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“Most people don’t.”
I liked what she had said. Even if a part of me fought innately against it, the rest of me felt lighter, free, and less wrapped up in my own head somehow. Giving Tyson a second chance wasn’t a life-or-death decision, like she had said. It was a simple choice. A little risky, of course, but still worth it.
“Are you going to call him or what?” JJ asked before pushing my cell phone closer toward me.
I reached for the device, held it in my hand, and stared at the screen while she slowly stood up and tossed our empty coffee cups into the trash.
“Just do it already. Put the guy out of his misery.”
“Fine,” I relented, and she grinned, clearly proud of herself.
“It’s about time. Only took you seven years,” she said in a smart-ass tone, and my mouth dropped open. “Too soon?” she asked.
I nodded. “Too soon.”
LET ME LOVE YOU
TYSON
When my cell phone pinged with another text message, I almost didn’t look. My phone went off at all hours of the day and night, mostly with a bunch of bullshit messages and unimportant things. But something prompted me to check, and thank God I did.
It was Eve. And she was asking if we could talk.
I’d gotten a hotel at a fancy golf resort right down the hill from her place last night, hoping that she’d reach out at some point today. I had known, if she did, I’d be desperate to see her, and the last thing I wanted was to be back in Santa Monica. It was too far, and I was too impatient.
Me: I’m still in town.
Eve: Here? In Newport?
Me: Yeah.
Eve: Do you want to come over?
Me: On my way.
I wasn’t going to give her a chance to change her mind or meet in a public place, where we couldn’t be intimate without prying eyes. This thing between us was a private matter, and there were things I wanted to do to her…privately. That was, if she let me.
Her wanting to see me had to be a good sign. Why would she invite me over just to tell me to take a hike?
I quickly threw on some clothes and asked the concierge where to get the prettiest flowers. After getting his directions, I headed that way first. I would not be showing up at Eve’s house empty-handed.
I planned on romancing the hell out of her. I’d already set up multiple deliveries with a florist for while I was gone and on set in London. Eve would be getting flowers every five days until I got back and could hand-deliver them myself. It was definitely presumptuous of me, but I was confident.
With the most extravagant bouquet of wildflowers, sticks of some kind, and roses sitting in my passenger seat, I hauled ass up the hill to Eve’s. When I got there, I noticed a car parked in front of her garage. Pulling into a visitor space, I grew a little anxious. What if this was some kind of setup or trick to humiliate me?
When I walked up to her front door, it pulled open before I could even start knocking. A punk rock–looking chick stood there, dressed in all black leather, blocking my entry as she looked me up and down.
“I’m sorry, Tyson. She wouldn’t leave until you got here.” Eve’s voice rang out from somewhere inside the house.
“Well, Tyson, you have me to thank for all this anyway,” Punk Rock said before finally moving out of the doorway so I could come inside.
I gave her a questioning look. “Uh, thank you?”
“Exactly. You’re welcome.”
Eve appeared, her long golden hair cascading around her shoulders. She was in a tank top that hugged every curve of her upper body and a pair of jean shorts that should never be seen outside of this house.
“That’s JJ,” Eve said with a grin before eyeing the enormous bouquet I still held.
