Chapter Seven

"Okay," Demi muttered to herself, looking around the living room in panic.

Tyler was coming over; it was no big deal. She speed-typed a text to Rachel. Tyler is bringing over pizza to watch the rest of the game. You are invited, come over. See you soon! Send.

There! Problem solved. Now this couldn't be seen as anything romantic because Rachel would be here, and they'd all just be hanging out like they did when they were kids.

She motored into her bedroom, put the high heels back, and looked around at the piles of clothes on her bed she'd folded, but had failed to put away. Stupid laundry! It took her five to seven business days to complete it all!

She would just pull on some comfy leggings. Yep. And some fuzzy house slippers. Absolutely. And a comfy yoga sports bra, and a baggy sweatshirt. Yes! Perfect. Try as little as possible. This was no big deal.

She high-kneed it to the kitchen, and looked in her fridge for something to drink with the pizza. Umm, it was either tap water, or week-expired milk. Shit. She needed to get her life together.

There was no point in cleaning the living room. He'd already seen the cluttered coffee table and the blankets creating a mess on the couch, so she refused to clean on purpose. She didn't want him thinking she was preparing for him to arrive. She didn't care about men, especially not Tyler Kisses-Everyone Durock.

This was just a hang-out of friends.

Two friendly, friend-zoned friendy-friends.

She checked her phone three times, but Rachel never responded. Half an hour later, Tyler barged in without knocking.

She scrunched up her face, but before she could complain, he said, "You invited me. You knew I was coming over."

So instead of griping at him, she pursed her lips and led the way into the kitchen, where he set a large pepperoni pizza and a six-pack of beer on the counter. It was a paper-plates kind of night, and she was grateful that he had thought to bring drinks. Tap water was yummy, but not quite as yummy as a Coors Banquet in the bottle.

He didn't talk much, just took charge in the kitchen and made her a plate, then made his own. He opened her beer and handed it over without a word, and then led her to the couch, where they sank into the cushions and watched TV.

This was strange, right? It was supposed to feel weird or uncomfortable…right?

When he turned and put the blanket over her lap between plays, and then leaned his elbows on his knees again, tense as a play didn't go his way, she couldn't help the smile on her lips.

The next play was a long throw and a complete pass. He clamped his hand on her ankle, gripped it hard, said "Yes!" and then clapped loud. "Shit," he said, as he realized he'd messed up the blanket over her legs. He moved it back over her, like he was tucking her in.

"Dork," she said.

"Girl," he muttered, "I made straight C's in high school. You remember. Ain't no dorks here but you."

She giggled, and then took another bite of her pizza. This was too comfortable. Too familiar. "I invited Rachel over too, just so you know. She'll be here any minute."

"Great," he said smoothly.

Okay, good. He didn't see this as anything more than friends hanging out.

His phone lit up on the coffee table. He leaned over and looked at the text, and then went back to watching the game.

Her vision, unbeknownst to him, was impeccable, and unfortunately she saw the woman's name—Erin—and the message before the screen faded to black. I was really hoping you would make it tonight.

Demi didn't know why, but her heart dipped. When she lifted her eyes to him, he was intent on the game, and she got it. Girls probably messaged him all the time. He was always working something. The text from that woman wouldn't be a big deal because he was used to the attention.

She pursed her lips and scooted up, drawing her legs away from him.

Tyler glanced over at her ankles moving away from him, then back to the TV. Then a frown took his face, and he jerked his attention to her legs again. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable." Away from him.

"You're squished against the arm of the couch. That can't be comfortable."

"Just waiting for Rachel, and then you can go on your date."

He just stared. "What are you talking about?"

"Crow shifters have great vision, and since I'm a dork, I can read real fast."

"Okay?"

"The text?"

Tyler looked at his phone like he was confused. "You know Erin. Erin Timmons. She graduated in your class."

Oooh, right. Perfect. Just as she expected. "Congratulations, I hope you get lots of BJs. She's gorgeous and super-single now."

"Cool. She saw me in the store earlier and asked to hang out tonight." Distracted by the game, he opened up the text thread and handed her his phone, then went back to watching the game.

