Torn - Part Three (The Torn Series) (8 page)

“Listen, Tyler,” I said, “I know what you’re going to say.” He frowned but he didn’t cut me off. “And I want to stop you before you even get into it. We’re through.”

It was hard to say. Even after everything I still cared about his feelings and I didn’t want to hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” I went on, staring down into my glass. “I don’t mean to sound so harsh.”

The expression on his face never changed. “It’s that boxer guy, isn’t it. It’s still him.”

I didn’t correct his “boxer” comment. “It is.”

“He’s trouble.”

You’re trouble
. “I disagree.”

“Because you don’t know better, Riley. He’s going to get you into trouble. You’re naive and-”

“I know plenty well,” I said, sitting up straighter on my stool. I was so sick of that attitude - the one where he just assumed that I knew nothing about anything, like I was still the same silly college freshman he’d met four years ago. “I don’t want to talk about Mallet. This isn’t about him, this is about you.”

My phone buzzed at my elbow but I ignored it. He didn’t - he snatched it away before I could react. “It’s him, isn’t it,” he asked, turning away so I couldn’t grab it out of his hands.

“Don’t read my fucking messages, Tyler!” I hissed, aware that we weren’t the only patrons in the place. The bartender was giving him the side-eye.

“You’re still going to these fights of his?” He sounded outraged. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“It’s none of your business!” It was becoming a struggle to keep my voice down. He finally slid the phone back at me. I stuffed it into my purse - I’d read the message later.

“I’m just worried about your safety. Listen. I know you’re through with me, for now at least. But I’d like us to remain friends. Keep communications open. That’s all.”

I sighed. My first instinct was to relent. We’d known each other for so long already, it was hard to just cut him out of my life. But I knew that romantically we were over. I wanted no part of that relationship again.

And I also knew that he didn’t see it the same way.

But I couldn’t make myself say it. It felt too cruel to just state, “I do not want to be your friend.”

“Okay,” I sighed, kicking myself for it. “Friends. But that’s all. And Tyler, I’m serious, you have to stop grabbing my phone. Friends don’t do that. Married couples don’t even do that.”

“Bad habit, I’m sorry,” he muttered, though he didn’t sound the least bit sorry.

Better to let it go than to make a scene, though.

“Good. So.” I waved at the space between us. “Tell me how your program is going.”

He ordered a beer and told me all about what he’d been up to. I knew that he’d been dying to talk about himself, so I let him, because that’s what friends did.

And when his phone rang, I didn’t feel that pang of suspicious jealousy that I’d once felt, back when I suspected he was beginning to see other people. I didn’t feel anything at all. Maybe Katherine was right and I did need this quick face-to-face. This closure. The door wasn’t quite as closed as I’d originally wanted it to be, but I thought I’d been pretty clear about what our relationship would be from now on - not much of anything at all. Maybe we’d even finally drift apart completely.

That or he’d change and we’d actually become real friends. I wasn’t going to hold my breath but anything was possible.

I refused to hug him goodbye when he left. We needed more time and space before we could be friends on the hugging level - if ever.

I couldn’t help but stress over what Mallet would think. I knew that I had to tell him. I didn’t want us to start over with a secret hanging over my head. And I’d finally gotten what felt like closure. I just hoped that he would understand and wouldn’t flip out over the fact that I’d met Tyler in the first place. He’d have every right to be upset after everything. But I wasn’t going to hide it.

I fished my phone out of my bag to read his message while I waited for Katherine to pick me up. “Big fight scheduled, gonna win some cash and take you out! Next Friday, at that place we first met, pencil me in!”

I grinned. I hadn’t seen Mallet fight in ages, and though it stressed me out to see him in danger, it also turned me on a little. I texted him right back - “Can’t wait!”

There was no hesitation, now. With the family holiday out of the way, with my relationship with my sister healing and with Tyler finally conceding to just a friendship, I was more ready than I’d ever been to start it all over with Mallet. I just hoped he’d still feel the same when I finally got back to New York.

CHAPTER 9

The rest of the holiday weekend didn’t exactly pass quickly, but it did pass. We had an awkward dinner out with my father on Friday, after my meeting with Tyler - just Katherine and I - and then spent Saturday putting up Mom’s Christmas decorations.

Despite the stress of being around my parents, I was reluctant to leave. I was getting along with Katherine better than we ever had and I was afraid that time and distance would come between us once again.

“Get back to the city,” she ordered, giving me a hug outside her car when she dropped me off at the train station. “You need to get back to work, I assume. And back to that boy you’ve been daydreaming about.”

She winked. I hadn’t told her very much about Mallet, but she picked up on my distraction anyway. “Promise to visit,” I said, “Before Christmas. Seriously, I want you to come.”

“Sure.” She smiled. “Either the second or the third weekend of December, okay?” She poked my shoulder. “But call more often. Mom gets on my case when you don’t and it fucking sucks.”

There was a glimpse of the stern girl I’d grown up with. She’d always have that grumpy edge - that was just her natural state. “Promise,” I said.

I gave her one last hug before rushing up to the platform to catch my train.

I felt relief the moment I was alone. Being at home always churned up too many emotions, and much as I was coming to enjoy spending time with my sister, it was time to get back to my other life - the real one - the one I was building back in the city.

