21. Tyson

I feellike the worst person. After our taste testing, I struggled when I got home. Tyree is my best fucking friend in this world, but I hate the way he looks at her. I hate that he gets to stare uninterrupted. That he gets to hold her.

No. No. No.

I lower my head and pound my fist against the table. The floral arrangement she picked out because she said I needed some plants at my place shakes from the force of my fist. I’m reminded that she loves tulips, and the bouquet has her written all over it. She went on a ten-minute rant about floral shops needing more foot traffic and how I should keep these here for her.

I run a finger over the soft petals, and for a split second, I imagine it’s her. I imagine touching her skin, and my chest fills with disgust—not disgust in the touch but at who the thought is of. She’s not mine to touch. I push the vase off the table, and the loud crash does nothing to stop the churning.

I’m the worst person.

“Fuck!” I scream at the top of my lungs. A low growl echoes through my home. Not that it matters. My nearest neighbor is a mile down the road, and I’m the only one in my house. I get up to clean the mess, and after I’m done, I scoot back to sit on the floor. Bringing my knees to my chin, I wrap my arms around them. It’ll be okay; I just have to wait until it subsides.

Crushes happen. I just need to act like it’s nothing until it goes away.

I toss my head back and stare out my window. The property is surrounded by trees, and sunlight spills through the glass. There’s something to be said about having a life to share with someone. My business is thriving, and my home is beautiful, but it’s only ever me here.

My phone chimes, and it’s my younger sister calling.

“Hey, bro, you still coming to my game?”

“Hell yeah, of course, I’ll be there. Tyree and Issa are coming, too.”

I don’t dwell on how her name causes my fingers to tingle.

“I can’t wait; you talk so much about Issa. I’m excited to meet her,” she says, and I frown.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do, but I need to go. See you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I press my phone to my chin and decide I need to get out of this house. My mind is going in circles, and I need something else besides my own thoughts. I jump in my car and head for the mall. I don’t have anything in mind, but I want to be around people even if I never speak to them. Maybe it’s because I’ve always lived alone after college or the fact that I was always the new one in a new city or town, but being in the midst of crowds brings me comfort. There’s only so much alone time I can stomach.

When my phone rings, I pick it up without looking.

“Hello?”

“Hey, man, it’s me. Listen, I have a last-minute appointment I forgot about. I can’t go to the game. I hate that I’ll miss Adrian. I was looking forward to seeing her in action.”

I blow out a breath and smile for the first time today. This is a relief. I’ll go myself, and there will be no longing or twisted feelings lingering in my chest.

“Oh, sorry to hear that. I guess being a regional manager keeps you busy.”

“That it does. It’s Wednesday, and I had no plans of staying late, but we have a new location we’re working on, and deadlines can’t be missed.”

“No worries, we’ll try another time.”

“Cool. Clarissa should be ready on time. If I finish early, maybe I can catch y’all.”

I choke and sputter over my words. “Ugh—catch what?”

“Clarissa is still going. I’m the only one who can’t make it.”

What does joy and dread feel like? An excitement that burns. It spreads from my face to my lungs, down my chest to my torso, down my legs to my toes. I blink and lower my head.

“We can reschedule. Maybe get tickets for the next game,” I say, trying to get out of this.

“No, the season is almost over.”

I’m working up a way to say I really think Issa should stay home, but before I can speak, my ears are filled with a voice so sweet.

“Tyson, I’ll be ready on time. Don’t worry! I’m so excited.”

I clutch the phone to my face and stop walking. The mall isn’t very crowded, but there are pockets of people scattered around. “Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll be there at five.”

“Perfect! See you then.”

The line clicks, and I’m left standing in the mall as people separate and move around me with the phone still pressed to my face.

Shit.

“Please, you know I got it,” Lance says.

Lance is my top executive in the PR firm and a godsend. With the move and trying to get my house secured, it was super hectic, but he made sure the place didn’t fall apart. I’ve already missed so many of my sister’s high school games. It’s important that I don’t miss this one, so when I called Lance to say I was leaving early, he was cool about it.

“Man, I appreciate you.”

He lets me know a few things he has planned before we hang up. Honestly, more is plaguing me than work and the move. It’s Issa. My thoughts keep spiraling and going down a tunnel they shouldn’t be.

I’ve been trying to tell myself to chill, so as I jog up the stairs with the bite of winter blowing around my neck, I resolve myself to get the fuck over whatever this is.

