Soft music played in the background, the volume low enough that they could carry on a conversation without screaming. The dining room light was dimmed, bathing them in a soft light. It was the best Tyler could do to create a romantic atmosphere. No candles, because he didn't own any. No fancy china or sterling silverware or cut crystal. Hell, it wasn't even really a dining room, just a small widening of the hallway across from the kitchen. The table was small and round, with just enough room for two chairs. He didn't need more than that, not when he lived by himself. He didn't even use them all that much because he usually slopped some food—leftovers or carry-out—on a plate and ate in front of the television.

And it was a stretch to call the food in front of them a meal. At least, not a romantic, home cooked one. Pizza, piping hot even though it had taken almost an hour to be delivered because of the weather, and a large container of Caesar salad. At least he had wine. That counted for something, right?

Jenny leaned across and pulled another slice from the box. A string of cheese stretched from the slice and she reached out, twirled her finger around it, and snapped it off. The point of the pizza dipped down and she quickly brought it to her mouth, twisting her head sideways to take a bite.

Tyler ignored the pull in his gut as her tongue darted out and licked sauce from her lips. He looked away, glanced down at the half-eaten slice on his plate, and smothered a sigh.

He was an ass. Pizza and salad-in-a-box? What the hell had he been thinking? He should have tried harder, should have made an effort to make...something. He could have thrown something together, could have thought of another way to impress her besides calling out for pizza. Any moron could do that. How was she going to believe he was sorry if he couldn't do better than ordering a lousy fucking pizza?

"Don't you like it?"

"Hm?" Tyler looked up, noticed her nodding toward his plate and the half-eaten slice on top of it.

"The pizza. Is something wrong with it?"

"No."

"Then you better dig in before I eat the rest of it."

"You don't have to."

"Don't have to what?"

"Pretend you're enjoying it."

Jenny tilted her head and frowned. She took another small bite, placed the slice on her own plate, then reached for her wine glass. One small sip, then she wiped her mouth with the paper napkin and shifted in the hard chair, curling one leg under her as she propped her elbow on the table.

"Okay, out with it. What am I pretending to enjoy?"

"This." Tyler looked around then shrugged. "The pizza. The salad. All of it. You don't have to pretend to enjoy it."

"Well, I kind of agree with the salad part. When it comes to a choice between salad and pizza, the pizza wins every time. But I still don't understand why you think I'm not enjoying it."

"Why? Because it's lame, that's why. I should have..." His voice trailed off and he looked away. He'd said too much already, he didn't need to be digging himself an even deeper hole.

Jenny muttered something under her breath. He wasn't sure, but he was pretty certain he caught the words "testosterone" and "poisoning"...in that specific order. She took another sip from the wine glass then crossed her arms in front of her and fixed him with a steady look from those slate blue eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing. I just...I should have fixed something better. To impress you. To show you that I really am sorry for last weekend."

One sculpted brow rose, disbelief filling her eyes. "You know how to cook?"

"Not really. I mean, the basics, yeah. Enough to get by—"

"Because Jason can't even boil water. He never had to worry about it because somebody else was always taking care of things so he could focus on hockey. Was it any different for you?"

"Not really, no. But I—"

"So why would you want me to eat something you cooked if you don't know how to cook? Or did you plan on poisoning me instead?"

"No! No, of course not. I—" His mouth snapped closed when he finally noticed the teasing glint in her eyes. Her mouth twitched and then a smile crossed her face. Tyler released the breath he'd been holding and let his own smile break free. "Okay, I guess you have a point."

"Of course I do." She shifted once more in the chair, her hand reaching across the table to rest on his. "Have I ever given you the impression that I'm the kind of girl who's impressed with a fancy show?"

"No."

"Good, because I'm not." She squeezed his hand then sat back. "My needs are simple: food that won't kill me after I eat it. And..."

