Part 6 (1/2)
His jeans are buckled in a blink of an eye, and all I've managed to do is pull up my panties. After digging around in my purse, I toss him my keys.
He opens the door, but before he leaves he turns back and pulls me toward him in a tight embrace. ”I'm so happy you're here, Mel. I've missed you so much. I'm gonna kiss you silly for the next two weeks so you better have brought your lip gloss.” He backs away and taps my nose with his index finger.
”Oh, Ty. I'm gonna do more than just kiss you silly. Now, go get my stuff because I plan on getting started by spending a good portion of today naked with you.”
Hours later, we're sitting in front of the TV, with video game controllers in our hands.
”I really have a love-hate relations.h.i.+p with technology,” I say, as I try to remember which b.u.t.tons do what.
”Really? I have a love-hate relations.h.i.+p with my PS3.”
”How so?”
I glance over. The tip of his tongue peeks out the side of his mouth. ”Well, I really love my Play Station. And I really hate it when people interrupt me when I play it.” He chuckles with a waggle of his brows.
”Well, excuse me,” I tell him, pretending to be offended.
”Except for you, of course.”
”Good answer.”
”So why the love-hate for you?” he asks, as he sacks my quarterback.
”Well, I love my cell phone, the internet, and animated movies. But I really hate these effing controllers. What the h.e.l.l happened to the one with the joystick and the big red b.u.t.ton?” I toss the controller on the table. ”This one is way too complicated. Let's go to an arcade so I can kick your a.s.s on Centipede. You could never beat me.”
Ty sets his controller next to mine and leans back on the sofa with his head resting on my shoulder. ”Oh my G.o.d. You were like a pool shark when it came to that game. You had magic hands with that roller ball. I don't think anyone took your name off the top score for months.”
He's right. My hand would glide across that ball with such finesse and precision. It was like an art form with a perfect combination of roll and slap of the b.u.t.ton. I loved Centipede. And even more, I loved it when Ty would invite me and Shel to tag along with his friends. His girlfriends didn't like it, but I didn't care. And I don't think he did either.
”Remember Jen? She hated it when you and my sis would come to the arcade with us. She said I paid more attention to you than I did to her.” He s.h.i.+fts his head upward, lining up his eyes with mine. ”She was probably right. Even when you were in junior high and I was already in high school, I had feelings for you. I don't think I knew exactly what they meant yet, but there was definitely something there.”
”Well I knew I had a crush on you. But if anyone told me that twenty years later you'd be nailing me against your front door, I would've never believed it.” I waggle my brows at him. ”Wait, at that age, if someone told me that, I may have thrown up.”
He chuckles. ”Thanks, Melly Belly. Just what every man wants to hear.”
”Just keeping it real, dog.”
”Okay, Randy Jackson.” He reaches for my hand and links our fingers together. I watch as he studies are joined hands, tracing the connection with the fingertips of his free hand. ”This would make a beautiful sketch. Your tiny little feminine fingers contrasting against my big man hands.”
”You're right. You should sketch it for me.”
”Maybe I will.” He glances up at me. ”What do you want to do today, Mel? Go out to dinner? Stay in? Do some sightseeing?”
I let my head fall back against the soft seat cus.h.i.+on. ”Actually, I'd love to stay in and rest. It was a long drive. I'm going to be here for a couple weeks so I'm in no rush to hit the town. You got any cereal?”
”How about I make us some waffles?”
I laugh inside. ”Nah. Cereal will do.”
”Fruit Loops?”
I smile. Shel called it. ”Sounds like a perfect dinner to me.”
”How about a movie with our gourmet meal?”
”Even better.”
When I'm finally relaxed with a giant-sized bowl of cereal in my hands-apparently human-sized is way too small-I glance over at Tyler with a grin.
”You suck,” he says, and I can't help laughing. ”I hope you snort a Fruit Loop up your nose.”
”Shh,” I tell him. ”The movie is about to start.”
He rolls his eyes.
After much debate, I won the battle of the DVDs. If he doesn't like romantic comedies then why does he own them? Ugh. It just occurs to me that he has them for his female visitors. Why argue with me then? Is that part of the flirting game? Argue over film choice and then let the girl think she's won. Hmm. Now, I'm skeptical. I reach for the remote and hit the pause b.u.t.ton. ”Ty, if you don't like He's Just Not That Into You, then why do you have it?”
He turns his head in confusion. ”Huh?”
”Why do you have it? If you don't like to watch it?”
He laughs. ”ScarJo.”
”What?”
”ScarJo,” he repeats.
”Okay, is that some fetish you have or something?”
A brow rises on his left side. ”Kinda.” He winks. ”Scarlett Johanssen. Take a look. I have all her films. Just like you have every Bradley Cooper movie ever made. Even that really bad one. What was it called?”
”All About Steve,” I answer for him.
”Yeah. That was it. Horrible.”
I press play on the remote, scoot closer to him, and then pull my feet up to sit cross legged. ”Fine, if I get Bradley, you can have ScarJo. But you have seen this movie, right? She's such a scuz bucket.”
”And your man as the cheating husband is any better?”
”A cheating husband is never a good thing.”