“C’mon Dean,” Rachael murmurs, “you have to admit that it makes it awkward for the rest of us.”
“I don’t find anything awkward,” Dean states, expression calm as he shifts his gaze back to her. I can sense that he’s lying, but I know he’s only trying to fight my corner, so I remain still beneath his touch. “Nothing’s awkward unless you make it awkward, which is exactly what you’re doing right now.”
Rachael presses her lips together. “All I’m trying to do is bring everyone back together,” she says, but she sounds a little sad. She says nothing more, though, and turns and heads for the same bedroom as Tiffani, leaving Dean and I alone.
He turns to face me, looking a little deflated. I don’t think any of this has turned out the way they’d planned. “Maybe it was a bad idea asking you and Tyler to come over here,” he mumbles. “We wanted to surprise you guys, and I just had to see you tonight. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Well, here I am,” I say half-heartedly. I laugh, but it’s not genuine. I’m starting to feel sick. I can’t handle both Dean and Tiffani being in New York. It’s too much to cope with all at once.
“And people say the skyline is the most beautiful thing in New York,” he says, lips curving into a smile as he raises his eyebrows at me. That’s when I notice he’s shaved that awful stubble he’d been growing.
I roll my eyes and push his shoulder. “God, Dean, really?”
“I just had to,” he says. His wide grin reaches his eyes as he places his hands on my shoulders, his gaze mirroring mine. “In the month that you’ve been gone I’ve thought of so many corny phrases I can throw at you.” He kisses me then, and because we’re alone this time he runs his hands down my body, from my shoulders to my waist. He kisses me like it’s the first time.
I find it hard to kiss him back with enthusiasm. How can I? I try, though, because I’m not ready to raise any suspicions yet. I’m trying to act normal. I’m trying to act as though I’m not in love with his best friend and I’m trying to act as though I’m not going to be telling him the truth very, very soon.
I’m the one to pull away, when kissing him becomes unbearable. Shrugging, I frown and glance over to the door. “Dean, I should go,” I say quietly. “Tyler’s waiting in the car.”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” he says. Finally, he releases his grip on my body and steps back. He’s still smiling. “Us three are gonna head out for something to eat, anyway. See the city, I guess. But tomorrow, we’re hanging out, okay?”
I don’t think that’ll go down well with Tyler and I find myself stammering that I have plans already tomorrow, but Dean just looks confused. I don’t know what to do: Am I supposed to continue to act normal around him or am I supposed to give him the cold shoulder so that he knows something’s up? I can’t tell which will hurt him less, so I end up agreeing to a date tomorrow night instead.
All of this is too much to take in, and as I’m sharing a goodbye with Dean and yelling bye to Rachael through the bedroom door, I realize that my hands are shaking. I get the hell out of the hotel suite as fast as I can without looking like I’m desperate to leave, and I don’t wait for the elevator. I’m in too much of a rush to get as far away as I can from both Dean and Tiffani, so I take the stairs, jogging down all ten flights of them at an uneven pace before striding through the main lobby. I burst through the main doors before the doorman even has a chance to open them for me, and he arches an eyebrow at me as I jog by him.
Thankfully, Tyler’s car is still parked against the sidewalk, still outside the Santa Fe Opera. The engine is running, and I promptly throw open the passenger door and slip inside, yanking the door shut behind me.
Breathing heavily, I immediately glance at Tyler. His body is stiff against the seat, both hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles have paled, his arms rigid. He doesn’t even look back at me, only clenches his jaw as he continues to stare out the windshield.
As he parts his lips to speak, all he can say is, “What the fuck do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” I say. Groaning, I throw my head down against the dashboard and run my hands through my hair. I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to process everything that has just occurred, but it all just feels like a messy blur. I can’t piece anything together. Slowly, I lift my head back up and turn to face him. “Tyler, should we tell him? I mean, it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
“We have to tell him,” he says, but he’s talking more slowly now and his voice is much calmer. He shifts his stare to mine, worry within our eyes. “I know we were going to wait until we got home to tell him, but he’s here now and we’ve got to do the right thing for once.”
“When?”
“What?”