Page 106 of Bone Deep
Oh shit. I haven't mentioned Tyler to him. Not once. But to be fair, Ryan and I were just gym-and-fuck buddies until his injury made me realize he was more than that.
I'm protective of Tyler. It's not like I would have casually introduced them. Still, it’s been several weeks since my realization. I’ve met Tyler for dinner a couple times in those weeks, and I didn’t even think to take Ryan. God, I can be a real shit sometimes.
Way to go, Stark.
Ryan whips back toward me, eyes blazing. “What, you have nothing to say? I thought we agreed we weren't going to fuck other people while we were doing,” he waves his hand between us, “whatever this is.”
“Ry—”
“No.” He cuts me off, leaning forward. “I've seen this Tyler person blow up your phone several times since I've been staying with you. I haven't said anything because I didn't think it was my place to, but fuck that. You're going to be my man, Perfect, and no one is getting in my way.”
My jaw hangs open. I have to bite back the smile threatening to take over my face.
“Oh my God,” I finally manage. “You're jealous. Again.”
“Fucking right. Again.”
I sigh, pick up my phone, and type out a quick message to Tyler:Meet me at the diner in thirty minutes.
When I look up, Ryan is staring at me, eyes narrowed. “Making arrangements to go meet your hussy?”
I laugh under my breath. “Stop talking, Ryan, and put your seatbelt back on. We're making a pit stop before going home.”
Twenty minutes later, we're walking, well, I'm walking, Ryan's hobbling on crutches, into Tom's Diner. A few heads turn, recognizing him. I watch him slip on that public persona, the charming football star, and I hate it for him. I'm sure no onegives a second thought to him being here with me. Everything about me screams agent or attorney, and that's likely people's assumption. Still, it has to be exhausting for him, always considering if something as simple as having dinner with a guy would fling open the closet doors.
Flo sees us as she crosses the room, coffee pot in hand, and nods toward my regular booth. I lead Ryan over and help him slide in, propping his crutches behind us. Then I slide in next to him. He looks at me, clearly questioning why I'm not sitting across from him. Flo comes over with menus, drops one in front of each of us and one in the empty spot across. Ryan eyes it, looking between me and Flo.
“Good to see you, Ryan,” Flo says. “I don't think I've ever seen you here for dinner.”
“No ma'am. I've only been for breakfast with Anthony and Chance.”
He’s always so damn polite. It’s irritatingly sexy.
“I love those boys,” Flo responds. She fills my cup without asking, then nods to Ryan's. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He slides his cup over.
She's filling it when the front door jingles. Tyler walks in, short black hair messy but stylish, wearing a V-neck so deep it almost shows his belly button, tattoos scattered across his torso visible through the cut in the fabric. Leather bands on both wrists, black jeans, black construction boots, and a silky scarf wound through his belt loops. Tyler has such a great eye. He really did find his calling.
He arrives at the table, pretends to check a watch on his wrist. “Dinner at four o'clock? Were you hoping they have an early bird special, old man?”
Flo laughs and smacks his arm. “I have bras older than Spencer, you little shit.”
Tyler gives her a bright smile.
“Now get your cute little ass in the booth and be nice. I'll be back to get your order.”
Flo walks off and Tyler plops down, then his eyes widen. “Holy shit! You're Ryan Buterbaugh.”
I sigh. “Ryan, meet Tyler.”
I look over. Ryan's eyes are ping-ponging between Tyler and me. Tyler looks confused too. I take a drink of my coffee, set the cup down. “Tyler is kind of a surrogate little brother.”
Tyler clucks his tongue. “Don't undersell it, old man.” He looks at Ryan. “He saved my ass from getting beaten to a pulp a few years ago. Then he basically saved me from a life on the streets. I'd probably be drugged-up and bouncing between seedy motels with strange men if it wasn't for Spencer.”
Ryan's eyes are still bouncing between us. Then he snaps his fingers and says, “Wait. I've seen you at the youth center a couple times when I've popped in to see Anthony.”
Tyler smiles. “Yep. I work there now.”
