LAUREN

 

 

Tyler’s apartment building was not what I was expecting. I expected stylish pomp and modern comfort. Instead, the building it was housed in looked old and run down and more like an abandoned warehouse than a house, something Gabe would have loved.

The elevator with a metal cage whined loudly as we rose to the top level. Tyler slid the rusted metal door aside and his apartment stood open and exposed. The walls were brick, painted a faded white. Bare piping ran along the brick and clung to the ceiling. One wall was covered with a large window that looked out over the city. Shelves stuffed with books and records lined another. Everything was decorated in white, black and shades of grey. Jake was slumped on a white couch, watching a large screen TV, crumbs of potato chips resting on his chest.

“Lauren,” he said, getting to his feet and brushing the crumbs away to fall on the plush mat covering the floor of the living area. “I didn’t know you were in the city.” His steps sounded loudly over the polished concrete floor.

“My flight was cancelled.” I looked around the large room wide-eyed. It covered almost the entire level of the building, open and exposed, only two doors on the opposite wall. There was a bed in one corner beside an open fireplace, logs of wood stacked appealingly beside it. Black and white images hung over the painted brickwork in between the black pipes. “Tyler said it would be fine if I stayed here the night.”

Jake lifted one bushy eyebrow in Tyler’s direction, then turned back to me. “Of course.” He extended his hand and then thought the better of it and gave me an awkward embrace.

“Give her the tour, would you?” Tyler removed his tie and walked from the room.

“Ah…” Jake spun on his heel. “Kitchen and dining.” He pointed left. “My bedroom.” He pointed to the bed in the corner. “Tyler’s room and bathroom,” he finished, pointing at the two doors opposite us.

Tyler returned moments later, his hair damp and messy and dressed in jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt. His feet were bare. “A tour usually involves moving from one spot, Jake.”

Jake grinned and spun on one heel, fanning his arm out to rotate around the room. “This is pretty much it.”

The ceiling of the building rose high above, skylights letting in the last few hints of the sun. I studied the pictures that dotted the walls, some hanging, others merely leaning against the brickwork, all in black and white. The only hint of family or friends came from a single photograph of the four brothers. Tyler stood to the side as Jake, Gabe and Clark stood with their arms flung over each other’s shoulders. They were dressed in matching black tuxedos, sunglasses covered their eyes, and a classic car, bumper in polished silver, glinting with the sun’s reflection was blurred in the background. I guessed it was from Hamish and Billie’s wedding. The image of footprints in dust I had taken on the first day of the job was clearly displayed near the entrance.

“I’m cooking.” Tyler walked across the floor, a glass of wine and an opened bottle of beer in his hands, offering the wine to me and the beer to Jake. “Any preferences?”

“Pizza,” Jake said.

Tyler shook his head, returning to the beautiful kitchen and pulling pans out of the cupboard. I walked over and took a seat on the stool on the opposite side of the marble island bench. “What are you cooking?” I asked, running my hands over the smooth surface. True to his word, Tyler had not even given me a sideways glance since his promise of good behaviour.

“I’m thinking a green curry,” he said, opening the fridge. I was surprised by the amount of produce inside.

“So your grandmother wasn’t exaggerating? You really can cook?”

“My grandmother does tend to embellish my qualities, but yes, I can cook. I like to cook, actually. It relaxes me. Spice level?” he asked.

“I don’t mind a bit of spice,” I replied, waiting for the smart comment to tumble out of his mouth.

But Tyler simply nodded and continued to pull ingredients out of the fridge. The end result was mouth-watering. Even Jake grunted in appreciation. After dinner, Tyler flopped down onto the couch, beer in hand. “TV boring enough for you, or would you like to go out?” He flicked the cap off his beer.

“I’m fine just here.” I placed myself in the gap between the two men. My thigh pressed against Tyler’s and he moved a fraction. We started watching a movie, something light and filled with slapstick comedy that Jake laughed heartily at but Tyler watched without a single twitch of amusement. But before the movie could end, the TV crackled and the room fell into darkness.

“What happened?” I asked, surprised by the blackness of the night.

Tyler got up from the couch and walked over to the large window. “Looks like the whole block is down.” He pulled out his phone and the glow of the screen illuminated his face. I traced the lines of his features with my eyes, drinking in the way his chin was dusted in stubble and the way his hair flopped over his eyes, still damp from his shower earlier. “Yep, car crashed into a power box. Shouldn’t be long before it's back on.

The couch jostled as Jake got to his feet.  A door creaked open and Jake called back into the room, “I’m going to the pub,” before I heard the door shut and his footsteps thudded down the stairs.

“Well,” Tyler said, coming to sit back beside me on the couch. “I guess the movie is over. Any ideas? Want to head to the pub with Jake?”

