Wish he didn’t make me feel this way. It’d be so much simpler if I could friend-zone him.
I realized I still hadn’t touched his verbal grenade. “We all have things we’d do differently in hindsight.”
“What is it about you?” he asked in a wondering tone.
“Huh?”
“You make me...better. Calmer.”
“Like a sedative?” I snickered. It was the least sexy thing a guy had ever said to me, including a junior high squeeze who said my face wasn’t actually that bad.
He laughed, too, a sheepish sound. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just...I’m worried pretty much all the time that I’m dropping the ball somewhere, about to face-plant, but when I come out here and hear your voice, everything backs off, like, ten steps. I can breathe again.”
God. I swallowed hard, unable to speak for a few seconds.
“I’m glad you look forward to this as much as I do.” The darkness made me brave enough to add, “I wasn’t trying to intrude that first night.”
“I know. But the unit had been vacant for a while. So I guess I forgot I wasn’t alone anymore.” The way he said it summoned a rush of heat, though he couldn’t mean it like that.
We’d only just met then, and I doubted I’d made a great first impression, dropping couches, falling down stairs. It was a wonder he didn’t think I was a danger to myself and others. On the other hand, this was the longest we’d spent together without him retreating, so maybe I was accruing more hash marks in the make Ty want to stick around column.
“Nope,” I said. “You’re stuck with me now.” It occurred to me that I ought to warn him. “By the way, we’re having a party tomorrow night, at least thirty people, and the way word gets around, it may be more like fifty. I hope it won’t be too loud for Sam to sleep.”
There was a long silence. Finally, he said, “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, I’m problem-solving. I’ll put him to bed with headphones on. Don’t worry, you’re not the only people with social lives around here, and most of them don’t check in with me.” Rueful tone, as if he was aware he had no right to expect it.
“I’d invite you to come, but—”
“Another time,” he cut in, surprising me. “My folks watch him the last weekend of the month. They tell me to get out, have fun, but I usually just sleep as much as I can.”
“And that’s the only time,” I muttered.
“I heard that.” Incredible as it seemed, I could actually sense the smile in his voice, and I sat forward, peering over the railing to confirm.
My heart skipped when he leaned into the light, a golden glow from his living room, and our eyes met, more of that hungry-looking. I felt the skim of his gaze over my bare shoulders, on the curve of my cheek and the line of my neck. I’d swear to my grave it was the night air, but my nipples actually tightened, just from that look. I licked my lips. He watched me.
“I wasn’t trying to slip it past you.”
“That doesn’t seem like your style,” he agreed.
“I only meant that you look tired. Not that you aren’t also—” I bit my tongue to stanch the flood of potentially humiliating words.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Finish that sentence. Please, Nadia?”
A little shiver went through me. If he ever figured out how much power he wielded over me with those three syllables, I was doomed. He might not even be aware of it, but his voice deepened, softened, just a touch, when he spoke my name. Enough to make me think he might be into me a little bit.
Appealing as all hell. So incredibly hot. Get-in-my-bed sexy. Since I had a single, that wasn’t even a fantasy I could indulge without adding a bunch of details like a hotel room or whatever. I wondered what kind of bed Ty slept in. God, stop thinking about him that way. This can’t happen.
But my mouth wasn’t taking orders from my brain. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Answer one question for me.”
His voice went flat. “That depends on what it is.”
In that moment, I imagined shutters coming down, gates being drawn across windows for the night. I suspected he thought I was going to ask about Sam’s mom. And I hoped I would surprise him, always, in good ways. It was clear to me he didn’t want to discuss that sort of thing with me. At least not yet. We were baby-new, just starting, whatever we were.
Friends.
So I said, “Tell me what you dream of designing, once you’re a big-deal architect.”
“Oh.” Relief and perplexity colored his tone, warmed it. He was smiling again—I couldn’t resist peeking at him. Ty ate the peanut butter cup as he thought. “It’s good to hear you say it so implicitly, like my success is assured. The road feels really long sometimes.”
“I can imagine.”
“I’ve been in school since I was eighteen, but after Sam was born, I cut down to part-time. Anyway, you didn’t ask to hear me whine.” He paused, tapping at the arm of his chair with a shy look. “Damn. I don’t know if I can answer this after all. I’ve never told anyone.”
That startled me, making the question seem more meaningful than I’d realized. “It’s okay, but...in that case, I won’t be completing my sentence.”
He cursed, the first time I’d heard him swear. My smile felt like it might crack my cheeks. The ache in my chest was back, but it was all things irresistibly sweet and good. I set my fingers on the railing like I could touch him from here, and in tiny, incremental gestures, I traced the almost-distinguishable shape of his features. Someday I wanted to trace his nose like this and kiss his ears and— God. No more. I trembled a little, not from cold, but from want. How crazy, this was the best first date I ever had.
And it wasn’t one. Was it?
Definitely not.
“You drive a hard bargain. Okay. I want to design churches.” He shifted, creaking the love seat, and then went on, “I doubt I’ll be able to right away. I’ll probably end up doing offices or condos to start, but eventually? I would desperately love to design a church someday, see it built from each individual stone to stained glass panels so I can stand inside it and marvel.”
“Why?” I didn’t think it was an odd question. Up until this moment, Ty hadn’t struck me as particularly religious; he didn’t have the Jesus fish on his car.
He exhaled in a soft, trembling sigh. “So I can thank God personally for Sam.”
The need to make such a grand gesture spoke of such a deep, abiding love that tears actually welled up in my eyes. Despite my best efforts, they spilled over, trickling down my cheeks. I covered it by cramming a peanut butter cup into my mouth and washing it down with tepid tea, but it didn’t taste quite right. My voice would probably give me away.
But when I didn’t speak, he said, “That probably sounds dumb. Or pretentious. I can’t believe I—”
“No.” I couldn’t let him think that, and I leaned forward in my chair for emphasis. “Not at all. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Sam is so lucky to have you, Ty.”
“I’m the lucky one. I just wish I could remember it for more than five minutes at a time.” He paused, cocking his head, and I drew back, not wanting him to see but it was too late. “Are you crying?”
“Maybe a little. Shut up. It’s just...so very sweet.” My voice broke slightly, and I swiped at my eyes, embarrassed at how easily he got to me.