Wasted Words (17 page)

Cam

I WOKE UP SLOW AND easy, remembering the night before like it had been a dream, smiling to myself at how real it had felt.

Tyler shifted against me, and my eyes flew open.
 

Not a dream.
 

It was real.
 

He was real, and as I rolled over to face him, I smiled, in awe at the sight of him stretched out in my bed.

His mouth hung open just a touch, his neck long, dark lashes against his cheeks. I followed the line of his broad shoulder, the curves of his muscles, his bicep. Tricep. Forearm. Just so many muscles. Part of me wanted to peek under the blanket to feast my eyes on the rest of him, but regrettably I stopped myself.

I didn’t feel creepy watching him sleep, smiling in the morning sunshine at my sleeping giant. Everything felt right. It made sense. He was so … everything. Beautiful. Kind. Smart. Funny. And he kissed me. He kissed me for a long, long time. He held me and slept in my bed, content and happy. Or at least he seemed to be.

I felt like a princess in a fairy tale. I hoped it was true. Real.

If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Will filled my thoughts, followed by the old anxiety. It was like a replay of my shame from so long ago, but as I watched Tyler sleep, I reminded myself that things were different now. Tyler wasn’t Will — I knew Tyler, trusted him. And we were adults, not teenagers in high school driven primarily by hormones.

Tyler was an exception to the rules. So I decided to shut up and go with it until I had a reason not to.

I didn’t want to wake him, but somebody had to make the coffee, so I slipped out of bed and padded into the kitchen, humming as I set up the coffee machine. While it brewed, I sat down with my book. As many times as I’ve read
Mists of Avalon,
I never tired of it. In fact, every time I read it, I caught something new. A new line, a new phrase or moment that spoke to me. The tale of King Arthur, the women of the court, the lore of the Druids, the angst and intrigue … it was magnificent, and every time I picked it up, I was immediately immersed.

I was into my second cup when Tyler shuffled in from my room, shirtless and yawning, hand mussing his hair.

“Morning,” he said as he approached, stooping to kiss my cheek.

I nearly swooned. “Morning. Coffee’s made.”

“Taking care of me again.”

“Any time.” I closed my book and leaned on the table, watching his back. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” he asked as he poured a cup.

“For staying with me last night. For kissing me.”

He turned, his eyes twinkling. “Thanks for kissing me back.”

I snorted. “Like I could have refused.”

“So now it’s out of obligation?” He sat next to me, smirking, and I tried to keep my eyes on his, rather than on his bare chest.
 

“To my very womanhood, yes.”

He took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the edge of the coffee mug with Darth Vader’s mask on it that said
Who’s your daddy?
“So what time do you want to leave for the game?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall and did some quick math. “Well, it starts at one, so probably eleven with traffic. We’re riding back with Kyle, right?”

He nodded. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure. I’m glad he’s so generous with his tickets. Home side, fifty-yard line? That’s choice.”

“It is.” He sat back. “Eggs?”

“Only if there’s bacon.”
 

Tyler pushed his chair back and smiled. “There’s always bacon.”

He moved around the kitchen, gathering supplies, pausing to pick up the abandoned ice cream carton and give me a look as he tossed it in the trash.

“Hey,” I said, laughing, “it’s not my fault your sexy mouth superseded ice cream preservation.”
 

“Oh, that’s definitely your fault.” He smiled crookedly at me, and I picked up my book again, enjoying the moment, though I couldn’t really concentrate on reading with shirtless Tyler making me breakfast.

Excitement flittered through me at the fact that Tyler and I were actually happening. It was happening, and it was easy and simple and not weird. I mean, it was weird in the way that it was completely unbelievable, but being with Tyler had never been weird.
 

I wondered if I’d get to see him naked, and my uterus might have exploded at the prospect.

“How do you want your eggs?” he asked.

“Fertilized,” I said, and he laughed over his shoulder at me. I shrugged. “Over medium is good.”

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he laid bacon into the pan.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one asking that question.” I said with a brow up.

