It’s a sad state of affairs when men stop ogling me like I’m a piece of meat. I mean, I never liked it, but damn.
I stare at the laminated instructions attached to the printer. I’m just changing out a black ink cartridge. Easy, right? I can totally do this.
Awesome. Now I’m giving myself positive affirmations over office equipment.
My therapist has me saying positive affirmations. Stuff like I am lovable, I am special, I am worthy of loyalty. Supposedly, if I say it enough, it sinks in, and this halo of doom I walk around with—that everyone and anyone will leave me—will dissipate and I won’t push people away with my negative vibe. My therapist is quick to state it’s not my fault that these things happen. I had bad luck in the parental department, with the exception of the Sallees, who’ve done their best to make up for what my biological parents lacked. But she says it can’t hurt to build a positive internal dialogue.
My therapist has some crazy theories, but I like her.
You know what? Positive affirmation or not, this office shit is intimidating. Like this, for instance. Do not throw used toner cartridge into open flame, as this may cause the remaining toner to ignite. I mean, seriously, what is this—gunpowder?
Whatever. I can do this. I am capable. I am smart.
“Open toner replacement cover. Pull toner cartridge out of supply port,” I read aloud.
Done and done.
I walk to the supply cabinet and grab the box with the new black toner.
“Hey.”
My body jerks and I slap a hand to my chest, glaring at the handsome figure in the doorway. “Holy shit, Tyler. Don’t walk up on a girl like that.”
He steps into the room. “Why so tense? I’ve been standing here for the last minute watching you talk to yourself.”
Okay, embarrassing. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
His lips purse in thought. “Maybe, but this is more entertaining.”
“Changing printer cartridges is entertaining?”
“Watching you do it is.”
I glare at him. “You can leave now.”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” He crosses his arms, his mouth turned up in a grin.
Awesome. An audience. And Tyler of all people.
Whatever. It’s just a printer. So what if said printer comes up to my chest and resembles R2-D2? I’ve got this. I read the instructions.
I open the cartridge box and ignore Tyler in his hot security guard uniform, which has less to do with the uniform and more to do with Tyler’s amazing body filling out the tailored fabric.
Damn it. Now I’m thinking about how good he looked in his swim trunks.
I take a deep breath. No way am I going back to the instructions with Tyler staring over my shoulder. That would give him more ammunition to make fun of me. I remember what the instructions said. Mostly. How hard can it be? Something about removing the seal and shaking the cartridge while holding both ends, probably to get the toner to loosen up.
See? Common sense. I can do common sense.
I remove the seal as instructed, which comes off easily, and toss it in the trash can. Holding both ends of the toner all casual-like, as if I’m a pro—
“Wait—”
I give it a good shake.
And splatter black shit all over my shirt, the floor…the wall?
Fuckballs.
I hear soft snickering, and turn to see Tyler pinching the bridge of his nose, seemingly holding back tears. Dammit.
“You might want to wait to remove the seal until after you’ve shaken it,” he says.
I pat at the black powder on my blouse. “And you’re just now informing me of this?”
“I tried to stop you. You acted like you knew what you were doing. Or were you pretending?” His eyes say he knows the answer to that question.
“Jerk.”
“Hey,” he chuckles, closing the door as another worker tries to peek inside, “don’t get mad at me.” He steps closer and surveys the debris. “It’s not so bad. Keep your voice down and we can get it cleaned up without anyone knowing.”
Tyler removes the toner cartridge from my hands and inserts it into the machine, expertly closing the cover and resetting a couple of buttons.
He looks at my white blouse covered in inky soot. “That’s a goner.”
“You think?” I say, pure sarcasm.
I hastily grab paper towels from inside the storage cabinet and wipe the soot from my hands. Tyler tears off a paper towel as well and starts dabbing at my sleeve, my chest, which I realize is also splattered with toner. Excellent.
He reaches for a spot near my collarbone, and his knuckle grazes my nipple. It’s cold in here, and I’m agitated, and well, shit, I’m a bit nippy.
