Truth or Dare (15 page)

“Why have you move, too?” she asked, looking as confused as he’d been once he learned the truth. “Why not just leave you if she wanted to be with him?”

He’d asked Gina that himself, but he’d never gotten an answer. Even so, he had his theories.

“Security. Like I said, Gina wanted someone to take care of her. And I don’t think Ray was ready to do it. Hell, he hasn’t married her yet, so maybe he still isn’t ready.”

He knew the next question before she asked it. “Why didn’t you marry her?”

“I offered to. But she wasn’t interested. I’m guessing there was a part of her that had been holding out for Ray from the beginning. And maybe she figured if we weren’t married, I’d have even less of a claim on Charlie when the time came.”

“My God, you think she was planning—”

“I seriously doubt it. At least not consciously, anyway.” He wasn’t sure Gina was fully capable of seeing the way her actions affected the people around her. But then maybe that was just him refusing to believe the truth again.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, suddenly so tired he could barely think. He wanted the rest out.

“Whatever Gina planned or knew, in the end she left me for this nobody rocker who couldn’t be bothered with his kid until he was almost a year old.”

“My God, you must hate her.”

He cocked his jaw. “Thing is, Maggie, I can’t afford to hate her. I want my son back, and Gina’s my only way to get him.”

Maggie’s hands went to her stomach. “How?”

“Gina and Ray’s relationship is crap. They fight all the time. That rocker lifestyle she so desperately wanted to be a part of apparently isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

What he couldn’t get his head around was why she hadn’t given it up yet. She knew she had a place to go. A better place.

Only that wasn’t how Gina played the game.

“You stay in touch?”

Tyler let out a humorless laugh.

“I get one phone call a month to find out how Charlie is doing. But Gina’s got a habit of circling around to herself. So, yeah, I know something about their relationship. And one of these days, one of them is going to have enough and walk. And when that happens, Gina’s going to want what she always wants. Some guy to pick up the pieces.”

“You would take her back? After everything?”

The look of disbelief and outrage on Maggie’s face was priceless. But she had to understand.

“In a heartbeat. Anything to keep her from bringing some new player into the mix and adding yet another layer of loser to Charlie’s life. Charlie needs at least one parent who’s going to put him first instead of use him like a pawn or treat him like the baggage that came with his piece-of-ass mom. In the eyes of the law, Gina isn’t a criminal, but from where I’m sitting she’s not far from it.” He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he held that little boy in his hands and the promise he’d made to protect him. And then the memory from a year later, that same little boy screaming and bucking in his mother’s arms. Ray throwing his hands up in the air and walking away.

Tyler hadn’t been able to keep that promise, but he hadn’t given up on it, either. “It kills me to think that’s what Charlie’s growing up with.”

“So what are you doing?”

“I’m being Gina’s fallback guy. The hero waiting in the wings. I listen to all the sob stories. Tell Gina all the things she wants to hear, because one of these days she’s going to want more than what she’s got, and when she’s ready, Gina’s going to let me give it to her. Which is why I had to stop what was happening in the hall. No matter how much I might wish it was different.” Reaching for Maggie, he brushed the backs of his knuckles gently down her cheek and then returned his hand to the table, “I can’t be anything more than friends to anyone else.”

Tyler wasn’t a two-timing, cheating rat bastard.

He hadn’t been using her.

And more than that, he was actively trying to prevent anyone from getting hurt by refusing to let himself get involved when he’d already committed to a future that involved another woman.

Who he wasn’t actually dating now, and didn’t like, but wouldn’t allow his feelings for her to get in the way of finding a way back to the boy he thought of like a son.

Wow.

It was a lot to process, and so Maggie spent approximately half the night contemplating what this man had been through. Marveling at his dedication and commitment.

Unfortunately, this new insight into Apartment Three wasn’t exactly helping with the little problem of her misplaced crush. Which was why the second half of the night and throughout most of the morning, she’d been thinking about all the things she shouldn’t. Like the moment Tyler had caught her in his arms to carry her up the walk, the snowflakes falling around them, the quiet…their first kiss…and then the storm that followed.

