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What the fuck is wrong with me? That shit could burn the hair off a bald monkey.
"That," I say, pointing my finger at Tyson, "was another question, so I get to ask the next two." Laughing, he waves his hand across the table, conceding to my demand.
"So, what's your favorite childhood memory?"
I can see the memories flit around in his head based on the nostalgic look that crosses his face, but he doesn’t take much time to come up with his response. "I'm not sure I ever told you this, but when I was younger—I can’t remember how young exactly—Dallas would hide under my bed. Sometimes he would do it in the middle of the day, other times at night, but he would be really quiet and when I was relaxed or maybe even on the verge of sleep, he would use his hands and feet and bang on the bottom of my mattress." Scooting forward in his seat, Tyson fights back a laugh in order to finish his story. I want so badly to smile back at him but fuck me, the mention of his brother is like a punch to the stomach and I pray that he can't see my discomfort. "Damn," he continues, "that used to scare the living shit out of me. I think that one time he scared me so bad, I actually pissed my pants."
"That's a nice memory." A twinge of disappointment flashes through me that his favorite memory doesn't include me, but I quickly shake it off. Tyson worshipped his brother so I shouldn't be surprised.
He shakes his head and takes a drink. "That's not the part that makes it the best. I would always get so mad, but then I would see Dallas rolling around on the floor, laughing uncontrollably with his arms wrapped around his belly. He would laugh so hard that he would cry. That's what makes it my best memory. I don't remember a lot of happy times with Dallas, but that memory stands out. When I think of Dallas being happy and healthy, that's what I think about."
An uncomfortable silence falls between us, the emotions floating off of us are practically palpable in the air. I finish my drink and signal for another round after Tyson finishes his.
"Okay," he says, clapping his hands together. "If that little trip down memory lane doesn't call for another shot, then I don't know what does." I don't respond, instead I smile knowingly and grab a glass, joining him in another shot. "Your turn again."
I look around the bar slowly, contemplating my next question. When did they dim the lights? I look down at my watch and I'm surprised at how much time has passed. The fight on the TV seems to have ended and a band is setting up their equipment on the small stage. I'm glad that we arrived early enough to get our own table, but a small part of me wishes that we were forced to squeeze in next to each other by the bar. That way I could accidentally brush against him or—
Friendship, Harley, I remind myself. You're supposed to be getting to know him again, not finding ways to molest him.
"Alright. Next question." Taking a deep breath, I relax back into the booth. I can't believe I'm about to ask him this, but it's killing me. I need to know. "So, what happened with Brit? Why did you guys break up?"
Tyson goes still. His eyes bounce around my face nervously, and I can't help but wonder what he's nervous about. It's an easy question. There is a reason for the breakup, and I want to know what that reason is. His eyes widen slightly, and I can see the battle ensuing behind his russet gaze. He inhales deeply and runs his hand across his mouth. Reaching for his beer, he takes several long drinks while my mind starts running in a million different directions about what could have happened between him and Brit. I can see it in his eyes—he isn't going to tell me.
Cocking my head to the side, I raise my eyebrows, silently encouraging him to answer the question. My anticipation is quickly slashed when he averts his eyes and takes a shot.
"Now who isn't answering the hard questions?" I murmur sarcastically.
"You have your reasons for not answering my question and I have reasons for not answering yours. No more arguing about question selection, remember?"
I tip my head and glass at him in acceptance of his response, and then what he says next both excites and scares me. "I'm going to tell you what happened with Brit, but now isn't the right time. I need us," he says, waving his hand between the two of us, "to be in a certain spot and we aren't there yet. It may take awhile before I'm comfortable enough to give you that answer, but I promise you, Harley, it will happen."
Reaching up, I twist my finger around a lock of hair and start twirling it in an attempt to calm my nerves. I study Tyson's face, trying to see what's going on behind that dark gaze, but he's closed off. I can't tell what he's thinking. "Your turn."
"Were you and Levi ever together?" Goddamn, he's making this hard. I reach across the table and take another shot. "Seriously? You're not going to answer that question either?" he snaps.
"Nope, I'm totally going to answer you...I just needed a shot first. You know, liquid courage and all." I reach down and check my phone for any missed calls. I know I'm stalling, but I need to think this through. He doesn't know I know he came back for me. Maybe Tyson is just trying to figure out if Levi was telling the truth. Picking my words carefully, I straighten my back and prepare for the conversation that I should have known would come.
Tyson casually sips his beer, his eyes trained on mine, watching me curiously. "Levi and I have had an interesting friendship," I say slowly, giving myself time to think of the right way to tell him everything. Taking a deep breath, I find my resolve and continue. "We were never in a relationship. But we, umm...we had more of a ‘friends with benefits’ thing going."
He furrows his brows and his lips clamp together, forming a thin line. Ironically, I find the glare he's giving me erotically sexy. If he gave me this look in bed, I'd expect him to follow it up with a firm s
mack to the ass. I let my eyes close and internally roll them at myself. I know I shouldn't be having these thoughts, but I can't help it. He's sexy as hell and I've thought about him every day for the past five years. Here he is, sitting in front of me and looking better than I remember...how in the hell am I supposed to keep my thoughts PG?
Okay, I battle with myself. A little ogling and fantasizing has never hurt anyone. I'll just keep it to myself.
"Impossible," he says with a shake of his head. "No male and female can have an honest-to-God 'friends with benefits' relationship and keep all the emotion out of it." He's upset. I can tell by the tick of his jaw and the way his arms are crossed over his chest, effectively closing himself off.
"I disagree. You can believe what you want, but I'm telling you the truth. Levi and I have no emotional connection other than that of friendship. We were using each other and that's all. Nothing more."
"Using each other? I don't understand."
"I don't expect you to understand because you don't know what I went through after you left. No," I stop him as he starts to open his mouth, shaking my head, "let me finish." Tyson reaches out and grabs a shot glass, downing the dark content. He lets the glass land roughly back on the table and he watches me...waiting. I reach across the table and grab the final shot glass, keeping my eyes trained on his as I down the clear liquid. A warm sensation rushes to my arms as the alcohol starts to take hold in my body.
"A lot happened after you left, Tyson. I was in a dark place for a long time." My head drops between my shoulders and regret overwhelms me. Tears threaten to slip out but I fight them back.
I can't look up at him. I don't want to see the questions in his eyes. He wants specifics. He wants to know what I'm talking about, but I'm not prepared to tell him tonight. Soon...but not tonight. "There were times I didn't think I was going to make it,” I continue finally. “I had a lot of dark thoughts running through my head. There were a few times I thought my parents were going to have me hospitalized—"
"Because of me?" he interrupts frantically, and I flip my head up to find his face awash in panic. "You were like that because I left?"
