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Tuning them out, I sip my drink and watch the flames dance in front of me, going over how many different ways this night can go wrong. And when their voices start to filter into my headspace again, and I hear them talking about Ash and Mel’s weddings, I have to leave.
I can’t.
Standing, I chug the rest of my drink, and get a head rush of alcohol. They call out behind me as I walk away, but I just keep going, needing a little space.
I’m too focused on walking without tripping on the grass, that without warning, I find myself colliding straight into another hard body. I really need to watch where I’m going.
“Oh, sorry,” I mutter.
When I don’t get an answer, I realize the feel of this body is too familiar, and I look up. Mesmerized by a pair of aqua eyes that rival none, I’m sucked into his orbit like gravity, and I can’t look away.
“Tyler,” I breathe, sinking into his touch. His arms came around me instinctively when I ran into him, and now they tighten slightly, holding me to him.
The feeling of safety and warmth washes over me, and I wish things were different.
“Hi,” he says, righting me on my feet.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night,” I tell him, my hazy brain thinking honesty is the best policy in this situation.
“You have?” he counters. “I saw you with Caleb earlier.” His smooth voice rolls over me like a warm summer breeze, and I know if he wasn’t already holding me up, I would sway where I stand.
“I know,” I admit. “I…” I start, but his scent overtakes my senses, and I forget my words for a moment.
Every night for the past two weeks, I’ve slept in his t-shirt that I wore when I ran out that morning. But every night, his scent became less and less potent, and now that he’s in front of me, I’m dizzy with how much it fills me.
Tyler releases me in a flash, and I stumble back a step, regaining it in time to watch him walk away from me.
He doesn’t even want to talk to me.
I see a few people around me staring, so I turn on my heel and head off in a direction I know will provide me a little peace.
On the other side of the back porch steps, it’s dark and secluded, with only a small strip of grass between the railing and the rocks that drop off into the ocean.
The water laps below, and I take a seat on one of the flat rocks along the edge, the voices of the party now just a dull hum behind the music.
Why did I hesitate back there? I don’t know why it’s always so hard for me to voice my feelings. With my past boyfriends, I’d always wait until they told me how they felt before I ever said anything. It’s a fear of rejection, I guess.
A lone tear falls down my cheek, and I swipe at it like it’s on fire. I can’t be thinking that I’ve lost all hope with Tyler, or else I really will have.
He’s different. We’re different. That means I have to be different for him.
Standing, I brush off the back of my jeans, and take slow, deliberate steps back, running through what I want to try and say to Tyler. But when I reach the stairs, I look up at the back door, and freeze.
Tyler is emerging with his arm around some woman’s shoulders, and hers is around his waist. She’s smiling like Tyler just said something funny, and he’s looking down at her like she’s just the cutest thing in the world.
What the ever-loving fuck is going on?
I’m stock still at the bottom of the porch steps, the loud music doing nothing to drown out the thoughts in my head that are coming a million miles a minute.
Tyler doesn’t notice me standing here until he takes his last step down the stairs, and his eyes lock with mine, surprise apparent.
Looking the woman I don’t recognize up and down, I take her in. She’s in an oversized men’s t-shirt and jeans, and my face shutters closed.
It’s his shirt.
I know, because I saw it in his drawer when I took the one on top of it the day I left.
Tyler’s arm is draped around her shoulders so casually, and I have to fist my hands at my sides to keep from hitting the bitch who took him from me.
