I grabbed the plate he had added two strips of bacon and a slice of toast with butter to. “What are the basics?”
He piled food onto his plate. “Eggs and bacon, obviously, and biscuits and gravy. Also, spaghetti, tacos, beef Wellington.”
I choked on the bite of bacon I was chewing. “Beef Wellington is basic?”
Tyler chuckled. “No, I’m just kidding.”
I cut a piece of egg and stuck it into my mouth. It had a slight nutty-buttery flavor and was delicious. “This is really good. If this is any indication of her cooking, I bet you enjoyed some great meals growing up.”
A slight frown became visible on his face as he sat at the island next to me and it gave me pause.
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.
He shook his head as he dunked his toast into his yolk. “Not really.”
I arched a brow. “Okay …? You just said—”
“I know. Jamie, who I call mom, is actually my stepdad’s ex-wife.”
My mind was swirling, and I wasn’t sure if it was from being slightly hungover or what, because I wasn’t putting the pieces together. He called his stepfather’s ex-wifemom? I didn’t have to wonder long before he cleared it up.
“My father married my stepdad, Chase, when I was fourteen. Jamie and Chase have two kids together, who I’m super close to, and it didn’t take Jamie long to slip into the mom role for me and my brother. My biological mother sucks, and I’m not close to her at all.” I nodded and he continued. “Our family dynamic is a bit unusual, but”—he played with his bracelet, I’d returned to him—“that’s why it meant a lot when you gave this back. It was a gift from my stepsister.”
“That’s awesome you all are so close.” I took a sip of coffee. I wasn’t going to touch the comment about his biological mother because it wasn’t my place, but he was opening up to me and I didn’t want to stop him. Tyler Statler intrigued me and this was another layer of who he was.
“What about you?” he asked. “Didn’t your mom teach you to cook?”
I shook my head. “We were more of a takeout family because my parents worked all the time. I don’t think their oven has ever been used.”
“What do they do?”
“They ownThe Hub Tribune.”
“Oh, is that where you work?”
On the first day of class, I’d mentioned my work as a photojournalist, but had left out the details about the media company that had been owned by my family for generations. “Yeah. And my parents were both dedicated to their careers. And once they took over for my grandfather, they ran everything. It’s their baby.”
“Is that why you got into photojournalism?” Tyler drank some of his coffee.
I finished a piece of bacon and nodded. “I’ve always had a passion for photography. It helped that I had cameras and a dark room at my disposal whenever I needed.”
“That’s awesome. What made you become a professor?”
“I—”
My cell rang in the other room and I got up and headed toward the sound. I couldn’t remember where it was exactly, and the ring was muffled. Following the tone, I found it in my coat pocket. It was my mom.
“Were your ears burning?” I asked when I answered the call.
“What do you mean?”
“I was just talking about you.”
“With who?”
I turned and looked at Tyler as he still sat at the island eating. Who was he? A friend? A lover? A hookup? A friend with benefits maybe? Of course he held one title that I couldn’t tell anyone: student. I decided on a blanket term. “A friend.”
“A friend or afriend?” She emphasized the last word to give it an entirely different meaning.
