Page 20 of His to Love
I needed someone who let me be myself without the pretense.
Damn the cocky asshole who made me laugh so hard last night that the sides of my stomach still hurt.
Because it was Tyson I thought about as I left my parents’ mansion. Tyson I thought about as I put my old car into drive and pulled out of the long and winding private driveway.
And it was still Tyson I thought about when I got back to my hotel room, climbed into bed, and grabbed the pillow next to me, inhaling his scent which still clung to the sheets and pillowcase.
—
Waking up after a restless nap, I groaned as I rolled over. Immediately I was hit with the scent of Tyson still on the pillow next to me. It might have made me a freak, but I still pulled it closer, wrapping my arms underneath and pressing it tight to my cheek.
Tyson Blackwell.
Was it really just yesterday that I ran into him? Was it really just this morning when I woke up next to him? Even if nothing happened last night, and I believed him when he said it didn’t, I couldn’t help but feel the small sting of disappointment in my chest that I was waking up alone, still thinking about him.
I groaned again and stretched before getting out of bed. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything besides Clarissa’s lunch. As my stomach rumbled again, I made a quick stop in the bathroom and refreshed my hair and made sure my clothes weren’t too disheveled. Then I grabbed my purse and headed down to the hotel’s bar.
What I really wanted was something more than just food in my stomach. I needed something stronger to take away the pain of seeing my father again.
I wished I could hate the man, but as hard as I tried, those emotions never came. He was evil and did despicable things for a living, but he was still my dad. My flesh and blood, and if nothing else had been drilled into me my entire life, it was that Galeckis were loyal to their family.
It was the only reason why I agreed to meet with Malik. To not consider my parents’ proposal would cause more trouble than it was worth. While just the thought of going through with it, of being with a man fifteen years older than me simply because my dad wanted me to, made a vile taste rise in my throat, I figured one date, maybe two, would appease both of my parents enough. I could at least say I had tried.
“Tequila and a menu,” I told the bartender when I walked up to the bar and slid into a seat. The room was close to empty. It was the tail end of dinner time, yet too early to really start drinking. At least for most people.
While the bartender went to get me a menu, I tried to stop my eyes from roaming the restaurant area, but like a beacon, I homed in on the far corner booth where Tyson and I had sat last night. Memories of the way his eyes seemed to sparkle when he laughed, or the way his perfect smile and perfect face stayed glued to me all night long assaulted me.
As if I was important to him.
It was a foolish thought, one I quickly banished when the bartender placed that tequila shot in front of me. I chose to forgo the salt and the lime and tossed the alcohol down my throat, only cringing slightly.
“Another please,” I said, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. It was an unclassy move, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to forget about what my life had become. “And water.”
“You okay?” the guy asked me, and leaned his elbows onto the top of the glistening marble bar.
I met his eyes and nodded. “You bet.”
His eyebrows rose and his eyes scanned my face, completely ferreting out my lie in a matter of seconds. He was young, probably my age, and his long blond hair made him seem more like a surfer than a bartender. Dressed in all black with a long-sleeved dress shirt and dress pants, he was cute.
Not as cute as Tyson, though.
Which had been most of my problem for the last ten years. It wasn’t like I didn’t date, or never took advantage of men, or hadn’t had my share of times where I’d been the one taken advantage of. But none of it had mattered much because every guy I did date couldn’t measure up to the memory in my head of a boy I had once loved.
“Not sure I like seeing a pretty thing like you slamming back shots alone.”
I smiled at his compliment and was greeted with his smile in return. It was friendly and genuine, and I almost hated that I couldn’t stop thinking that he was tall, but not as tall as Tyson. Built, but not as muscular as…
“How about I get that shot, anyway,” I said, my smile disappearing. “And a prime rib, done medium. Along with more shots.”
He looked at me curiously before finally nodding and walking away.
As soon as he was gone, tension drained from my shoulders. He was right. I didn’t need to get drunk two nights in a row, especially since I rarely drank. The smartest thing would be to cancel my dinner order, head straight back upstairs, order room service, and spend the rest of the night looking for jobs and apartments.
Unfortunately, I had never been that smart, so when he slid two more shots in front of me, I smiled as he took one with me, this time using the salt and lime he provided.
“Thank you,” I said quietly after I set my lime down on the offered napkin.
“If you’re gonna drink,” he said with a wink, “you might as well not do it alone.”
