Chapter Six

His phone dinged in the cupholder of his truck.

Tyler eased to a stop in front of the bar and pulled his phone up, hopeful.

Where are you? The text from Erin Timmons filled him with such a deep disappointment. Don't get him wrong, Erin was pretty. He'd liked her back in high school, but then again, who hadn't he liked? He'd been a mess back then. She'd seen him out and about today, and had asked him to meet up for dinner for old times' sake. He hadn't confirmed, because…well, hell, he didn't know. Some other girl from high school had his attention. Still.

He'd tried to cleanse his palate of Demi and move on to anyone and anything else back then, but it hadn't worked. At least, not like it was supposed to.

Erin had told him she was newly-divorced, and new to the dating pool. Said she just wanted a dinner with a friend, but he'd seen the flirt in her eyes.

He blew out a breath, draped his arm over the steering wheel, and stared at the neon beer sign in the window of the bar. His fight with his father earlier had stuck with him. His old man had told him he wished he had never come back here, and you know? Tyler felt the same. That had been the plan—never come back here for more than a few days at a time. Holidays only, and then back to his real life.

His phone lit up again, and he steeled himself to let Erin know he wasn't up for a meet-up tonight.

The text wasn't from Erin though. His heart thumped harder in his chest. It was from Demi.

I'm not going out with you. I think you were trying to use reverse psychology to get me to wear high heels for you tonight, and I don't like that. I'm not ever going to do anything you try to get me to do. But…I saw the game you have on. Second quarter just started. You can come over and watch it at my place. Rachel sent me a video of you and your dad fighting. I'm betting he won't let you watch the game at his place.

He read it twice, and then lifted his camera up and took a picture of the bar. I was gonna drink the bad week away. They have good pizza here. Want me to bring some over? Send.

Pepperoni. The text message back was so simple, but it caused such a huge reaction to his nervous system. She was saying yes to pizza and football. After the week he'd had, he physically couldn't think of anything he wanted more than a chill night with someone he was actually comfortable with—and yes, he felt comfortable to be himself with Demi—with pizza and football.

A smile took over his face as he texted her back. Be there soon. Send.