I can tell by his sigh that he’s rolling his eyes.
“Jesus, Tessa. I thought you said Sunday. Ever heard of calling ahead to confirm?”
“In my defense, bro, you don’t usually have company the next morning.”
Tyler stops, rests a hand against the countertop, and rubs his forehead.
Tessa snaps her head toward me with wide eyes. “No offense. Crap. I think I’m jet-lagged. I’m sorry.”
“No worries,” I offer.
“Okay.” Tyler turns and hands her a cup of tea. “You drink this, replace your brain-to-mouth filter, then for the love of my sanity, and go to fucking bed. The spare room is made up for you. I’ll take you out for dinner tonight.”
“Okay.” Tessa meekly takes the tea. “Really, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, honestly.” I give her a genuine smile. She’s so fucking adorable.
“Sure. Right. Okay. Going now.” She waves goofily and turns off to the left.
“To the right. Third door!” Tyler yells, shaking his head.
“Fuck you very much!” she shouts back, making an about-turn in the hall.
I watch the mini exchange with a smile slowly spreading across my face. These two are like bread and butter and chalk and cheese. It’s incredible to see. So alike but so different.
I also get why he’s so protective her. She looks so innocent, so freakin’ cute, but her personality totally makes up for it.
I mean…wow.
Tyler runs his tongue across his teeth with a grin. “I need some ibuprofen already.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around his waist. An uncontrollable urge to just hold him is coming over me. A scary, enticing urge I simultaneously want to fulfill and fight.
His arms circle me tightly and he breathes me in deeply. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“Yet. I think I’m already kind of in love with her,” I tease.
“Oi!” He nuzzles my cheek. “You don’t get to fall in love with her first. I’ll have to withhold all spankings if that happens.”
“That’s quite the threat.”
“Mhmm. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to love anyone other than me. Ever.”
“I never said I did love you.” Wow, this is awkward.
“Does it matter? You’re still not allowed.”
“What if I never love you?”
“Then you best hope Angus lives another fifty years, ‘cause you’re totally fucked, babe.”
I smack his ass. “Bastard.”
He pulls back and grins. “Breakfast?”
“If you’re paying.”
He lets me go, sighs dramatically, then passes me my heels. At least they match the shirt.
“If it’s not my mouth, it’s my food. If it’s not my food, it’s my money.”
My lips curve and I rest my hand on his chest. “And if it’s not your money, it’s your cock. I guess that’s what you get for being so goddamn irresistible, Tyler Stone.”
He runs a hand through his hair and closes the door behind us. “I try, baby girl. I try.”
Unnecessarily, I want to add.
The guy would be irresistible wearing an Olaf costume.
I slide two pints across the bar and take the offered ten-dollar bill. I ring the order up on the register then hand the guy back his change with a smile. He nods in response and grabs his drinks.
Old Dill waves his glass from the end of the bar. I make my way down to his end and grab his glass.
“It isn’t gonna be the same around here without you, Liv,” he says, watching as I pull his pint.
“Don’t be silly. I’ve only been here a few months. Give it a few weeks and you’ll forget all about me.” I wink and set the full glass down in front of him.
He hands me a twenty, and I raise my eyebrows.
“What’s this? Spoiling me by paying cash on my last day?” I tease.
He laughs. “Don’t tell Donny. He’ll expect it every fuckin’ day.”
I laugh and ring it up. I set his change on the bar next to his glass and lean against it. “I might actually miss this place, you know.”
“Of course you will. What’s the name of the place you’re managing?”
“Crimson Lounge.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“Aaron Stone is the owner. What do you expect?”
Dill whistles low. “In there with the big boys.”
I laugh. “Perks of having a best friend who fucks the guy in charge.” I wink and move to serve a couple halfway down the bar.
I regretfully tell them that we don’t serve food when they ask and get them two glasses of Pinot and two bags of chips instead. Hey, they must really need a drink.
“So how fancy is this fancy bar?” Dill asks when I return to him.
I open the glass dishwasher and wave the steam away. “Cocktail-shaking men,” I answer. “VIP area. Dress code. Opening night is invite-only.”
He whistles again. “And you’re going to manage that?”
“Right?” I raise my eyebrows. “I can’t even paint my friggin’ nails without them looking like a toddler tried it. Now, I’m going to manage a place like that. Moving up in the world.” I wink.
“How about that there modeling? Seems like you were busy a couple weeks back.”
I inwardly wince. Despite Tyler’s proclamation that I got the Balfour campaign, I still haven’t spoken to Sheila about it. In fact, we haven’t spoken for a week—and it’s not like I can call her.
Can you imagine? “Hey, Sheila. I heard I got the Balfour campaign from the photographer I’m fucking. Thanks for reintroducing us on that Victoria’s Secret shoot that totally failed, by the way. Mind? Blown.”
Yeah.
No.
“Waiting to hear back on a couple of things,” I tell Dill evasively. Hey, it’s not a lie. Technically, I am.
“Well, I hope they see sense and get your pretty face up on them boards.” He tilts his pint toward me.
“Hitting on my woman, Dill?” Tyler slides onto the stool next to him.
I can’t help my smile. It’s automatic at the sight of him. Much like the butterflies in my tummy whenever I hear his voice.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, son!” Dill laughs and slaps the bar. “Tried it more than once and she put me right in my place. Didn’t ya, Liv?”
“If only I were thirty years older.” I wink.
“Hey now.” Tyler holds his hands up. “Don’t let me interrupt.”