His To Love Part 28

"Blue?"

"Speak of the devil," Chelsea murmured, turning her head to look over my shoulder. "Speak of the s.e.xy handsome devil, indeed."

I snorted and squeezed her hand tighter. "Tell me it's not him."

"Oh yeah. It's him."

"f.u.c.k."

Her eyes went wide and she nodded. "Yup. I would."

"I can hear you two," Tyson said, and from the sound of his voice I knew he was fighting back a laugh.

"Declan called me," he said, swinging a set of keys around his thumb. "Said you two have been out here for a while."

"We called a cab," I explained.

His eyebrows knitted together and he blew out a breath. "I'd like to take you two home."

"Sounds good," Chelsea chirped and jumped to her feet. Tyson reached out, catching her before she fell over.

"I'll wait." I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head.

"It's just a ride, Blue. I don't want you getting in a cab when you can barely keep your eyes open."

"Nothing's going to happen in Latham Hills."

"I bet that's what the women your dad stole off the streets thought, too."

I hissed in a breath, my body instantly vibrating with fury.

Even Chelsea, as drunk as she was, sucked in a breath. "Harsh, Tyson."

He squeezed his eyes closed and ran a hand down his face. "f.u.c.k. I know. I'm sorry," he said when he opened his eyes and looked at me. I saw the sincerity in his eyes, the dark circles under them. "Please. Just let me get you home so I know you're okay."

My glance went to Chelsea. Standing next to Tyson-he still had an arm on her back, holding her up-she shrugged. "Couldn't hurt."

She was wrong. Dead wrong.

Being around Tyson could hurt me. It already had.

I also knew he wasn't going to leave. If I forced it, he would probably end up following the cab around town anyway, just to make sure we didn't get abducted.

My shoulders slumped in defeat and I pushed myself off the bench, slower than Chelsea did so I wouldn't fall as well.

"Fine," I muttered and began walking in the direction he came from. "But it's just a ride home."

Tyson's truck was parked just down the street, so close I was surprised I never heard him pull up. It was late enough that there were few cars on the street and most of the restaurants, with the exclusion of Fireside, were closing for the night. Tyson helped Chelsea into the backseat and then opened the pa.s.senger door for me to enter.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and thick as I climbed into the seat. "For this chance."

"It's just a ride home, not a chance at anything." I looked away, knowing my words lacked the conviction I intended.

"Whatever you say, Blue." He smirked and shut the door just as I began to scowl at him.

"He's not a bad guy," Chelsea whispered as Tyson walked around the front of his vehicle.

When I speared her with an angry look she shrugged, her lips twisting into a mischievous grin. "Just sayin'."

I pointed a finger at her and mock glared. "You're off my Christmas list for getting us into this mess. And I buy kicka.s.s Christmas presents."

She rolled her eyes and leaned against the back of her seat, her eyes closing almost immediately. "We'll see," she muttered, when Tyson opened the door on his side and climbed in.

"We'll see about what?"

"Nothing." I crossed my arms and looked out the window, wis.h.i.+ng like h.e.l.l I wasn't trapped inside his truck.

It smelled too much like him.

I hadn't been this close to him in months, and even though I wanted to ignore him, the pull toward him was strong.

We dropped Chelsea off at her house, and I hated that my heart softened toward Tyson when he walked her up to her front door, helped her inside, and didn't leave until I knew he had heard her front door lock behind him.

He could do so many things so wonderfully, so many things that showed he cared, and I didn't doubt that he cared about me.

I doubted that he loved me like I loved him.

I doubted my ability to trust him again.

It wasn't until he pulled into a visitor's spot directly in front of my apartment building that my drunken mind caught up to what had just happened.

I frowned. "You know where I live."

The apartment complex I moved into was large, with four separate buildings. Each building had three areas for visitor parking, and I didn't believe for a second that Tyson just happened to pull into the one spot with the closest entrance to my third floor apartment.

My irritation spiked as he climbed out of his truck and began walking toward my side. I flung my door open and jumped down, slamming the door behind me.

"I wanted to know you were safe."

"Because it wouldn't be good for your job if your target got hurt, would it?"

"It's not like that," he hissed.

"Whatever." I pulled away from his outstretched hand and dug into my purse for my keys. "Go home, Tyson."

"Not until I know you're inside."

His footsteps followed me up the wooden stairs. With my keys in one hand, I held on to the railing with the other to make sure I didn't fall. I still felt a bit drunk, although the familiar sense of betrayal was quickly sobering me up. But by the time I reached my door, my eyes could barely stay open. I figured I was about five steps away from my couch, where I planned on pa.s.sing out.