He laughed. “I mean, we just stepped into all of this out of nowhere, and I want to know where you’re at.”

I nodded, not sure how to answer without gushing. “Well, I’m still in shock, I think. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it, even though it feels natural. It feels good. How about you?”

“Well,” he started as he washed his hands, his eyes down, “I think I’m a little in shock too. I really thought you were going to shoot me down and it was going to get weird.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re crazy.”

He shrugged and grabbed a kitchen towel, slinging it over his naked shoulder when he’d wiped his hands. “I believed you when you said you said stuff like I was a brother to you.” He raised a brow, smirking “Still feel that way?”

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p’ and smiled.

He chuckled, leaning over to kiss me before heading back to the stove to prod the bacon.

“As for where we’re at — I don’t have a lot of expectations from you or us, not at this point. Just be honest with me. And bear with me, because I’m crazy.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, and I already know and love your crazy.”

“Yeah, but this is going to be a whole new level of crazy.” I thought about telling him about Will, but decided against it. I’d tell him eventually, but not less than twenty-four hours after he kissed me and while he was cooking me breakfast.

He shot me a smile. “Consider yourself bear-ed with.” He turned back to the skillet to crack the eggs, and I watched his back with wonder, half expecting him to break out in song or for woodland creatures to appear to help him cook.
 

His phone chimed with a text, still on the table by the door where he’d left it last night. When he walked over and looked, he sighed.
 

“What is it?”

“Kyle gave the two tickets next to us to twins he’s trying to bang.”

“Oh, God,” I said with a hint of dread, remembering the last game we went to.

“Should be interesting.”

“Hopefully it’s not as intense as last time, that redhead and her friend — the underage one who got trashed?”

“And subsequently kicked out.”

I laughed. “You can’t show your boobs to the jumbo camera without consequences.”

“The best was the look on your face.”

“Which also ended up on the jumbo camera.”

“Damn, I wish I’d been able to get to my phone in time to snap that.”

I shook my head, remembering the embarrassment. “I should have made you sit next to them.”

He put up his hands — one with a spatula in it — and said, “I mean, it’s not like most guys wouldn’t be thrilled to sit next to a nineteen-year-old drunk girl with an itchy trigger finger on her bra, but I’m glad it was you and not me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like I said, you should have seen your face.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, picking up my coffee. “Gee, thanks. Maybe today won’t be so bad. Maybe I can help them take it easy on the booze.”

“I’ll wish you all the very best of luck with that,” he said as he plated our breakfast.

I watched him quietly, chasing the fleeting thought that maybe we’d just slip back into being friends. I imagined him just pretending like last night didn’t happen, but when he turned to me with the plates and sat down next to me and I looked in his eyes, at his smile, every doubt fell away.

We tucked into breakfast for a quiet moment, and I watched him furtively, trying not to stare. But as I absently nibbled my bacon, I thought about his arms, thought about the warmth of his body next to mine all night, thought about his kisses, so sweet and new and full of hope and promise. And the only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted more.

“So,” he said after a little bit, “we have a couple of hours before we have to leave.”

“Are you a mind reader?” I asked with a small smile.

“Why?” He was amused, the corners of his lips curling.

“Because I was just thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you.”

His smile broke open like sunshine. “Then maybe I am a mind reader, because I was thinking the same thing.”

Tyler

SHE WAS THE PRETTIEST THING I’d ever seen, sitting next to me that morning. Her hair was wavy and a little unkempt, like she’d just come from the beach, her brown eyes big and full of laughter behind her glasses, a high flush in her cheeks like she so often had. She could have been glowing for as happy as she looked.
 

We ate our breakfast, laughing and talking like we always do, but everything had changed. Everything, from the way she looked at me, the way she smiled. Hers was a smile I knew well, one I’d seen in a hundred versions, but the one she gave me then was one I’d only come to know the day before.
 

A jolt of excitement sprinted through me at the knowledge that I’d be kissing her the second she finished her eggs.