Demi just sat there with his phone in her hand, unsure of what to do. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Um, read it. Hell, you can go out with her if you want to. She sounds like she needs a night out. Newly divorced. She told me all about her ex-husband Clint and his gambling addiction."

Weirded out and unsure of what to do, Demi looked at the text thread and scrolled up.

I tracked down your phone number. Small town. I had so much fun chatting with you at the store today, and was wondering if you want to hang out tonight? For old times' sake? We can hang out as just friends, but if you want more…well, it's been awhile for me, and I don't kiss and tell.

"Oooh, she's got game still."

"She cried."

"What?"

"She talked about her ex-husband, and she broke down in aisle nine of the Piggly Wiggly."

"Oooh," she said again, lower. "Well, she seems to be in a very vulnerable spot, and would probably be an easy mark for you."

He had been clapping at a play, but stopped and tossed her a disgusted face. "I don't need an easy mark, Demi. You make me sound like some kind of predator."

"I mean, you dated like a hundred people in high school."

"Mmm, now ask me why I was doing that as a young man."

"I don't care," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If you don't care enough to know the why, you aren't allowed to judge it."

His words settled into her soul, and felt right. He had a fair point.

"You dated people too," he pointed out.

"Not like you."

"I'm not a player anymore," he said, eyes on the game.

"Mm-hmm. How many hearts have you broken since you left here at age eighteen?" she asked.

He tossed her a look and shook his head.

"Isn't it nice to be honest with all your dirt?" she asked. "Here, I'll go first. I am supposed to date men from my Murder, or other crow shifters in the general vicinity, but none of them stuck. Eventually I tried to date humans, and my mom was freaking out. I was brought in front of the elders of my Murder, and had to sit through a lecture on not being a ho for humans."

He let off a wicked laugh. "You? A ho? Yeah, right."

"Well, that's what they thought."

"You're probably still a virgin."

She huffed a breath. "Excuse yourself, you do not know me like that."

He relaxed back into the cushions of her couch and draped his arm across the back. "How many people have you slept with?"

She hugged her arms around herself and stared at the TV, refusing to answer.

"One?" he asked. "Was it back in high school? Was it Robert Danner on the lacrosse team?"

"Oh my God, you were obsessed with him."

"Obsessed how?"

"You asked me about him a dozen times back then."

"Well, he was an asshole in the locker room and I didn't want you…"

"Didn't want me what?"

"Forget it." He stood and took her plate to throw away in the kitchen, then returned with a fresh beer, but not for himself. He popped the top and put it in front of her.

She took a sip, and pushed. "Robert was a gentleman with me."

"Well, he talked about the girls he fucked in the locker room, and I didn't want him mentioning you."

"Why not?"

"Because…" He frowned, shook his head, and lifted his attention back to the TV.

"Because why?" she asked. She could be a pest, too.

"Because you were my sister's friend."

That bit he'd said earlier, about doing research and realizing shifters could sense a lie? It was true. She could do that, and just now, Tyler had lied.

That wasn't the reason he hadn't wanted Robert to mention her.

"I only kissed him," she admitted, and then watched the tension fade from Tyler's posture.

"Well…good. Not that it's any of my business."

"Do you want to go out with Erin? I don't mind."

"Piss off," he grumbled.

"No, I'm serious," she said. "You're here for the holiday, right? She could probably use a dick-straction."

"A dick-straction?" he repeated.

"Yeah, you've probably practiced breeding with a million women."

"Oh God, Demi. Practiced breeding?"

"Well, I don't know what you humans call it!"

"Not that!" Tyler rubbed his hands over his face and groaned.

"Regretting coming over here?" she asked, finding acute satisfaction with his discomfort.

"No. Just wondering what the hell I did to earn the reputation you've made up in your head about me. Doesn't feel fair."

"Life isn't fair, and sometimes reputations aren't either," she murmured softly, remembering how damn hard it had been when her Murder had been exposed as shifters to the public. Her face had been splashed all over the media.

Tyler was just watching her, quiet. "I tried to call you when it hit the news, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you on the news."

Pain wrenched through her, and she dropped her gaze. "That was a long time ago."

"Two years isn't that long."

She lifted her gaze to him. "Let's talk about anything else."

"Fine. Five fucks, one serious."

"W-what?"

"I fucked five women, and one stuck. I gave her a ring and everything."