I didn't look at Tyson when I unlocked the door. "I'm home now. Happy?"

Tyson slid his hands into his jeans pockets and frowned. "No. I'm not happy."

"Well that's not my fault, is it?"

He inhaled and looked away from me. "No, Blue. It's not your fault. It's mine and I know that."

His sad eyes and tender voice made me swallow down quickly rising emotions.

"I'm too drunk to deal with this c.r.a.p tonight," I muttered and walked inside my home.

I was aware that the door didn't shut behind me, and I knew Tyson helped himself inside when I heard his footsteps following me. The door finally clicked and locked.

My super soft, gray couch was calling my name, and I headed directly toward it.

"Go away," I called out, unaware of where Tyson had gone.

I kicked off my sandals and reached for my chenille throw, pulling it up to my chin after I laid down on the couch. My eyes were beginning to close when Tyson appeared in my hazy vision, a gla.s.s of water in his hand.

"Take the water and medicine. It will help with your hangover tomorrow."

"You didn't give Chelsea the same treatment when you dropped her off." I was pouting and being immature. I also didn't care. He knew where I lived, which meant he'd been following me. Or tracing me.

Or doing whatever he wanted behind my back.

He reached for the blanket, tossing it down to my waist and placed three pills in my palm. "Just take the medicine."

I tossed them into my mouth and took the cup of water from his hand, sitting up so I could swallow it down without spilling. Then I handed the cup back to him. "Happy now?"

"No."

I closed my eyes and set my head on the armrest. I s.h.i.+fted to get comfortable, but then I felt hands on me, arms sliding beneath me, and I yelped in surprise when Tyson hefted me into his arms.

"Put me down!" I shouted squirming in his hold.

"I'm just taking you to bed so you can sleep better. Tomorrow we'll talk."

I shook my head. "We have nothing to say," I replied as he lowered me to my bed. I let go of him, unaware that my hands had been clinging to his s.h.i.+rt while he held me. I kept my mouth shut as he adjusted the covers, pulling them over me while I rolled to my side.

"I have a lot to say to you, and you're going to listen."

"Just leave me alone," I whispered, my heavy eyelids closing again.

"I can't," he whispered. I felt his breath on my cheek and my nose before his lips brushed against my forehead. I s.h.i.+vered from head to toe at that smallest touch. "I love you too much."

I swallowed thickly, that lump in my throat returning. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," he whispered, pressing his lips more firmly against my forehead. "You just wish you did. Now sleep so we can finally talk tomorrow."

I couldn't argue with him. His scent, his touches, and his kisses had rendered me speechless.

Instead, I burrowed into my pillow and pa.s.sed out. The last memory I had was of Tyson's knuckles softly grazing my cheek.

Chapter 22.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee a.s.saulted my senses before I fully awoke.

Rolling over, I cracked one eye open only to find a dark brown coffee mug, with the words "Keep Calm and Drink Coffee" printed in white ink, inches from my face.

"What's this?" I asked, my voice still hoa.r.s.e from sleep.

Tyson set it down on the table next to my bed and took a step back. "Made you coffee."

I narrowed my eyes, flickering my gaze from the mug and then back to him. I sat up in the bed, bringing the covers with me. Memories of last night flashed in my mind, and I remembered Tyson showing up outside Fireside and driving me home. "You stayed."

He crossed his arms over his chest and backed up until his hip rested against my dresser. I followed his movement only to notice that he was wearing different clothes than he had been wearing last night. In lieu of the faded jeans and gray s.h.i.+rt he had been wearing, he now had on black dress pants and a cleanly pressed white s.h.i.+rt.

"You went home and came back?" One eyebrow arched in question.

"Found a spare key in one of your drawers and took it with me so I could get back in."

I reached for my coffee, needing the caffeinated fuel to wake me up.

"How very creepy of you," I replied once I had my first hit of caffeine.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was still earlier than I usually woke up. Since he probably knew that, with his FBI superpowers, I didn't bother with an excuse of running late.

He stood still, watching me sip my coffee, and I stopped looking at him. It was too confusing. My body responded to his presence, my heart beating a little faster, even as a warning blared in my head telling me he was nothing but a liar.

"How long are you going to stand there and stare at me?" I asked when my coffee was almost all gone.

"As long as it takes for you to be willing to talk to me."

I rolled my eyes and set the mug down. "I don't think I have anything to say."

"Maybe I do."

His words from last night flickered through my hazy memory. I can't. I love you too much.

I m.u.f.fled a gasp and looked away.

"There she is," he said. "Now she's remembering."