He leaned forward, waiting for her to finish. The teasing glint disappeared from her eyes, replaced by a seriousness that made his stomach roll with anxiety. He dropped his hand to his lap and curled it into a fist, almost afraid of what she'd say. The silence lengthened around them, his anxiety increasing with each passing second. He finally leaned forward, caught her gaze with his own and held it.

"And?"

"And—" She hesitated again, watching him as she chewed on her lower lip. Then she released a long sigh, her gaze sliding away from his. "And honesty."

"Honesty." Tyler repeated the word, his voice quiet in the stillness that settled between them. His heart pounded in his chest, its beat so loud, he was surprised Jenny didn't hear it. What did she mean? Was he reading things into it that he shouldn't? Did he want to read into it?

Hell no. He wasn't going there. Wouldn't even think of going there.

He pulled in a deep breath, forced his heart to stop clawing its way out of his chest, and leaned back in the chair. "Honesty. Okay. Did you, uh, have anything particular in mind?"

"Yeah, I did." Her gaze darted back to his, the blue of her eyes dark and deep as she studied him. Serious, intent. "Explain last weekend."

The words surprised him, not even close to what he had expected. Disappointment filled him and he brushed it away. Why the hell was he disappointed? Five seconds ago, before Jenny spoke, he'd been worried. Afraid she meant something else when she asked for honesty, afraid she wanted to discuss feelings and emotions. Afraid she'd ask for something he wasn't ready to even think about, let alone give. Why the hell was he disappointed?

Maybe because he'd hoped—

No. No fucking way. There was no way in hell he would even go down that road. Not fucking happening. Not now, not tomorrow. Not even six months from now. Just—no.

Tyler released the breath he'd been holding, a slow exhale designed to buy him a few seconds to get his thoughts in order. Jenny was still watching him. Waiting.

"Last weekend." He breathed in deeply through his nose, let it out nice and slow. "I, uh, told you already."

"That you were jealous?"

"Yeah. Not really. I mean, no."

Jenny's brows rose up in silent disbelief, her eyes never leaving his. Was that amusement he saw in their depths, or something else? "So, which is it?"

"Maybe a little jealous. I guess."

"Of Zach?"

"No, of course not." Tyler looked away, his face heating under her steady gaze. "Okay, maybe just a little."

"You honestly thought that I would do something with Zach? Of all people? He's like a brother to me."

"No. I mean, I hope not but—"

"You hope not?" The glimmer was definitely gone from her eyes now, replaced by a flash of anger. Her voice changed, becoming a little cooler, a little more detached. "That doesn't say much about what you think of me, does it?"

"What? That's not what I meant."

"Really? Because that's what it sounds like." The words were clipped, short and biting. Angry—but also hurt. And shit, he hadn't meant to hurt her. He should have kept his mouth shut, shouldn't have said anything. Only he had, and now he had to fix it.

Tyler pushed out of the chair, quickly rounded the table and leaned down in front of her. Jenny held herself still, her back and shoulders stiff, her gaze still focused on the wall across from her. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, wanted to pull her into his arms and reassure her.

Something told him that was the last thing he should do. That Jenny would just push him away if he even tried. So what could he do?

Honesty. She'd asked for honesty. So that's what he'd give her.

"That's not what I meant, not even close. Was I jealous? Yeah, I was. But not because I thought you'd do anything. I was jealous because...because—" He took a deep breath then ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words. Honesty. Should it be this hard?

No. Except it was forcing him to open up and discuss emotions, which was exactly what he wanted to avoid. This wasn't something he was used to doing.

He took another deep breath, searching for the right words. They were there, right within his reach. All he had to do was open his mouth and say them.

And hope she'd understand. Hope they didn't make him look like an ass.

"I was jealous because all night long, all I wanted to do was sit next to you. To talk to you. To hold your hand and maybe ask you to dance. But I couldn't do any of those things, could I? Because Jason was there and he'd lose his shit. But it was okay for you to go outside with Zach. For you to come back in wearing his coat and for you guys to hug and kiss and—"

"We were not kissing!"

