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I walk into my room and change—making sure to put on a bra—and stare at my front door. I could walk through it. I could stand here. I could…
I could shut the fuck up about thinking and actually do something.
I take a deep breath, and instead of thinking, I start doing.
Of course he’s not here. I mean, why would he be? It’s completely irrational to imagine for just one second that he might be at his apartment at noon on a Tuesday.
I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his door with a sigh. So much for my moment of bravado coming over here. That’ll never happen again.
My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket. I grab it out and put it to my ear without looking. “Hello?”
“Liv? Where are you?”
I stand up straight at Tyler’s voice. “Um…I’m at your apartment. Well, outside it, actually. Waiting. Wait. That sounds creepy.”
“No creepier than me standing outside your apartment, banging your door down to talk to you. Your downstairs neighbor? The old lady? She’s evil.”
Mrs. Rowen. Yup. She’s no joy. “You’re at my apartment? Why are you at my apartment?”
“Why are you at mine?”
“I enjoy the view from the window next to the elevator?”
He laughs quietly. “Okay, Ms. Stubborn, Flighty Bitch. Stay there. I’m coming home.”
He hangs up. I stare at my phone, blinking hard.
Is he at my apartment to talk to me while I’m at his to talk to him?
Why do I get the sudden feeling that Dayton doesn’t really have an appointment with her dress designer?
I think we’ve been set up. And I think she knew exactly how it would go.
Sneaky little fucker.
I press send. She instantly sends back a winking face. Just a fucking winking face.
I’m trying to work this out in my head. Why would she send us both to the other’s apartment? Unless she thought I wouldn’t go anywhere because, okay, I am kind of stubborn. That would make sense. And I kinda screwed that plan up by doing the opposite of what she thought.
Whoopsie. I think?
The elevator doors open and Tyler steps out. Actually, runs out would be a more accurate description. He runs from the elevator, pushes my back into his door, and presses his lips against mine. His hands come up to frame my face and sink back into my hair, tilting my face up to his.
I fist his shirt, completely taken off guard by him. Well, that, I didn’t expect.
“You realize we were set up,” is the first thing I say when he releases me.
Way to go, Liv. Not, “Hi. Wow.” Or, “I’m sorry I was a pushy bitch.” Or, “I’m glad to see you.”
“We were?” He raises his eyebrows and reaches around me to open his front door.
I nod and follow him in, explaining. He cuts me off three quarters of the way through with another kiss and drags me toward the sofa.
“Sit,” he orders, tugging me down with him.
Since I don’t have a choice, I cross my legs beneath me in the middle of the sofa, facing him. Tyler settles his own on either side of me and wraps them around my waist, holding me still. I open my mouth, but he presses two fingers to my lips.
“No. Let me talk.”