I must gasp—I sure as hell stand stock-still—because Tyler stops what he’s doing. He stares at his hand an inch from my breast now, frozen in mid-wipe. He doesn’t say anything. The awkward tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Then his gaze lifts to my eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily.
His empty hand moves up and I watch it warily. Suddenly, the tension doesn’t feel so much like awkward, more like another type of tension I’m not used to, but sense on a regular basis around Tyler. He cups my jaw, the tips of his long, warm fingers grazing the nape of my neck.
I close my eyes. I know where this is going. I feel it. The irresistible pull. I can’t look. I’m on a rollercoaster about to drop off the highest hill, and I won’t look to see if he follows through with the promise in his eyes.
Warm lips meet mine and the faintest moan escapes my throat.
Oh God. I’ve waited so long. I didn’t know I was waiting, but I have been. Waiting for Tyler.
His fingers slide into my hair, his hand angling my head while his mouth delves deeper, the touch of his tongue hitting me in places far more south. I’m dizzy, my heart pounding in my chest as our mouths collide, retract for soft kisses, then melt together again. I don’t dare lift my hands and touch him, afraid I’ll break the spell.
The sound of a throat clearing has Tyler breaking away. He stares at me with heat in his eyes before glancing over his shoulder.
“Hello, Ms. Tate. I was just leaving,” he says hurriedly, his voice gruff. He glances at me with an enigmatic look, then steps out the door, while Hayden passes into the room.
I don’t remember the door opening. I didn’t hear anything except the pounding of my heart as Tyler kissed me—in front of my boss.
This is a classy place, and I’m making out in the copy room. Great, just great.
“Hayden,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
She shuts the door, and turns to me. “He’s cute,” she whispers, though it’s only us in here.
“I—what?”
“I mean, you guys shouldn’t—you know—at work, but you definitely should. I almost walked out. I felt like I was intruding.” She fans her face. “I need to get out more, because that was”—she nods as if agreeing with herself—“hot.”
Who is this teenybopper? Hayden is my young, but formal, MBA boss, not this slightly flushed girl gossiping about a boy.
“I spilled toner. He was, uh, helping me?” It comes out as a question, because I’m not sure how we went from cleaning up to our mouths inhaling each other. Hayden grins suggestively, then glances at the arm I raise as proof.
She winces. “I’ve got a cardigan you can borrow.”
“Thank you.” I wipe the last of the toner off the wall and move to the door, my body gliding, half-dazed. What just happened with Tyler? And does Hayden really not care?
“Mira—” Hayden touches my arm, startling me. “I’m all for romance, but you can’t do that here.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
She nods decisively. “We can’t give them any reason to doubt us.” She doesn’t say whom. “I have some clout, because I’m helping the casino’s image, but I don’t want to give Blue a reason to fire me. An
d you shouldn’t either.”
“I promise, Hayden. What you saw was…” I can’t finish my sentence. I don’t know what just happened. Something I never thought would.
Tyler kissed me. And I felt it everywhere.
We live together, but he’s never initiated anything like that. I don’t know why he did it here, now, but I’m not complaining. Except—I can’t lose my job, or endanger Hayden’s. She’s right. We can’t step out of line at Blue. But man, I hope…
I won’t finish that thought, because whenever I hope for something, my wishes never come true. Only I’ve been dreaming of kissing Tyler ever since he returned, and that dream came true.
“Nessa,” I say as I dip a chicken tender in barbecue sauce. I just got off work and we’re in the Blue cafeteria, in the basement, eating dinner before she begins her shift. “Do you think dreams come true? Like farfetched ones?”
Nessa sprinkles salt on her french fries. “Sure. But I guess it depends on the dream. If you’re planning on flying to the moon…?”
“No, of course not. It just seems like, well, wanting something ensures it’ll never happen.”