I knock on the door, and a wave of something hits. Issa shouts through the door, and it only proves to rev up that creeping feeling sprouting under my ribcage. I take small breaths, trying to calm it down, flexing my hands through the rush of sweet dread.

“Sorry, I thought I had more time. Get in here.” She pulls me into the apartment while looking out the door before she slams and locks it. The flash of fabric she’s wearing settles around her legs, and I press a hand to my chest, but it does nothing to soothe me.

“I was trying it on just to see how I look. Sometimes, I’m afraid I’ll get to the day of and hate it. Like my taste will change drastically in five months,” she says with a grimace, shuffling the bodice and separating the fabric down her legs.

A jagged line runs along my insides, and it feels like I’m spilling onto the floor. My jaw is open wide, and I can’t speak.

“What? Does it look bad?”

I stutter and shake my head. “No, I— I—wow.”

That’s all I can say. Her hair is styled in a large puffball, and she’s not wearing makeup, but as I shift my focus down her body, my throat gets dry. She’s wearing what is clearly her wedding dress. It’s a light lavender, almost white. Silk shines in the low light as the fluffy, gauze-like material covers her from the waist down to her ankles.

“Really? You like it?” she says, twisting from side to side, holding her waist and smiling.

I’ve never sat on the sun or dipped my toe into a galaxy, but this has to be close. My skin warms, and peace wrapped in dread fills that jagged line under my skin—the beauty of my impending demise. Before I suffocate from lack of oxygen or burn from the flame of the sun, I’d get a glimpse of a beauty so deep I would have no words to speak.

Shit!

She twirls, and that lump turns into sand in my throat.

“Let me change, and then we can go,” she says, and she’s off, a flash of lavender disappearing down the hall. I grip my chest and double over, breathing slow and steady. I try to recall what the first moment was. How I got to a place where I’m standing in my best friend’s apartment as his fiancée gets dressed in the back and wanting to follow her—wanting to kiss her lips and devour the sun even as my skin burns.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and I move to stand straight.

“Yeah, just a little heartburn.”

“Aww, what did you eat? Do you want something? I can see what we have in the kitchen.”

“I don’t think you have anything that will help, but thank you,” I say, rubbing the spot along my chest.

“You sure?”

I nod, choosing not to speak as she puts on her shoes. She’s changed into a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. Pulling a light jacket off the rack, she slips it on before we’re out the door.

As we make our way into the stadium, the crowds are relatively small. I won’t get a chance to see my sister before the game, but I see my other sister in the stands with a group of people I don’t know, waving for me to come up.

I point and move to guide us to the seats. “That’s my sister, Kay, she’s the oldest. And Adrian is the youngest who’s playing; you’ll meet her after.” Issa follows me, and my fingers itch to take her hand, but I let the feeling burn.

We walk up, and my sister introduces us to her friends, a group of two girls and three boys who speak but go back to their own conversation.

“What’s up, Kay?” I say, leaning down to hug her.

“And who is this?”

I bite my lip and turn to see a big smile on her face. “I’m Clarissa. Y’all look just alike,” she says, hugging Kay.

The game is about to start, and the officials are moving around the floor.

I was nervous at first being here with Issa, but somewhere along the way, I settle into the moment. Kay talks to her the most, and everyone is getting along great. The game starts after twenty minutes, and I point out Adrian, who is walking out onto the court. She’s been playing basketball for as long as I can remember, and the girl is a beast.

After I get us food and drinks, we relax, making jokes back and forth. I’m having such a good time, I almost forget. But the next events make me remember.

The crowd shifts, and the talk gets louder.

“Oh, look, Tyson,” my sister says, pointing to the big screen.

Issa and I are on a display of pixels that make an image. We’re shoulder-to-shoulder, looking at ourselves on the big screen. Issa waves them away, but the camera is fixed on us. I swallow and look over to her. She gives me wide eyes before she covers her face.

I grip her hand, and the crowd goes wild, giving oohs and awws as our faces are surrounded by hearts blinking and exploding around our heads.

“Tyson, oh my gosh.” She leans to the side.

“They’ll move on.”

I throw my hands up to say move along, but the cameraman stays put. The crowd starts chanting, and tension is building. Even my sister is nudging Issa in my direction, seemingly forgetting about her fiancé and my best friend. Finally, I lean over and kiss Issa on the forehead, hopeful that’ll be enough to get the cameraman to leave and the crowd to mind their business.

I see the resistance, but it’s enough to appease him as he moves along, and Issa sinks in her seat, hiding her face in my neck. “Thank you. That was so embarrassing.”