"Jenny, I was watching. It was a kiss—"

"It was a stupid peck on my cheek. Because he was thanking me. Why are you trying to twist it and—"

"It doesn't matter. Don't you see? That's what I'm getting at. I was jealous because Zach could get away with it and I couldn't even talk to you! And then you started dancing with Aaron—"

"Oh my God, this is ridiculous. Do you even have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" Color filled her cheeks and fire flashed in her eyes. She tried to push away from the table, to push out of the chair, but her leg was still tucked under her, stopping her—and giving Tyler a chance to wrap his hand around hers. Her fingers stiffened but she didn't pull away. She wouldn't look at him, either.

"You asked me to be honest. I'm trying."

Jenny hesitated, some of the stiffness slowly leaving her. She kept staring at the wall, though, her jaw tight and her lips pursed. Tyler squeezed her hand then released it, leaned back a little to give her more space.

Then he held his breath, waiting, wondering. Would she get up and leave? Or would she wait and listen to him, give him time to try to get out the words he was struggling so hard to find?

Long minutes went by, filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing over the low notes coming from the stereo system. Jenny didn't move, didn't try to stand up or walk away. A good sign? Tyler hoped so.

He crouched next to her, the butterfly position so natural that it somehow eased him. Calmed him. He took a deep breath, tried to relax his mind, tried to stop fighting the worry that tensed his muscles. Mental preparation, getting his head in the game.

Only this wasn't a game.

"Jenny, I—" He paused, swallowed, cleared his throat. "I've played by the rules all my life. Every damn day, and they've gotten me nowhere. But I didn't care, because I still played by them—right up until I met you. And I don't want to play by the rules anymore. Not with you. I think—I think that's why I was upset. Maybe 'jealous' is the wrong word. I don't know. I'm not good with any of this stuff. I just—God, it fucking sucked, having to sit there all night and watch you and not even be able to talk to you. To pretend we barely knew each other. Am I the only one who thought that? Or were you okay with it?"

Jenny's head tilted in his direction, her eyes sliding to his for a quick second before darting away. Tyler held his breath, waiting, almost afraid of what she would say. She finally spoke, her words so soft he almost missed them.

"No, I wasn't okay with it."

Relief shot through him, but it was short-lived. No, she wasn't okay with it. That was a step. But what next? Did he leave it at that? Did this settle things between them?

No, not even close. But what next? What else was there to say? He opened his mouth, closed it again, his mind frighteningly blank. Another deep breath then one more try, searching for whatever words felt right. Hoping the right words would come out.

"You asked me for honesty. I'm asking you for the same thing. This, whatever this is between us—what are we doing?" And whoa, fuck. Where the hell had that come from? What the hell was he asking her?

And what the hell answer did he want to hear?

Jenny avoided his gaze and shrugged. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Didn't she? Or did she simply not want to answer? "We've been seeing each other for two months, Jenny. What are we doing? Are we going to keep having nights like last weekend? Where we're both pretending we don't know each other? Is that what you want, to keep this on the down-low? Because I don't."

And there it was, as close to saying what he felt as he was able to get right now. So why didn't he feel better? Why was that heavy weight still pushing against his chest, making it hard to breathe?

Because Jenny wasn't saying anything. She wasn't even looking at him. She was just sitting there, her hair hiding most of her face so he couldn't even see what she might be thinking. And he couldn't think of a damn thing to say, didn't know what else to ask her. So he waited. And waited some more, until she finally spoke, the words halting and uncertain.

"You mean tell Jason?"

"I mean stop hiding that we're together. If that means telling your brother then yeah, we tell him."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because he—I just don't, that's all."

Something tightened inside him, made his gut clench. He leaned back, putting distance between them, and repeated his question. "Why not?"