Nessa studies me for a moment. She’s in her Blue cocktail uniform, the bustier of her sequined top pushing up her small breasts into half-moons. She has the tiniest waist and beautiful, straight black hair. I have to pull my wavy mass into a ponytail first thing in the morning, otherwise it’s a nest. “I guess sometimes that’s true, but I think it has more to do with the thing you want not being right for you. Like, even though you want it, you’re not meant to take that path, you know?”
Her words are honest, and they really suck.
My heart has always told me Tyler is right for me. But whether I’m pushing him away, or he’s pushing me away, it’s never worked out.
Then today happened.
Something changed, or maybe we’ve been moving in this direction from the very beginning. Tyler kissed me. It was new and familiar at the same time, and so honest it spoke more than any words we could have shared.
No wonder Hayden walked in on us without me noticing. The fire alarm could have gone off and it would have taken me a minute to figure out where I was. Tyler’s kiss was heat and emotion, and it drained the brain cells from my head.
“What if there was a chance to have what you thought you couldn’t? A person you always wanted to be with.”
“Um—go for it?” she says as if it’s a no-brainer. “If I could…Well, let’s just say, if I liked a guy, which I’m not saying I do, but if I did, I would jump at the opportunity to seal the deal.”
I swirl my chicken in the barbecue sauce, my cheeks growing warm at the idea of going down that path again with Tyler. “Really? What if that’s all there was?”
I’ve been there before, and it hurt so badly to watch Tyler leave town. Can I go through it again?
“Better to have loved and lost, you know? I’m pretty sure someone really smart said that.” She grins, proud of herself.
She’s right, though. I’ve dreamt of being with Tyler for what feels like my entire life, and now there may be an opening. A small one, because he seemed as surprised by the kiss as I was. But if he’s having second thoughts about me, about us trying again…I’d like to give it a chance.
Who am I kidding? I totally want him. There’s no question.
“You’ve changed,” Nessa says, her expression serious.
“What do you mean?” Are my emotions showing on my face? Or worse, has the kiss gotten around? I haven’t noticed a grapevine, but I’m new. People talk.
She tilts her head. “You seem happier.”
I smile shyly. “Thanks.”
My therapist has helped me deal with my mom issues. And this new job—despite my office bloopers—has challenged me and gotten me excited about work. Shit is still going on, but I feel happier.
“Your mom has put you through the wringer, Mira. No one could go through what you’ve had to and not be affected by it. But I’m really proud of you for getting help. You’ve been cool about Lewis spending time with Gen.”
I’m not proud of how I behaved when Lewis first started dating Gen, and it sucks to have the reminders. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad he’s with her. At least he picked a good one.”
“True. You never know with those guys.” Nessa’s mouth firms and she grabs her soda, taking a sip.
The only guy left in our crew is Zach. Is she saying she doubts Zach’s ability to pick a nice girl?
I can’t argue with her there. Zach is a flighty one. At first I thought he might have a thing for Nessa, but it never went anywhere. In fact, they seem more buddy-buddy than ever.
“I don’t think you should give up on a happy ending,” she says. “Focus on good things, and good things will happen.” She giggles. “Deep, huh?”
“Maybe not, but I think you’re on to something.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I arrive home from work after dinner with Nessa, and a black sedan with tinted windows pulls away from the front of our house. It’s out of place in our neighborhood, and it reminds me of another time when something was out of place. Deep in the woods, when the men popped up out of nowhere.
I wrap my arms around my chest and walk quickly up the driveway. Once inside, I lock the front door, unsettled. I’ve grown used to having Tyler around. There’s a sense of security to it. I can’t help but feel disappointed he’s not here, especially after what happened in the copy room. I’m not sure what the kiss meant today, or if his absence now says anything, but I’d like to know.
I take a shower and shave my legs. I’m totally not preparing for anything. It’s just that my legs are a forest. Basic girl hygiene is all this is. I smooth on vanilla-scented lotion and grab a pair of low-slung sleep shorts from the bedroom dresser, along with a sleep cami.
