Mia
I lie in bed and look down at the T-shirt, smoothing it over with my hands. I don’t know what possessed me to grab this shirt. I guess I wanted some kind of comfort.
Tyler was wearing this T-shirt the first time I ever met him. We were at a costume themed birthday party, one my friend Alex was throwing for her fiancé—now husband. I’d recently broken up with my boyfriend, so it had taken a lot of coaxing to get me to come. When I did, Alex forced me to wear this ridiculous The Flash costume since it was a comics-themed birthday party. The costume barely left anything to the imagination. I mean, it wasn’t much different to the uniform I used to wear at Hooters, but I was twenty-six, not twenty-one anymore, and wearing such a slutty outfit felt ridiculous. I felt ridiculous, especially with hips I always deemed as too large and legs too skinny.
Well, that was before Tyler came sliding over and indefinitely turned my frown upside down. I’d never felt more beautiful than I did after spending five minutes in Tyler’s presence. In that one moment when he appeared in my life, it all changed for me.
I know I shouldn’t, but I close my eyes as I allow the memory to swim into my mind.
I looked stupid.
I was a newly single twenty-six-year-old spinster, dressed as a character named The Flash. I’d had no idea who The Flash was until I Googled her. Then, I was mortified to learn The Flash was in fact a he, and I was simply wearing an outfit designed to sexually exploit women. Because why else would they make an outfit based on a male character for women? At least, if I’d worn the man’s costume, it’d have covered a hell of a lot more skin.
Sexist pigs.
I stood in the corner of the sitting room, nursing my third drink of whatever this pink shit in my glass was, with a scowl permanently etched on my face. This wasn’t the fixed expression I’d had when I arrived, but the more guys who hit on me and squeezed my ass, the more my scowl grew.
In short, I didn’t want to be here.
I rolled my eyes when I felt another guy sidle up to me, and I awaited the stupidity that was bound to spill out of this douche-bag’s mouth any second now.
After a few beats, he spoke, “You look like you’re having just as much fun as I am.”
His words surprised me.
I sensed the obvious sarcasm in this guy’s voice, and as I turned to him, I blinked in shock when I saw how insanely attractive he was. He was Channing Tatum-meets-Jensen Ackles attractive. In fact, he could have been Jensen’s brother for all I knew. However, I didn’t let his good looks fool me.
I replied coolly with, “Why? Have you had guys hitting on you with pathetic one-liners and groping your ass all night, too?”
He raised a brow, and I saw the humor dancing in his eyes, but he didn’t let himself smile.
“I can’t say I have, or I’d have to beat the shit out of any guy who had the nerve to touch my ass. I’d be happy to kick the shit out of the guys who touched yours. Just point them out to me.”
I had to refrain myself from the barest hint of a smile at his alpha-male declaration. I’d known the guy all of twenty seconds, and already, he wanted to beat other dudes up for me. I didn’t know whether to be offended by his obvious violent tendencies or flattered that he’d honor me like that.
“Are you only saying that because you want to grope my ass, too?”
He smirked before saying, “Only by invitation.”
“Good to know,” I replied, liking his response.
Feeling at ease in this stranger’s presence, I pivoted my body toward him and glanced down at his Star Trek T-shirt that had the words, Live Long and Prosper, below a Spock hand graphic.
“I see you made the effort tonight,” I stated with a lightness to my voice that almost felt foreign to my own ears.
He glanced down at his T-shirt, smiling. “Yeah, and this is the farthest extent it will ever go. I hate costumes. I do, however, love Star Trek.”
I nervously smoothed down my dress, pulling at the end of the skirt, desperately wishing I could add on a few more inches in order to cover more of my thighs. I felt fricking naked. “I wish I’d worn a T-shirt—although not a Star Trek one, as I wouldn’t be seen dead in it,” I said with a look of utter disgust, smiling.
He snorted. “Hey, that’s uncalled for. Star Trek is awesome.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to take your word for it,” I replied dryly, a smirk on my lips.
His lips pulled up into a matching smile. He lowered his gaze to take in my outfit, but unlike the jerks who had been practically eye-fucking me all night, wishing they had X-ray vision, his eyes only took a quick sweep before returning to my eyes.
“So, do you not like The Flash?”
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” I edged closer, and he eagerly closed the space between us. “I had no idea who The Flash was. Wonder Woman was taken, so my friend forced me to wear…this,” I said, sweeping both hands in front of me.