I didn’t waste any time, either. I scooped up her plate as soon as the last bite was gone, stacked it on mine, and took it to the sink. When I turned, she stood behind me bearing a shy smile.

It was the first time since we’d first kissed that we actually stood next to each other, stood so close. I’d never been with anyone so small — the top of her head barely came to my underarm, and when she hugged me, her arms slipped around my waist naturally. Her cheek was warm against the skin of my chest, and I ran my fingers through her hair, holding her against me, shifting to rock us slowly.
 

“It’s not as strange as I thought it would be,” she said.

“Us?”

“No. You being a giant.”

I chuckled, and when she looked up at me, propping her chin on my chest, I bent down to pick her up around the waist. Her arms wound around my neck, and I held her there, arms locked, keeping her close enough to kiss, though her feet were dangling a foot off the ground.

“The only thing I don’t like is that you’re so far away,” I said.

She giggled. “When you pick me up like this, I feel like a kid.”

“You’re not a kid,” I said gently. “And you know what you said yesterday? About not being a real girl? Well, you are. You’re the most real girl I’ve ever known.”

And when her face softened, her eyes velvety brown and full of emotion, I brought my lips to hers to tell her how much I meant it without speaking a word.

Hours later, we were walking into the stadium, decked out in Giants gear. Cam had on prescription aviators and a Giants baseball cap, her Manning jersey was half-tucked into her jean shorts, and her pretty legs were long and tan. She laughed and skipped ahead of me, her Converse bouncing and arms waving.
 

“It’s game day!” she crowed, not caring that some of the other fans gave her a look.
 

We grabbed beers and found our seats — some of the best seats in the house, if you asked me. It was a half an hour before the game started — players were leaving the field from warm up, and music bumped over the speakers as everyone filed into the stadium.

“What do you think, will Kyle’s girls be blondes or brunettes?” she asked as we sat down.
 

“Blondes. With spray tans.”

She chuckled and propped her feet on the seat in front of her. “In matching outfits.”

“Jean shorts with their butts hanging out.”

She gave me a look that said I’d wounded her feminist heart.
 

“What? Kyle has a type.
I
personally don’t care if their butts hang out. Or if said butts are tan.”

“Ugh,” she said with a curled lip before punching me in the arm with her tiny fist.
 

But I laughed and caught her arm, pulling her to me for a kiss.

She sighed, lids heavy when she broke away. “That’s not always going to work, Tyler. But for now, kissing me is a really great way to apologize.”

I smirked and sank into my seat, propping my feet next to hers. She lined her tiny sneaker up to my big one, then propped her other foot on top. They were the same height.

We looked at each other and laughed.

“Excuse us, I think our seats are over there,” someone said, and I looked up to see two girls pointing just beyond me, to the other side of Cam.
 

“Oh, sorry.” We moved our feet, and the girls shuffled past. Cam gave me a look when their spray-tanned butts moved past her eye level, and I tried not to laugh.

They were pretty girls — long blond hair, great bodies — but they looked a little out of place with flawless makeup and curls, brand new hats stiff on top of their heads and crisp jerseys on brandishing Kyle’s name and number. But they’d dressed the part in the spirit of participating, and they had matching kind smiles, so for that, I approved of the two.

Cam stuck out her hand. “You’re Kyle’s friends, right?”

The one sitting next to Cam smiled and took her hand. “Yeah. I’m Tracey —”

The other one popped her head around and waved. “And I’m Casey.”

“We’re twins!” they said at the same time.

Cam laughed. “Oh, my God. You two are adorable.”

They bubbled and giggled. “So are you.” Tracey said. “You’re so tiny! I love your glasses. I wish I could wear mine, but I swear, I’m so blind, they’re like magnifying glasses. I look like a creepy owl when I wear them.”

“I doubt that,” Cam said with a laugh.
 

Casey nodded. “It’s true. One time, she scared the crap out of the little kids who live down the hall just by looking at them.”