I shook my head and then realising he couldn’t see in the darkness, cleared my throat. “I’m good.”

“But you’re alone with me.”

“And?” I replied. “You promised to behave and you always keep to your word.”

“That I did,” Tyler said.

“Is Jake okay though? He seems rather quiet.”

Tyler cleared his throat. “He’s got things to sort through. He’ll get there though. We always do.” He got to his feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

As soon as I was alone, I pulled out my phone, checking for messages from Gabe. I had tried to call him a number of times but my calls went straight to voicemail. I had left a message as well as texting him, but he hadn’t replied.

A gentle glow started behind me and I turned to see Tyler lighting a candle, a flat box held in one hand. He walked around the apartment, lighting several candles and then came to sit on the ground near the coffee table at my feet.

“Monopoly?” he asked, setting the box down. “It’s about the most unromantic thing I can think to do on a candlelit night.” He began to take the pieces from the box and spread them out over the table. “Dog, boot, iron, hat or thimble? I think the others have been lost along the line somewhere.”

I reached over and took the boot, placing it at the start of the board. “I have to warn you that I’m rather good at this game,” I said. Growing up under the strictness of my mother, Morgan and I were well versed in the techniques of board games.

“Get ready to eat your words.” He handed me the dice. “You start.”

As it turned out, my monopoly skills had sadly diminished in the years since I had played it, and luck wasn’t on my side. But it was only when Tyler had completely bankrupted me that I admitted defeat.

Tyler just sat there with a huge smirk on his face after we had finished. “What was it you were saying before the game started?”

“Hmm,” I said, feigning memory loss. “I can’t seem to remember.”

“Funny that.” Tyler moved to clear away the game pieces. “I seem to remember it was something along the lines of being good at the game.”

I poked my tongue out, a childish thing to do, but Tyler merely smirked back at me. “I will show you to your room for the night.”

“I thought I’d be sleeping here?” I patted the couch.

Tyler shook his head. “I’ll take the couch and you can have my room.”

“I can’t do that.”

“So you’d prefer to sleep out here with Jake’s snoring? Besides, I don’t really sleep all that much anyway. I guess you could say I’m somewhat of an insomniac.” Tyler boxed the game up and stood. “Follow me.”

Guiding me through one of the doors, we entered his bedroom. Decorated in the same black, white and grey theme, his room was approximately quarter the size of the rest of the apartment. Another large window looked out over the city, only the lights in the distance shining as the repairmen still worked on restoring power. Tyler’s large bed rested against the wall, the dark leather bedhead climbing up the brick behind it.

“Did you purchase it like this?” I asked.

“I bought the building a few years back and decided to convert the loft. I’m not sure what I’ll do with the other levels just yet. They’ve sort of been forgotten in the wake of the casino build.”

“It’s really quite amazing.”

Tyler pressed a button on the wall. Sheer curtains fell over the window. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. The bathroom is right next door. I’ve left a clean towel and things you may need on the bed, but call out if there is anything more you need. Goodnight, Lauren.”

“Goodnight,” I echoed as the door closed behind him.

I stood and looked around at the room in wonder. It was classy and industrial and everything I would choose, given the choice.

And it smelled of Tyler. Crisp and clean.

True to his word, Tyler had left clean towels and some clothing on the edge of the bed, my pack resting on the floor beside them. I lifted the clothing to find a white t-shirt and black satin boxers and proceeded to get changed into them. I slipped through the doorway and into the bathroom. As deep as the bedroom was long, the wall adjoining the bedroom was engulfed by a narrow strip of mirror overhanging two basins. On the other side, a shower behind a single glass panel was large enough for at least four people to comfortably stand within. Another window looked out over a different angle of the city, and I hoped it was made of one-way glass. At the end of the bathroom stood a large square bath made of the same polished concrete as the floors. Tyler’s taste in interior decorating was certainly impressive.

The room smelled of Tyler. The bed smelled of Tyler. The t-shirt I was dressed in smelled of Tyler. His scent was everywhere and because of that, I couldn’t sleep. I lay in the enormous bed, tossing and turning and trying not to think of him. But it was like trying not to think of Christmas when all you could smell was pine needles and cinnamon.

My phone told me it was two o’clock in the morning when I crept out of the room, hoping a glass of water would help me sleep. Opening the door just a fraction, I was surprised to find Tyler still awake, lying on the couch wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and black-framed reading glasses. A laptop rested on his thighs. He didn’t notice as I opened the door, his concentration firmly on the screen, a slight frown on his face, and the headphones covering his ears and blocking out all sound. His hair, instead of being in its usual slicked back style, sat messily around his head. The glasses gave him a more academic, almost nerdish appearance that was divinely sexy and I cursed under my breath as my heart tumbled a little. The light of the laptop reflected in his glasses and there was nothing but numbers and figures covering the screen. I contemplated making him aware of my presence, but in the end, I just tiptoed over to the kitchen and silently looked through the cupboard until I came across a glass. He didn’t stir when I filled it, or when I stood behind the island bench and studied him. It was only when I tried to slip back into the bedroom that he noticed me. Startled, Tyler took the headphones off and hurriedly put his laptop aside, getting to his feet.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. His eyes slipped down to the outline of my breasts under the white t-shirt before quickly snapping back to my face.

