Make Me Hate You(20)

She was asleep upstairs in one of the many guest rooms, along with the others who couldn’t drive. Morgan’s parents had turned in after one beer around the fire, and now it was just a small group of us, mostly Morgan’s friends from college and Oliver’s handful of buddies who’d shown up early for the pre-wedding shenanigans.

Morgan was telling an animated story about the first time she and Oliver got into an argument — over which jelly was better, strawberry or grape — when a yawn stretched my mouth open wide. I covered it with my hand, shaking my head against the growing fatigue, and then there was a chuckle behind me.

I turned and looked over my shoulder, finding a body I knew all too well.

We’d all dressed up for the occasion, and seeing Tyler in dark, slim-fitting slacks and a black turtleneck paired with a charcoal sports jacket that cut him at all the right angles was enough to make my mouth go dry. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand, and the other was in his pocket. I followed the lean lines of his body up until our eyes met, his highlighted by the fire, and a smirk bloomed on his face.

“It’s only midnight,” he said simply, but I heard the insinuation in his voice. He was making fun of me for yawning, just like he’d given me a hard time for going to bed early the first night I got here.

If only he knew he was the reason I had needed to get away…

I frowned. “Thanks for the time check.”

Before I could fully roll my eyes and turn around to face the fire again, the hand he had in his pockets slipped out and gently gripped my shoulder, stopping me.

I glanced up at his face, studying the unreadable expression there.

“Walk with me?”

He nodded toward the lake, and I looked at it briefly before I looked up at him again. Tyler must have read the uncertainty in my gaze, because he relaxed his stance, taking his hand from my shoulder and slipping it into his pocket again. “You’re falling asleep sitting here,” he pointed out. “Take a walk, get the blood moving. I’ll grab you a new beer.”

“Actually,” I said, standing to join him. I pointed to the glass in his hand. “Can I get one of those?”

His grin climbed, and he nodded with a salute, making his way over to the drinks table Morgan’s parents had set up for the party.

I turned, listening to the last bit of Morgan’s story before Oliver started chiming in with his side. I smiled at their playful banter, glancing around the fire at all the people who loved them enough to take two weeks off from their lives and fly or drive to Bridgechester, New Hampshire. A few minutes later, Tyler returned with a glass of whiskey for me and a new one for him.

And against logic, I walked with him.

We were both quiet, sipping our whiskey and watching the lake before us get closer and closer as we left the bonfire behind. The voices and laughter faded steadily, and then it was just the grass and leaves crunching softly under our feet, the gentle waves of the lake hitting the shore, the calmness of our breaths.

The farther we got from the fire, the more I began to shiver, hugging my jacket around me even tighter.

Tyler cut me a glance with a cocked brow. “That little dress isn’t exactly built for New Hampshire summer nights.”

When I met his gaze, it was heated — even in the dark of the night. I felt those eyes on my calves, my thighs, tracing my lean, curve-less body until they locked on mine again.

“It was built for karaoke,” I defended, putting my hood up. “But maybe I should have changed when we got back here.”

Tyler chuckled, steering us toward the dock, and I followed, taking his cue and having a seat next to him at the edge of it. It was easy for him to plop down, but I had to lower down with all the grace of a baby giraffe, maneuvering so I didn’t flash him in the aforementioned short dress.

His feet dangled below him, and he sat his whiskey to the side, leaning back on his palms and looking out at the lake. The moon wasn’t quite as bright tonight, most of it shaded by thick clouds sweeping by. But still, there was a soft light from above, just enough to make the water glitter and shine.

I crossed my legs — more for warmth than to be a lady, and drank more of my whiskey. I was sucking it down a little too quickly, I realized. Still, the walk had woken me up, just like Tyler had said, and I loved the way the liquor burned on the way down.

“Here,” Tyler said, shrugging off his jacket. He draped it over my legs before I could protest, and I was instantly enveloped in warmth as the faint scent of his cologne rode the wind up to my nose.

“Thank you,” I managed, and I sipped my whiskey with my eyes on the lake.

There was something familiar about sitting next to Tyler on that dock. So many years ago, it had been one of our favorite places to hang out. Whether it was the two of us, or me and Morgan, or all three of us, we’d find a reason to traipse down to the lake and skip rocks off the dock, or watch Tyler attempt to fish, or simply hang our feet in the water when it was high enough. In the high heat of summer, we’d jump off the edge, letting the cool water envelop us, or latch a few floats to the end of it and catch some rays.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Tyler said after a long stretch of silence.

I sighed, eyes on my finger as it traced the lip of my glass. “It’s okay. You were right,” I confessed. “I was being prickly.”

“I was pushing you, though. I should have left it alone.”