Page 100 of Something Like That

“Where are we going?” Her voice was a little cracked around the edges, but overall, not bad.

“To get something to eat. And maybe a drink.” His mouth turned down in a fierce frown. “Yeah, a drink would be perfect right about now.”

A couple of hours later, she was nursing her second glass of wine, sitting across from Tyler in a booth at the bar of one of the downtown hotels. She assumed it was the one he was staying at. It was high-end, and way out of her price range.

She’d tried to bow out, go back to her hotel and… well, probably cry, but he wouldn’t have it. Had insisted she come with him, blaming his terrifying fear of eating alone. She doubted that was the case. He didn’t seem like the kind to worry about such things. And he was far too handsome and charismatic to be alone for long if he didn’t want to be.

The only reason she’d relented was because the earliest flight home she could get didn’t leave until tomorrow at noon.

The waiter came by and picked up their empty plates. Well, his empty plate and her half-eaten burger. She’d thought that bad-for-you comfort food would make her feel better, but she’d barely been able to eat anything. And what she had eaten was currently sitting in her stomach like it’d been dipped in lead.

“Feeling better?” Tyler took a sip of his beer. He’d been patient, keeping the conversation light, avoiding anything volatile, like Nick and their crash-and-burn relationship. It probably helped that she’d been lost in her own thoughts and wasn’t feeling very chatty. And that his side of the table was facing the TV and there was a game playing.

“Not really.” She slid her thumb up and down the stem of her wine glass. “But thanks for hanging out with me.” This time she was able to give him a small smile. Yay, progress.

His phone chimed and he picked it up—he’d gotten a couple of messages during their meal, but she couldn’t fault him for reading them. She was hardly good company. Besides, they probably had something to do with his job.

She swallowed the last of her wine and placed the glass on the table. There wasn’t much point in hanging around any longer. Tyler had been great, but she just wanted to be alone to lick her wounds in peace. She needed to grab a cab back to her budget hotel and cry it out. Maybe in the tub. Once she’d had a good, long cry, she was sure she’d feel better. Then, tomorrow, she’d go home and get on with her life.

Move forward, as always.

“I’m going to head out.” She grabbed her purse. “Thanks for this. Not that I was good company. But I appreciate it.” Her voice sounded relatively normal, so that was good. She slid some cash onto the table to pay for her dinner and drinks.

He covered her hand with his, trapping her before she could slip out of the booth. His face was solemn. “Don’t give up on him.”

Apparently, tip-toeing-around-the-elephant-in-the-room-time had come to an end. She shook her head, exhaustion sweeping through her. “He gave up on me.”

“That’s not true, Alex.” He squeezed her fingers. “He’s just had a lot of shit thrown at him these last couple of weeks.”

She nodded. There was no denying that. That Nick was still standing, still functioning, was a testament to his strength. It just sucked he’d refused to let her help him carry the burden.

Just like you let him help with the building and the business, you mean?

She smothered that thought before it could gain traction. Rehashing her stupidity wasn’t going to help. Both she and Nick had made mistakes, done and said things to hurt each other, even if it hadn’t been intentional.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” he said, his voice soft and serious. Very unlike the Tyler she was coming to know. “Just don’t make any decisions until you at least talk to him.”

“I’ll try, but I think it’s too late.”

He glanced over her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

She looked over her shoulder.

Nick stood there, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, like he’d been running. Why was he running? He shouldn’t be exerting himself so soon after a head injury. He was glancing around the bar like he was searching for something.

Or someone.

Without thinking, she slipped out of the booth, unsure of what to do with herself. Part of her wanted to run to him, the other part wanted to run away.

His gaze landed on her. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi-truck. Time screeched to a halt. She forgot how to breathe.

“Thank Christ.” His exclamation was loud. Just about everyone in the bar turned to stare at him.

He strode toward her, coming closer and closer and closer. His gaze devoured her, like a starving man let loose at an all-you-can eat buffet.

She didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to think.

He stopped in front of her, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his coat. The bandage was still on his forehead, but the smudge of blood had been wiped away. His eyes were clear, the glassy fog from earlier completely gone. Heat radiated from him. She wanted to lean into it, let it thaw her icy skin.