I held up the glass of water. “Can’t sleep.”

Tyler walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door and studying the contents. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” 

Closing the door, he looked over at me, eyes firmly locked on mine. “Do you want to eat something anyway?”

Jake’s bed was still empty and so I shrugged and took a seat on one of the stools. “Why not. Tell me, what does Mr Thornton like as a midnight snack?”

He opened the fridge door again and pulled out a block of cheese. “Grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Perfect. You got any onions?”

Tyler opened the pantry door and disappeared into the large space, coming back out holding two options. “Red or green?”

“Red,” I replied, getting up from the stool. “Here, let me cut the onions while you slice the cheese.” I walked around the edge of the counter and took the onion from Tyler. “Knife?”

Tyler pointed to a drawer and I bent down to open it. Behind me, he let out a tight exhale of air. “Can I ask you something?”

Having selected a knife I stood back up. “Of course.”

“Please don’t take offence at this, but would you mind putting some pants on?”

I looked down at my bare legs under the hem of the t-shirt. Tyler’s top was long on me, with him being a lot taller, and it hung well below the cheeks of my backside, leaving me, what I considered, reasonably modest.

“And if I do mind?” I asked.

Tyler smiled ever so slightly. “The choice is entirely yours and it will make no difference to my behaviour, I just might require a little assistance to keep to my word. You can’t possibly prance around my kitchen dressed in only a t-shirt, my t-shirt, and not expect me to notice.”

“I’m prancing?”

Tyler lifted a chopping board onto the bench and then leaned against it, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His eyes slowly moved down my body. I felt my nipples harden as he lingered on my chest and I resisted the urge to cover myself. It would only bring more attention.

“If you insist on remaining dressed like that, I respectfully ask that it is me who gets anything from the lower cupboards.” Tyler’s head tilted to the side. “Or the higher ones.”

“Well,” I placed the onion on the board, “since you asked so nicely, I will.”

He nodded once and I could feel his eyes on me as I walked across the floor to the bedroom to pull on the boxers he had left out. When I returned, a black t-shirt covered his chest.

“I don’t seem to remember asking you to cover up,” I said.

“I thought it would be better than watching you drool.”

I laughed. “I was in no way drooling.”

“Your eyes tell a different story, and besides, personally, I find frying pans and bare skin don’t go well together.”

I sliced the onions as Tyler constructed the sandwiches and turned on the frying pan by lighting the gas hood with a match. He heated butter and produced two golden and crispy cheese sandwiches. Once finished, Tyler hoisted himself onto the bench, legs dangling lazily over the edge as he lifted his plate. “Bon appétit.”

I copied him, sitting on the bench on the other side of the sink. The sandwich was delicious and gooey, and even though I wasn’t hungry to begin with, I devoured it easily. Once Tyler was finished, he hopped down and took my plate, pulling out the dish drawer directly under me. I moved my legs wider to accommodate the drawer and when Tyler closed it, he took a step forward, standing in the space left.

He placed his hands on the bench, either side of my thighs, and looked up at me hesitantly. His expression held a dark longing, and his chest rose and fell as his eyes dropped down to my breasts before falling to my legs which framed him. Cautiously his hands moved so just the tips of his fingers brushed against my skin through the thin satin material. My breath caught and goose bumps dotted my skin as he lifted his eyes to mine, a question of permission hovering in the grey depths. I knew I needed to back away before I did something I would regret, but as Tyler’s hands feathered my thighs and his body leaned closer to mine, I found myself trapped in his gaze. Then, without warning, the power came back on and the moment was lost to the blaring light.

Tyler tore himself away, turning his back to me just as the whir of the elevator announced Jake’s return.

Jake stopped when he walked in, his eyes flicking between us, an accusing glare firmly directed Tyler’s way. “The power is back on,” he said.

“So it is. You want a coffee?” he asked, turning back to me.

“A coffee? At this time of night?”

“I’m a night drinker,” Tyler said.

Jake walked across to his bed and pulled the covers aside. “I’m going to sleep.” He ripped off his shirt, revealing a muscled body dotted in scars, pushed his boots off and slid under the covers, tossing them back over his head.

“I guess I should get back to bed too,” I said.

Tyler looked at me, his eyes still burning with desire. “Night, Lauren.”

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat. “Night, Tyler.”