Demi sat straight up against the arm of the couch. "You were engaged?"

"Yep. For two years."

"Whoa," she murmured. "Why didn't you get married?"

"I backed out."

"God, you are a walking red flag."

"Well, I never tried to sell myself as a green flag. You asked a question, and I'm answering."

"Holy shit, Tyler. What did you do? Leave her at the altar?"

"No. Geez. I broke it off right after we found the venue. She asked if I was excited, and I should've been, you know? Getting married is a big deal. And we had been engaged for so long, and both of us kept putting it off. I was the right age, I was making the right income, I was at the right phase of my life, so the woman I was dating was supposed to be it, right? But when I looked around the venue, I knew I couldn't go through with it."

"Why not?"

"Because she wasn't it. And if she wasn't it for me, I wasn't ever going to be it for her. Don't feel bad for her. She found her Mr. Right within a year. She got married and has a beautiful baby girl with him now."

"Ouch," she said softly.

Tyler shook his head. "It was supposed to work out like that. Can't hold on to things that aren't yours to hold onto."

His words felt big, and important, especially with him looking so deeply into her eyes while he said them.

"Rachel never told me you were engaged."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the best at updating the family."

"Why not?"

"Because…have you seen my relationship with my dad? It's a shit-show on a good day."

"Maybe that's because you two are so alike. Did you ever consider that?"

"Hell no. He's stubborn."

"Mmm," she said sarcastically.

"He's infuriating, and opinionated, and nothing he says is supposed to be questioned, and he has favorites."

She could see that. Rachel was definitely Mac Durock's favorite kid.

"It was really fuckin' hard growing up his son," he said so low, she almost missed it.

"Daddy issues?" she asked lightly.

He cracked a smile, but she noticed it didn't reach his eyes. "Totally. Anyway, do you think I should go out with Erin? I've had a bad week. She could be a good distraction."

Nothing in her wanted to tell him yes, but he was studying her face for a reaction. "I need more pizza."

"I'll get it. Sit tight." He patted her covered ankle and stood, made his way into the kitchen and plated up another slice of pizza while she contemplated an answer. "What's your phone password?"

"Ten-ten-ten," he told her.

"I need to see how you responded to Erin to come up with an answer. I need to see if you're interested."

She typed in his password, and read his response to her offer to go out tonight. I am meeting up with a friend tonight, but if that falls through, maybe.

"Who was the friend you were meeting up with?" she asked as he set the plate of pizza in her lap.

"You."

"Oh." Stunned, she read down. Erin had told him she was lonely, and then sent him a picture of her with her V-neck shirt pulled low to expose her perfect cleavage. She was smiling; her lips painted bloodred. God, even her blonde highlights were perfect.

He had sent back a generic response of, I will let you know later tonight. Either way, thank you for the invite.

Nice. She handed his phone back. "You sound uninterested."

"Good, because that's how I feel. I've been back in town for about one minute. I'm not trying to reunite with every divorcée I knew in high school. Sounds messy."

Demi scrunched up her face. "You're messy, too."

"So fuckin' messy," he agreed, turning to her with a handsome smile across his lips.

She liked that he could own his mess, and liked that he could be self-deprecating. And honest. He'd given her his phone immediately, and evicted all her judgements. Tyler the boy had been shut down and insulting, but Tyler as a man? He'd grown. He was interesting.

The football game ended, Tyler's team winning by a field goal. She expected him to quickly leave, but he asked what show she was marathoning.

"Umm…murder documentaries," she told him in an effort to scare him off.

"Fantastic. Let's solve one together, you psycho," he muttered, scrolling through the murder documentary options.

She couldn't help her laugh. Here she was, dressed in the absolute rattiest outfit she could muster, with a jock-man, forcing him to watch murder docs with her if he wanted to stay.

"Are you avoiding your parents' house?" she asked.

"Hell yeah. You said you saw the video. I made everything tense there."

She giggled. "You did come straight into town and cause drama."

"Yeah, well, it was for a good cause."

"Your dad isn't ever going to like me. Just like my mom will never like you."

"Chh," he said, hitting play on a show. "Your mom can be won over."

"I bet she can't," she told him.

"Are you daring me? Are you daring me to try?"