Her back against the wall.

Tyler. Devouring her. His tongue hot in her mouth.

His body. Over her, against her, behind her. Rubbing long and thick and hot and hard between her legs until she’d been beyond control. Beyond sense.

God,
she’d wanted him. Still wanted him. But that thinking wouldn’t be doing her any favors when it came to putting their little hallway indiscretion behind them, so it was time to put her friendliest foot forward and make like the kiss they’d shared wasn’t going to spill all kinds of residual tension all over the friendship they were both counting on.

She’d already taken a practice run with Ava, recounting an abridged version of the events from the night before with a flippancy she didn’t entirely feel. And she must have done an okay job, because otherwise Ava would have been all over her for information. Instead, she’d just laughed, grabbed an apple off the counter, and headed out to meet Sam.

So, time to do this thing.

Refusing to linger at the scene of the crime, she quickly closed her apartment door and headed straight up the stairs. Her priorities were clear and in order. Restore the friendly status quo, while letting Tyler know she was there for him as he worked to get Charlie back.

When Tyler opened the door, she had her wisecracks all lined up. The self-deprecation in a neat stack. Her eye on the prize: friendship. Lasting and safe.

Unfortunately, all those plans started circling the drain as soon as her gaze landed on the stubble-rough, untucked, and comfortably worn packaging of a guy who wasn’t looking at her like a friend at all. Because friends didn’t do that full-body, slow-burning sweep with their eyes that ended with them staring at the other’s mouth.

So she should probably stop staring at his mouth, stop staring altogether, and go with the plan.
Right.

Blowing a loose wave out of her face, she looked him square in the eyes. “I know I swore you’d never get another shot at these, but after what you told me—after what you’ve been through—I’ve reconsidered.”

“Pity cookies?” Tyler asked, distracted by how pretty Maggie looked standing there.

“You got a problem with that?”

Usually, yes. As in, hell yes. Pity was something he’d had all too much of from family and friends. It had been the wedge that came between them. The thing he hadn’t been able to stand seeing in their eyes. But somehow a pity-inspired plate of the cookies he’d been coveting for too many months, delivered by the woman he wasn’t certain would ever want to talk to him again, didn’t seem like such a hard pill to swallow. Because all he could think about was grabbing the plate and shoving one in his mouth whole before she had a chance to reconsider…or maybe knocking the plate aside to pull Maggie into his arms and do something completely self-destructive and against the rules, like backing her against the wall and picking up where they’d left off.

Bad idea, chump.

Especially when he looked a little closer and saw the anxious nerves lingering behind her defiant bravado. She looked past him and he stepped aside so she could come in.

“Nope. I’ll take the pity, because let’s face it, it’s been a shit year,” he conceded, heading to the kitchen and pulling a couple glasses from the cabinet. Maggie opened the fridge for the milk and, setting it on the counter beside him, took a deep breath.

“They’re sort of apology cookies, too.”

The pity he got, but an apology?

“I was…
unforgiving
when you first moved in. You had a lot going on and I didn’t cut you any slack.”

Tyler laughed, feeling a tension release in his chest. “Hell, I think that’s what I liked about you most. In fact I’m sure of it.”

She arched a brow at him. “Someone’s got a secret kink I maybe don’t want to know about?”

“No. Not like that,” he laughed, surprised to find he could still do it after the way last night ended. But that was Maggie. “When I moved in here, I was pretty shut down. I couldn’t deal with my friends and family, the so-very-gentle nudging that I move on with my life, the caring questions about whether anything had changed, when again, nothing had. I was furious, devastated. I couldn’t stand being around anyone, especially the people I’d known with Gina. The friends I’d made in Chicago. I didn’t want to see them. Didn’t want to hear from them. So I moved to the other side of the city. Broke ties and spent a few months licking my wounds. I just needed the space, you know?”

Maggie leaned against the counter, her eyes soft. Understanding. “I do.”