Her voice is muffled against my chest, and I catch Kay with a grimace as she mouths, “Sorry.”

I nod and move back to Issa, rubbing her back and feeling like she fits perfectly against me. My mouth still tingles from the connection, although it was brief. We get back to the game, and I find myself biting my lip whenever her arm grazes mine.

The night turned out great after the crowd moved on from our KissCam. My sister’s team won, and she led in assists. After the game, we were able to catch her before she had to go to the locker room. It was already late, so we couldn’t hang out afterward, but Kay and her friends decided to meet Adrian at some spot where all the kids like to hang out after a game. I’ve been out of college for a long time, and I have no desire to hang out with a bunch of kids.

The car ride is quiet, but I don’t mind it. Mostly, it gives me time to mull over this twist in my gut that won’t go away, no matter how many times I shift in my seat as I drive.

“Tonight was so fun.”

“Yep,” I say, keeping it short and sweet. I figure maintaining distance is the best approach. Traffic was heavy getting out of the garage, but we’re moving fast now.

“I can’t believe how much you all look alike. Y’all could be triplets.”

I laugh and turn down her street. “We get that a lot, actually.” Even with the age difference, we look just alike.

“Let me walk you up,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt and turning off the car.

“No, you don’t have to.”

“I know,” I say but continue to get out.

We walk up the stairs, and suddenly, this is feeling like a date. As we reach her door, I clear my throat and stuff my hands in my pocket.

“It was fun. Thanks again.”

“It was.”

The chill in the air pulls us closer, and I flex my fingers in my pockets. I’ve always heard people say the air was charged or it was electric. But until this moment, I didn’t quite understand the meaning. Her eyes are locked with mine, and my heart is hammering in my chest.

She’s about to speak, but the click of the lock sounds, and the door opens.

“Tyson, Clarissa, I thought I heard you out here,” Tyree says, and I lean back with a tight-lipped smile.

“You missed a great game,” Issa says and walks in.

“I’ll catch y’all later,” I say, needing to get the fuck out of here.

“Hold on, Clarissa, I’ll be right back. I just need a word with my boy.” He leans down to kiss Issa, and I turn my head.

“Wait, what about your coat?”

“I’m fine. It’ll only be a minute.” Tyree speaks to Issa, but his eyes are on me. She waves to me and disappears.

Once the door is closed, Tyree walks into my space. “How long have we been boys?”

I pause, surprised by the question, but cock my head to the side and answer. “Fourteen years, give or take.” I shrug.

Where is this going?

“Fourteen years. It feels like less if I’m honest. Time is wild like that, I guess.” He nods and leans back on his heels. “I got a few highlights from the game. Your sister is something else. They might even make it to the playoffs.”

I smile genuinely because they are good. “Yeah, she was dope,” I laugh, reminiscing. I remember how disciplined she always was. From early morning runs to hours and hours of ball handling, she never stopped working toward her goal.

I hunch my shoulders tight, bringing them to my ears to ward off the cold. It’s not the coldest day we’ve had, but the chill in the air stings my skin.

“I feel bad I couldn’t make it to the game. You having to drag Clarissa to events.”

I shake my head, already dismissing it. “No, it’s fine. Issa’s cool people.”

He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes. “Issa? You call her that a lot.”

“You know how I am with nicknames. It’s just easier.” I shrug and swallow hard.

“I bet, but I still feel bad. You’re a single guy. You should be going to clubs or hooking up with, you know, other single women—not dragging my Clarissa around.” His words are sharp, but there’s a slight smile across his lips. He steps closer and then slaps my chest, punctuating the sound with his laughter.

“You’d have your girl, and I’d have my fiancée. That would be perfect, don’t you think?”

He leans in, and I’ve never seen his eyes so focused.

We’re frozen like this, standing out in the cold, looking my friend in his eyes as I wonder if he knows. If he can sense that my feelings have changed for her. If he can sense I’ve been treading water and fighting to keep my cool as the woman who has managed to seep into my soul stands on the other side of the door.

Hisdoor.

Theirdoor.

He leans back and laughs again. “We have to make that happen.” He’s smiling, but I can barely keep up. My insides are twisting, and I flex my fingers.

“It’s cold as hell out here. I’ll call you later. You be good.” With those parting words, he’s back in the house, and I fall against the railing as soon as the door clicks. My breath is coming out like I’ve run a marathon, and I swipe my hands down my face.

Fuck.