"No point," she said. "You toilet-papered her house, and then you broke my little teenage heart."

"Oh my God, you are being ridiculous. It was one kiss!"

"I thought you liked me. My mom saw the excited aftermath of the kiss, and then the devastation when you made out with Hannah Duffey the next day at that party. Teenage angst affects a mother, and you directly caused it. She will hate you until the day she dies. In fact, I think she is going to have ‘Fuck Tyler Durock for life' etched onto her gravestone—when she dies at age one hundred and twenty-seven. Your legacy will live on and on."

"Geez. Should I get her flowers?"

"If you want them immediately burned."

"You Darkes are intense."

"It's genetic."

"What's it like?" he asked softly, relaxing back into the couch and pulling her legs over his lap.

She tensed at the closeness, but he wasn't making it weird. "What's what like?"

"Changing into a crow? Flying away when something gets hard?"

She got quiet and thought about what he was really asking. "Is that what you did, when you left here? You flew away?"

"I'm not a shifter, Darke. I ran away like a normal person."

Demi snorted. "It's not that bad here, you know."

"Mmm. You be the least-favorite son of my father, and then we can talk."

"Hey, you're the one fighting with him on how he should like shifters the first week you come back here."

He laughed. "He really doesn't like you."

"Tell me about it."

"Okay, I will tell you about it. If you were on fire, he wouldn't piss on you to put it out."

"Thanks, Tyler," she said sarcastically. "I'm aware."

"What's it like?" he asked again.

"To Change?"

"Yeah."

She drew into herself and really thought about it. The Change was such a natural thing for her, she'd never really thought about explaining it to humans.

"It feels…tingly. That's the first sign it's going to happen. It feels like bugs crawling under my skin, and I get really hot, and my mind numbs out. Maybe that's my favorite part. Whatever was stressing me in the world before, it just…" She shrugged. "It disappears. The animal processes emotion differently, and with human problems, she doesn't care. She will let them go, and I'm just…"

"You're just what?" he asked softly.

She lifted her gaze to his. "I'm free."

He inhaled sharply, his bright-blue eyes so intense on hers. He pushed up on the couch and leaned over her, his arm locked near her face. He hovered there, looking down at her with such softness in his eyes, and she knew this was bad. It was too deep. It would be something she couldn't take back.

But as she looked up at him, it was hard to care about the consequences of tomorrow.

He leaned down, hesitating just a few inches above her—his eyes on hers, his lips so close.

He looked…scared. He looked as scared as she felt.

Demi did something she would've never done if they hadn't just shared that vulnerable moment. She leaned up and slid her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she could. He relaxed down on top of her and embraced her back. Just…held her.

His hands massaged her back, and he buried his face against her neck. His breath shook as he exhaled.

Muscle by muscle, that big man relaxed on top of her, engulfing her in a sense of utter safety and security.

Demi moved her hand to the back of his head and ran her fingernails gently against it. He groaned, and rested his face right against her neck.

This was the most intimate moment she'd ever been a part of, and it was with Tyler. It was with Tyler. This made no sense. She'd spent so much time being hurt and resenting him, and now she was in his arms? Not kissing. Not fucking. Just…holding. Hugging. Embracing.

"Thank you for sticking up for me," she whispered.

Tyler propped up on his locked arms and looked down at her. His expression was unreadable as he searched her eyes. "I should go."

The pain was familiar. She'd felt it in the rejection all those years ago, after months of liking him, and being kissed by him, and then him leaving in such a brutal way.

She understood, though. He hadn't asked her for anything. He didn't want anything. He had come here as a gentleman and hadn't pushed her.

Tyler was right.

He should leave.

She nodded and drew her hands to her chest, clenching them tightly, rejecting the urge to hug him and draw him back to her.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her knuckles, then pushed off and stood. He wouldn't meet her eyes. He looked upset.

Tyler ran his hand through his hair and glanced at her, then away. "Thank you for tonight."

Demi pursed her lips and nodded. "Sure thing."

Tyler grabbed his phone off the coffee table and then started to leave. He hesitated at the door, but didn't turn around. Instead, he said, "Send me the schedule for tomorrow, and I'll be there."

And then he left.

And again, the clicking of the door closing was the loneliest sound in the world.