“Then here you come, all nasty and
not nice.
And, Maggie, you were exactly what I needed. It was like this safe transition back to feeling alive. You were wicked and ruthless and so damn cute. And best of all, you didn’t have one lick of sympathy for me. You didn’t know anything other than I’d been a dick and you had all the license you needed to unleash on me. No dancing around my feelings. No pretending I wasn’t a jerk because you felt sorry for me. You were just you. Real. The first thing I’d looked forward to in longer than I want to think about. And eventually, that was enough to make me realize I wanted something more.”

The smallest smile curved her lips as she peered up at the ceiling. “Ahh…Like you were ready for some friends again.”

“Yeah, but friends who didn’t know what I’d been through. Friends who wouldn’t ask about Charlie.”

“I get it.” Pouring a glass, she nodded at the plate. “Go ahead.”

He took the cookie off the top of the pile, nearly groaning when it sagged under its own weight, pulling into a slow break that left gooey chocolate streaming across the divide.

Holy. Hell.

Tyler was all with the deep, masculine cookie appreciation, so Maggie figured it was as good a time as any to get on with the rest.

“About last night,” she said with an eye roll, meant to set the stage for all the
crazy, huh
and
I’m not taking it seriously, neither should you.
“I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

Tyler stepped back with a quick shake of his head. “Me either. We got carried away.”

She nodded.

“It took us by surprise, is all. It took
me
by surprise,” she said more quietly than she’d intended. Then swallowing, she tried to look away…failed, and felt the rise of that same fluster within her. The crushy fog clouding her thoughts and a seductive slide show featuring the previous night’s highlights rolling through her brain. While she stood less than a foot away from the man who’d starred in all of them.

Not good.

She needed to say something. Get with the making light and then get out.

“Guess I should probably let my libido off the leash more often, so, you know, I don’t jump every poor guy who offers up a little lip action in the name of friendship.”

Cripes,
that sounded nuts, but she’d already said it, and she was trying. So it would have been a good time for Tyler to jump in. Contribute to the peacemaking process by giving her a decent laugh, making a crack about her accosting him and all. Only the guy just stared at her with this baffled look that said he didn’t get what he was hearing at all.

And now her nerves were flipping into high gear, pushing her to ramble. “You know, invite
Rosie
out more often myself.”

Okay, that got his attention, if one was going to read into the whole jaw-smacking chest thing anyway. And the subtle flex of his hand at his right side.

Shoot.

“Oh no! I totally didn’t mean
your
Rosie. I meant
my
Rosie.” She pushed out another stiff laugh, holding her hand up like a self-satisfying exhibit A.

This
so
wasn’t going well.

Not. Good.

Ty was sure now. Someone had it in for him. What other explanation could there be for his favorite cookie girl showing up at his place with all her usual sugar-and-spice scent and crank-turning hotness, talking about
touching herself
? Letting her neglected libido off the cruel leash she’d tethered it with?

And add to that hot-as-fuck bit of conversation, she was nervous. Working a breathless fluster that was all kinds of girl-next-door cute as she rambled on about it not being
his
hand she wanted to use to pleasure herself senseless, but her own.

Holy freaking hell.

If his fly could withstand the pressure it was facing in that moment, he seriously needed to invest in Banana Republic’s denim division.

“—like some sex-crazed lunatic, when it could all have been avoided with a little attention—”

Oh man,
she was still talking. Still nervous. Still waving that pale, delicate hand around like she hadn’t just planted an image of exactly what she was going to do with it so deep in his brain, there was no chance in hell it was ever coming out.

That mental picture would be with him until his last breath. Which meant he would either expire a very happy old man, or decades before his time due to unrelenting sexual frustration.

“Fuck.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop saying that,” Maggie huffed. “Especially while you’re looking at me. I’m getting uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? She had no idea.

And that thought right there, that she had no idea, was what did it. What pushed him from frustration of the purely physical variety to a frustration that originated from a place significantly higher than his jock.