"Once the Fighters transfer the deposit, the keys will be available for pickup," she nearly purrs as she slips the card into his shirt pocket. I'd expected Tyler to be wearing just a t-shirt like most of the new players, but instead he's wearing a Tommy Bahama button down Oxford casual and looks amazing in it. "But I think I can let you do some mental decorating now. Call me if you have any problems."
Tyler gives her a knee weakening smile and she almost floats out the door as he and I look around. He's excited, and I realize that for him, this is the first time he's actually rented his own place. When he turns around on the balcony and is sporting a ear to ear grin, I can't help but return it. "This is pretty fucking awesome!”
"Tyler, as someone who's rented her own apartment for a while, trust me, the charm wears off," I reply, shocked at my forwardness. I've never been this forward with the other players, I'd just let them run wild. That's probably been part of my problem, actually. Maybe I am following Mr. Larroquette's advice, or maybe it's just because it's Tyler.
Tyler's grin doesn't falter, and he waves me toward him, turning around to lean against the railing of the balcony, and giving me a nice view of his butt. "Come on April, look at this," he says, his eyes looking out over the lake. "Isn't this a great view? And you're right, I'll be close to the water. By the way, why'd you say no water yesterday?"
"It's great now, but come the end of the season and through winter, the wind off the lake can be chilly," I answer, leaning on the railing next to him. "Toronto's pretty cold in winter. Hope you like snow."
"I guess I can put up with it for a few weeks, before the Cup, you know? Off seasons back in Cali, come up here in spring . . . hell, it'll be nice weather year-round for me."
His words throw ice water on the reality of my situation, and I swallow deeply. "Yeah, I guess that'd be nice."
Tyler blinks, and realizes what he just said. "Yeah . . . sorry about that. I'm not trying to throw shade on Toronto, just . . . ah hell, you know."
"I know."
Tyler's grin comes back and he looks at me. "Let me make it up to you. I noticed down the block from the hotel the other day there was a pretty nice looking club. Do you ever go out clubbing?"
"Not often," I admit, with not often meaning not ever. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that even in regular social events I end up keeping the potted plants company while other people have fun. I could never imagine getting the guts worked up to actually go to a club with the sexy people.
"Well then let's go. I can be your wingman."
I laugh, I can't help it. "My wingman?"
"Sure," Tyler continues, not getting that I know what a wingman is, but laughed because I've never seen myself in a situation like that. "I mean, it's gotta be the same here as it is in L.A. You go out to a club by yourself, and you look desperate, lonely. You go with a wingman though, especially one who is the opposite sex, and suddenly you look confident and attractive."
“I… I guess," I say, looking down. "What's the club?"
"Ace High, I read about it on the Internet and I double checked the address last night, it's close," Tyler says, and I nod. I've heard of it. At least Tyler didn't ask to go to a swinger's club like Double X or Hedonista. He's handsome enough that he could get in the door despite their usual rule of women or couples only. "What do you say?"
I take a deep breath, and before I can answer, Tyler leans in, his shoulder pressing against mine. Chocolate and batteries . . . Jesus, I'm still so turned on by him. "I'm not ordering you as part of your work. I'm just asking if you’d like to go have some fun?”
“O… okay," I stammer out. Keep him out of trouble, they said, and here I am taking him to a club. Or he's taking me. Or . . . ah to hell with it. "I'm going to need to change though."
"Yeah," Tyler agrees. "We both do."
"Well, first we need to get you some furniture, set up delivery for tomorrow, and then go to the Fighters' offices to get that check cut for the real estate company. I can do the check and stuff by myself, but it’s your place, you’ll need to be there for the furniture."
Tyler grins and punches me in the shoulder lightly, just like he used to all those years ago. "Sounds great. Let's go."
I feel frumpy. It's the only word to describe it, looking at all the hot girls in their skin tight dresses that show off every curve they've got, or nearly illegally short skirts that are even hotter. Meanwhile, I'm here in a knee length skirt and blouse that, while kinda see through, is nowhere near as sexy as what I see around me.