying to coerce Tyler with my little black dress, but I try not to think about it too much as I reach for the door handle. All I can think as I swing open the door is, God, jealousy sucks.
I topple into the living room, suddenly nervous, and immediately my eyes drop straight to the carpet beneath my heels. I can feel the three of them looking at me, sense their gazes. From beneath my eyelashes, I see Snake sitting on the worktop where I was sitting earlier, and I can just about see Tyler widen his eyes beside him. Emily is at the other side of Snake and, surprisingly, she’s the first to speak.
“Wow!” she says, her accent strong. “You look amazing, Eden!”
I glance up then, because I wonder if she’s being sarcastic. I study her so intensely that again I must appear rude. I never seem to reply to her. Or smile at her. Or even acknowledge her half the time, for that matter. But her expression seems honest, and I realize that she’s not kidding at all. She’s genuinely complimenting me. It’s always been something I’ve loved—girls complimenting other girls. And now, suddenly, I feel so awful for gaining satisfaction at the thought of her appearing less than me simply because she’s still wearing jeans and a hoodie while I’m in a dress and heels.
“Thanks,” I murmur. I can’t look straight at her, mostly because I feel a little ashamed, and so I turn to Tyler and Snake instead. Tyler doesn’t look like he’s head over heels in love with me yet, whereas Snake’s nodding.
“Little Eden from the forests of Portland brushes up alright in the end,” he comments. There’s a mischievous smirk on his lips once again and I believe he’s waiting for me to mutter something back at him, but I’m no longer in the mood to have another playful argument.
Tonight, I’m in the mood for Tyler.
“You look nice,” he finally murmurs.
I shift my gaze to his. He’s looking at me, his eyes running my body up and down, and as Snake turns around to change the song and Emily fixes herself a drink, he smiles. Just a small one.
It’s not enough for me, so I breathe a sigh and head for the couch. Admittedly, I strut my way across the living room, kind of hoping that he’s still looking, but I doubt he is. I sit down on the couch closest to the windows, the couch that sort of belongs to Tyler, the one he’s been sleeping on. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself now that I’m ready too early, so I simply stare out the windows instead. The evening sun is shining in, and down below the traffic is forever endless, but that’s nothing new. I start to focus on the people on the sidewalks, who look tiny from up here. I wonder if they live here in Manhattan. If they’re here on vacation. Business trips. Visiting family. Runaways. I wonder about them all so thoughtfully that I barely register Tyler sitting down by my side.
I glance sideways at him. “Hello,” I say. The second the word leaves my lips, I mentally roll my eyes at myself. Hello?
It’s like he doesn’t even hear me, because instead of saying anything in reply, he slowly moves his body closer against mine so that we’re touching. It takes me by surprise, especially with Snake and Emily only a few feet away from us, and he even goes so far as to place his hand on my knee as he leans in close, right by my shoulder. “You look better than nice,” he whispers. His voice has adapted that edgy, husky tone once again. I stare at the veins in his hand on my knee as he breathes against my ear. “But I know you understand that I couldn’t say out loud that you look hot as hell.”
He squeezes my knee gently as he draws away from me, expression nonchalant, as though he isn’t flirting. Innocently, he raises his eyebrows. I’m now completely content, not only because my little black dress seems to have worked well, but also because Tyler’s by my side again.
Unable to reply, I blush and bite down on my lower lip. That’s when I catch a glimpse of Emily again out of the corner of my eye, and I focus back on Tyler. “What took you guys so long? You were gone for an hour.”
All Tyler can do is shrug. “Uh, yeah, we got talking and—”
Talking? He and Emily got talking? What’s that supposed to mean? What was there to even talk about? All they were doing was buying some freakin’ limes. “Okay, that’s it,” I say, pushing his hand off my knee as I press myself up to my feet, “now I definitely need a drink.”
I can hear Tyler sigh as I walk away from him, and as I make my way back into the kitchen, Emily heads off to get ready. It’s a good thing that she does, because if she stuck around here with me the only type of acknowledgment she’d get is a glare every five minutes. Once she brushes past me, I lean back against the worktop and smile rather widely at Snake. It’s my best attempt at hinting that I’m now ready to start drinking.
“Boston bartender at your service,” he says in a thick accent. He even offers me the smallest of bows.