With Mallet, if things played out the way that I hoped.

He met me at Grand Central Station. I didn’t ask him to. I only told him what time I was arriving because he’d texted more than once to find out when I’d be getting home. I assumed maybe he wanted to make some dinner plans or something.

But there he was when I stepped off the train, waiting at the head of the platform with a little pot of flowers, looking as hot as always. My throat clenched when I saw him and a smile spread across my face, so wide it hurt.

“You’re here,” I said, standing on my toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. I lingered there, my face next to his. He even smelled good, like soap and the city and winter. Like home.

“I’m here.” He pressed the pot into my hands. “They don’t die like bouquets,” he explained.

“I love them,” I said. They would die anyway - I couldn’t keep a plant alive to save my life. But that wasn’t important at the moment. What mattered was that he was here, waiting for me, ready to start over just like we’d said.

It was enough to make a girl emotional. It made my heart flutter and dammit, it made my fingers itch for my guitar. Maybe this was the key that would open me up to music again - these little moments of joy, fleeting as they may be. I wanted to record them and hang onto them however I could.

Maybe I’d finally pick it up again when I got back to my apartment. My guitar, my notebook - the one that I hadn’t scribbled in since before graduation. God, how much time I’d wasted…

Now was not the time to start feeling bad about that. No was the time to focus on just being with Mal.

We walked hand in hand through the main terminal toward the subway entrances. “What do you say to a second Thanksgiving?” he asked, “Just us and a turkey.”

Oh God, if I eat any more turkey…
“That sounds perfect!”

“Great. My place it is.” He grabbed my bag right out of my hand and cut me off when I started to protest. “You don’t want to be seen with a jackass, do you?”

I laughed. That was what he’d said that first night we’d hung out, when he knocked down that frat boy and then carried my guitar for me.

I couldn’t tear my eyes off him as we walked. He was in a coat so I couldn’t admire his muscles, but it was his face I was interested in. His eyes. His smirk and his smile.

I grabbed his wrist. “Stop for a minute.” My stomach lurched at the thought of losing him again. I had to come clean, right away, before I wimped out or found a reason not to.

Someone cursed as they dodged around us, so I pulled him aside, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic.

“What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath. “No more secrets, right?” I said, with a weak and nervous laugh. “I met up with Tyler.”

Mallet’s jaw tensed but he didn’t say anything. God, even that look, that dark look, it turned me on even as it made my hands tremble. It wasn’t right for one guy to be so good-looking. “It meant nothing,” I went on, “And nothing happened. I just needed to see him face to face and tell him that we’re over. He wasn’t getting the message.” Still no response. “We both needed closure. That’s all it was.”

His eyes searched mine for just a moment, reading me, as if looking for the lie. But there wasn’t any to find. I wouldn’t lie to him - not now. Not ever again.

“Okay.” The tension went out of him as quickly as that.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“I caved a little,” I admitted, “I said we could still be friends.”

Mallet grinned at that. “Chicks always say that, not a single one ever means it. Everyone knows that.”

I laughed with relief.

“Now let’s hurry, I left the oven on.”

“What?!” But he had me by the wrist and was dragging me through the station before I could say more.

○●○●○●○●○

Mallet had been joking about leaving the oven on and unattended, thank goodness. But he hadn’t been joking about making a turkey - it was resting right there on the countertop when we walked inside his apartment.

“Lockett will be coming home later to interrupt and eat whatever we don’t,” he explained, “But we’ve got the place to ourselves for now.” He dropped my bag as he shut the door, and then swept me up in arms.

His kiss was slow, and sweet, and full of longing. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer to me, savoring the feel of our bodies crushed together despite the winter layers of clothing.

I thought he might rush us straight for the bedroom, but he broke away with a regretful sigh and smiled. “Turkey,” he said, his tone firm. “Let’s do Thanksgiving.”

“I already did Thanksgiving,” I said, biting my lip.

“I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Normally I would bite back all my questions, but for once I didn’t. We wanted to get to know each other better, right? That was part of the deal. “Why not? What about your family?”

He led me into the kitchen where he’d already begun prepping the stuffing. “We don’t get along.” His voice was flat. “It’s just my brother and my father now, anyway, and none of us can stand being the same room for long enough to share a meal.”

I’d witnessed that myself. “Your mother?” I asked softly.

He focused his attention on the green beans, left waiting on the cutting board. He began chopping off the ends. “Passed away three years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” My heart ached for him. I didn’t exactly get along with my family either, but I couldn’t imagine being without them. I couldn’t imagine being so alone. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and hugged him tight.

“I didn’t really get along with her, either,” he said, his voice bitter.

“It’s still sad. It still has to be hard. I don’t get along with my mother at all but I can’t imagine her being gone.”

I stepped back. If Thanksgiving was what he wanted then that was what we would do. Now that I understood, I was determined to help make it happen. “Put me to work,” I declared, “Let’s cook this bird. Maybe we won’t even burn it too badly.”

He handed me a knife, wearing a big grin on his face. I’d eat turkey and nothing else for the rest of the year if it would make him that happy. “Cut some carrots?”