Towel-drying my hair, I leave it down. I could blow-dry it, but what if Tyler walks in and thinks I’m primping? The last thing I want is for him to think I’ve cleaned myself up for his benefit. His ego is inflated as it is. I don’t want him to think I’m waiting for him.
When he walks in, I’ll act as if he didn’t kiss the sense out of my head. That way, if he’s changed his mind about this kissing business, there’s no discomfort. On the outside I will be totally cool.
Inside, not so much.
I pull on ugly, fluffy sleep socks and kick my legs up on the couch, phone in hand. I could watch TV, but I need something to take my mind off Tyler. I open my poker app and check to see if SuperMom is connected. She’s an Oklahoma stay-at-home mom who kicks my ass weekly.
SuperMom is online, which is no surprise. I think she plays poker with whoever will participate while she takes care of the kids. I don’t let the “mom” in SuperMom fool me anymore. She’s sweet, but she’s a shark, so I’ll have to concentrate. Which is what I need. A good mind-number.
Six or seven hands in, I recognize the sound of Tyler’s Land Cruiser pulling into the drive. There goes my concentration.
Me: Gotta go, SuperMom.
SuperMom: Okay. Kids finally down. Stop by later if you have time for another ass-whooping.
She’s so modest. I needed another ass-kicking like I need more reasons to make an idiot of myself at work, but at least SuperMom is nice. I bet she’s a really cool mom. Mine hasn’t gotten in touch with me, and it’s what I expected. I was prepared for her silence, but it still hurts. This time, though, I’m not letting my pain take me down the wrong road. If my mother wants a relationship, she needs to meet me on fair terms.
I don’t move from my spot sprawled lengthwise on the couch, my legs crossed and resting above the armrest on the opposite end. I check my email, some Yahoo! sensational news posts, which I’m too distracted to focus on. Finally, the sound of the front door cracking open has my shoulders tensing. I immediately loosen them and click through another news article. I almost dropped my monthly data plan, but it’s the only extravagance I allow myself. My only connection to the outside
world. I couldn’t let that go.
I hear Tyler close the door and sense him approaching the couch.
Finally, when I can’t take it anymore, I glance up—and can’t look away.
Tyler is standing above me in jeans and a T-shirt, staring at my bare legs. His gaze skims to my eyes.
Oh, shit. Mayday, mayday.
It’s on.
Tyler tosses his keys on the counter—same spot he always leaves them—without removing his gaze from my face.
He leans down and grips my ankle above my fluffy socks. I stare at his large, hot, electrifying hand as it slowly slides up my leg. My heart is racing, about to catapult from my chest, which is seesawing up and down because I can’t control my breathing. With his other hand, he reaches for my phone, which I realize I’m clutching like a knife, and gently pulls it away from me and sets it on the floor.
The hand on my leg makes its way to my hip, and a puff of air escapes my mouth. The urge to reach for him is excruciating, but if he wants this, he needs to make it happen. I won’t be the one to seduce him this time.
I stare into those pale blue eyes that are suddenly a lot darker, with the pupils covering most of the irises. Both of his hands are on my hips now, and he’s watching them as they glide up the sides of my waist, his thumbs slipping over my breasts, until his palms cover my chest above my raging heart, up to my neck, and finally to my jaw, which he cradles, staring at my lips.
I’m going out of my mind, crawling out of my skin. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I don’t know how much longer I can keep from grabbing him.
Tyler leans down and his lips touch mine, so sweet, so tender, my entire body shakes. This kiss is different from the one in the copy room, which was hot and desperate, like water filling the cracks of a desert floor. This kiss is poignant, with so much longing behind each gentle brush.
I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him close, because I got the message. He wants this, and so do I.
Tyler braces a hand on the back of the couch and covers me with his body. My leg slips to the floor and his hips seat between my thighs. I can feel him hard and big against a very tender place that happens to be pulsing at the moment, but he doesn’t move or grind. He runs his fingers through my hair, thumbs rubbing my temples. “Mira…” He lets out a sigh, as if no more words need saying.
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