Page 8 of His to Love
This was asinine. Stupid.
“Not getting in the car without you,” Tyson said, a wicked gleam in his dark blue eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring my stance, except his smile told me he found this funny.
There was nothing funny about this.
“Lady, I gotta get moving,” the cab driver shouted in his thickly accented, Middle Eastern voice.
I had lost. I knew it. Besides, it wasn’t this man’s fault that I happened to know the most conceited man in Detroit, possibly all of the state. Or world.
“Fine,” I huffed and pushed past Tyson. Sliding into the backseat of the car, I quickly told the driver the hotel where I was staying and the address.
Tyson slid in next to me, victory plastered all over his cocky face.
As the taxi pulled away from the curb, I felt the burn of tears in my eyes, and I looked out the window.
I would never let him see how much he affected me. There was too much at stake with my family right now for me to have anything to do with Tyson.
Not that I wanted something to happen, anyway.
Lie.
Argh. I pressed my head against the window, closed my eyes, and spent the next thirty minutes ignoring the man next to me.
—
“You’re kidding me.”
Tyson grinned. “Nope.”
I stared at him in the lobby of the Apollonio Hotel and felt my eyes cross. “You are not staying here.”
He shrugged. It was full of nonchalance and cocky swagger. My fingers itched to smack him. To grab him by the lapels of his suit and shove my lips against his just to wipe the smirk off his face.
Bad idea. Bad, bad, bad idea.
I needed a drink. Or twelve.
“Told you before…I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what happened. And, what that tantrum on the plane was about.”
I ran my fingers across my forehead and sighed. “Can’t we just…I don’t know…not talk about that? Or just pretend we don’t know each other?”
He slowly shook his head back and forth. Determination heated his eyes, and I hated this. Being too close to him was dangerous. Telling him the truth was worse. It took me years to get over Tyson. Being stuck on a farm in the middle-of-nowhere, Colorado, didn’t help give me other things to think about. Besides my aunt’s goats and chickens, I’d had no one to talk to. No one to help me forget about the boy who had broken my heart.
“Tyson,” I started and he cut me off.
“Just a drink, Blue. Let’s get caught up then. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you.”
He missed me. Something fluttered low in my stomach. A small grin stretched my lips even though I knew this was stupid.
“Then will you leave me alone?”
His lips twitched, as if the question was plain old silly. He also didn’t answer. No, the new cocky and arrogant Tyson spun on his heels and headed to the check-in counter.
I hustled after him. He could put my luggage in his room and hold it hostage. Based on the way he’d been behaving, I wouldn’t put it past him.
When I reached him, he waved me forward, allowing me to get in line before him. The whole time the front clerk was working, Tyson stood next to me, silent and if I wasn’t mistaken, a little bit broody. His sudden attitude shift unsettled me, and I found myself nervously tapping a random beat on the marble countertop.
By the time I took my keycard and thanked the woman, I was so lost in thought that I barely registered it when Tyson slid up to the counter and asked, “Do you have a coat check where I can store my bag for a few hours?”