"Because I don't. You don't know Jason. He'll just think..." Her voice trailed off, a deep blush staining her cheeks.

"Think what?"

"Nothing. It's not important."

The words hit him square in the chest, knocking him off-balance. Not important. Well, what the hell had he expected? He almost laughed, had to choke it back because he knew it would come out sounding all wrong: strangled, hoarse. Pitiful. He should have never started this conversation, should have never opened his fucking mouth.

Should have just let things go the way they were going.

He pushed to his feet and started busying himself with cleaning up the remnants of their dinner. Jenny didn't move but he could feel her eyes watching him, felt her gaze in the middle of his back as he tossed the pizza and untouched salad in the trash. So now what? Did he just pretend nothing had happened? Did he act as if the words meant nothing to him? Not important.

Yeah, he could just brush them off with no problem. Right, sure. No problem at all.

"I should probably get going."

Tyler didn't answer, just grunted. Agreeing with her? Maybe. Yeah, probably. There wasn't much point in her staying, not with the way things stood right now. Things would either keep going like they had been for the last two months, or they wouldn't.

Did it matter? No.

Who the fuck was he kidding? It did matter. He didn't want things to continue the way they had been. He wanted more, only he was just now realizing it. Now, when it was too late.

Tyler leaned against the kitchen counter, his hands curling around the edges, the tile cutting into his palms. Late to the game—again. Realizing things too late. Falling short.

The story of his fucking life.

And fuck. He should say something. Should tell Jenny...what? What should he tell her? He'd already tried and it hadn't worked. They were on opposite pages of whatever playbook they were working out of, so what did it matter?

It mattered because he had to try. Had to make sure she meant what she said. Had to at least try to understand what she meant.

He spun around, ready to say something, ready to give it one more shot. Her phone started ringing as soon as he opened his mouth, cutting him off.

Da dum. Da dum. Dadum dadum dadum.

Jason. Great. Of course it was. And if that wasn't a fucking sign—Jason calling, that stupid ass ringtone—he didn't know what was.

Jenny tossed him an apologetic glance then pulled the phone from her pocket. Irritation was clear in her voice when she answered, practically snapping a curt Hello.

"I told you, I'm at a friend's house." Her eyes snapped to his then shot away. "No, I'm not staying. I'm getting ready to leave now."

And there was his answer. Tyler swallowed back a curse and finished clearing off the table, doing his best to ignore her.

"It's just a little snow. I'll be fine." Jenny pushed away from the table and made her way over to the patio doors, her hand peeling back the curtain. "What accident? What are you talking about?"

Tyler froze, concern immediately pushing away every other thought swirling through his mind. Had someone been in an accident? Jason? Megan? One of their teammates? He made his way over to the patio doors, stood next to Jenny and looked out into the frozen night.

Ice covered everything, weighing down the small trees lining the parking lot, twisting their branches into grotesque forms. Ice hung from the wires, large icicles that danced and swayed in the wind. Light glinted off the asphalt, its surface covered in thick and treacherous ice. Pellets fell from the dark sky, a steady sheet that caught the light from the street lamps and threw it back, distorting everything.

He felt Jenny's eyes on him, heard her release a weary sigh. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'll stay here. I'll be fine."

She disconnected the call, the phone still in her hand as she stared out at the scene in front of them. "That was Jason."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"He said the roads are pretty bad. They closed 30 because of a bad accident."

"Was it anyone we know?"

"No."

"That's good, at least."

"Yeah, I guess." She hesitated, shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then blew out a deep breath. "He, uh, he doesn't want me driving. He said it was too dangerous."

"He's right." Tyler released the curtain, watched as it fell back into place, the edges swaying for several long seconds before coming to a stop.

"Can I—I mean, is it okay if I—"

"Yeah. Sure. I'll get the blankets and pillow for the sofa." Tyler brushed past her, trying not to look at her.

Trying to convince himself that it wasn't disappointment or regret he saw on her face.