Page 140 of Bone Deep
“Oh, I'm absolutely jealous.” Something warm flashes across his face when he says it. Playful. Affectionate.
No need for jealousy. I’m yours.
The thought arrives so abruptly I nearly trip over absolutely nothing.
Jesus Christ.
Harper lifts a hand. “Can I help with anything?”
Ryan points a wooden spoon at her from where he's standing at my stove. “I need music. Can you start a ‘90s playlist on my phone?”
“Ooh,” Harper says, already excited. “Now we're talking.”
“Actually,” I interject, “I have streaming setup on the TV wired through the ceiling speakers. I can help you get it going.”
Harper waves me off dismissively. “Please. I'm a tech genius. I'll figure it out.”
Ryan laughs under his breath while stirring something that smells aggressively buttery. “It's true. Don't let her near your phone.”
Harper snickers and grabs the remote just as a knock sounds at the door. Ryan glances toward it, then lifts both hands. “Can you get that, Spence? My hands have butter all over them.”
I furrow my brow. “Can I get the door in my own condo? Yes.” Ryan grins. I shake my head and think,What is happening?
I cross the living room and pull the door open. Tyler stands there wearing ripped black jeans, a cropped jacket, and enough silver jewelry to blind a small village. I blink at him, then glance back toward Ryan, then back at Tyler. “What are you doing here?” I ask slowly. “And why are you knocking? You know you can just come in.”
Tyler pushes past me immediately. “Gee, thanks for the warm welcome, old man.”
I grit my teeth and shut the door behind him. “Twenty-nine is not old.”
Tyler shucks off his coat dramatically. “You're like a dinosaur in gay years. Next year they won't even let you into clubs anymore.”
I snatch the coat out of his hands before he drops it on my floor. “Says the guy who's not old enough to get into clubs himself.”
Tyler scoffs. “Please. When you're as pretty as I am, they let you in.”
“I don't want to know.”
“To answer your question,” Tyler says smugly, “I'm here because your boyfriend invited me.”
My jaw drops instantly. “He's not my—”
Tyler holds up a hand. “Save it. Also, the door was locked, and I didn't bring my key. Sorry to disturb your peace, gramps.”
Ryan and Cricket burst into laughter from the kitchen. Meanwhile Harper is standing frozen in the living room with the remote still in her hand, staring at Tyler like she's just discovered a new species. Then her face splits into a grin. She points directly at him. “Oh, you're sitting next to me at dinner.”
Cricket appears beside her carrying two glasses of wine and hands one over. Tyler looks both women up and down slowly. “Someone call the diva police,” he says sassily. “Because you two are fucking fabulous.”
“Language, Tyler,” I snap automatically.
Cricket tuts dramatically. “Pish-posh. The fucking is required before fabulous when describing us.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Tyler,” I say wearily, “this is Cricket and Harper. Ryan's sisters.”
“I figured,” Tyler says. Then all three of them converge into an aggressive tornado of hugs and compliments like they've known each other for years instead of thirty seconds.
From the kitchen, Ryan calls, “What am I? Chopped liver? Where's my hug, Little Man?”
Tyler immediately pivots and heads toward the kitchen. “Stop calling me that.”