His laughter filled the air between us, and my breath constricted at the very sound. Husky, carefree, and sexy as hell.
“Well, regardless, you’re rocking the hell out of that outfit.”
I frowned. “I’m not sure I agree with that statement. I look ridiculous.”
He looked serious for a second before shaking his head. “I apologize if I sound like every other douche bag here, but you look smoking hot. Red is definitely your color.”
Ten minutes ago, if any other guy had said this, I would have wanted to sucker-punch them, but the way the words had fallen effortlessly from this beautiful stranger’s mouth made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I felt beautiful.
I felt sexy.
I felt desirable.
However, this outfit still wasn’t doing it for me. Smoking hot or not, I still felt preposterous.
“If it were any other color, I would have stayed home tonight, but still, I’d prefer to be wearing a burlap sack instead of this dress.”
His grin widened before he tilted his head to the side, staring down at me, almost lost in thought for a few seconds. “I have an idea,” he said.
He took hold of my hand and pulled me through the throng of bodies dancing on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room. He navigated us upstairs until we came to a stop outside the bathroom. Immediately, my hackles began to rise, and I snatched my hand from his, feeling the wrath heat my skin with anger.
“I don’t know what you think’s going to happen, but I’m not sleeping with you,” I snapped, folding my arms over my chest.
He looked surprised at my sudden outburst before shaking his head on a hearty chuckle. “Wow, the douche bags have really set the bar for the rest of us tonight, huh?”
I sighed a breath of relief before laughing. “Sorry, I seem to have a one-track mind.”
“You don’t have to tell me!” he exclaimed, still laughing. “I mean, I’m no saint—I’ve slept with my fair share of women—but I at least buy them a drink first before any groping and sexual activities begin.”
He winked, and I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
If not, at least he was honest, and after coming out of a two-year relationship filled with only lies, honesty was refreshing.
“Okay, so if you didn’t bring me up here to sleep with me, what did you bring me up here for?”
“Well, it has some of the similar traits as sleeping with someone, as it involves taking off our clothes, but that’s the extent of it, I promise.”
I shook my head, not understanding. “I’m not following.”
He inched closer until every ounce of skin I was showing—which, quite frankly, was a lot in this hideous dress—was affected by the warmth that radiated from him.
“You change into my T-shirt, and I…” He glimpsed down at my dress, and he didn’t need to finish his sentence before I roared with a fit of laughter.
“Are you kidding me? You can’t wear this. It won’t fit you. Plus, you said you don’t wear costumes.”
“For you, I will, and, baby, trust me, I’ll make it fit,” he responded with a shit-eating grin, almost like I’d just dared him and he was not backing down from the challenge.
“You’re really serious?” I said, unable to control my laughter.
“As a heart attack.”
“Are you drunk?”
He shrugged. “A little.”
“And you’re doing this because…”
“To prove to you that not all guys are jerks and to see you wear a Star Trek T-shirt when you said you wouldn’t be seen dead in one.”
I rolled my eyes at his Cheshire cat grin.
“Okay, fine. Anything is better than showing any more of my ass in this thing. Instead, you can show yours,” I goaded.
He stepped backward until his back met the bathroom door. “You have to promise me one thing though.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, stepping forward, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“Keep your hands off my ass.”
My mouth twisted with humor, and I shook my head. “You’re something else.”
“It’s what I always aim to be.” He opened the bathroom door and swung his hand in the same vicinity. “Ladies first.”
I strutted past him and stepped inside the bathroom. He entered behind me before closing the door and twisting the lock.
He turned to me, and for a few long seconds, we simply stared at each other. During that time, my stomach flipped at how intense his beauty seemed under the brightness of the spotlights. It took him speaking to pull me out of my spell.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
“Turn around,” I demanded in a no-nonsense tone.
His brows drew in, and he glanced down at my attire. “You do realize, stripping down to your underwear isn’t much different than the outfit you’re wearing,” he pointed out.
And he’d be right if I wasn’t almost naked under this.
“Yes, but it is when I’m not wearing a bra, and quite frankly, I don’t know you well enough to show you my tatas.”
He choked out a laugh. “Your tatas? What are you? Twelve?”
“Just turn around.” I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my smile.
“Fine,” he said, sniggering, as he turned to face the bathtub.
“You’d better not try to peek,” I muttered as I whipped the dress up over my head.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sunshine,” he said in a playful tone that had me immediately doubting him.
However, he stayed put when I asked, “T-shirt, please?”
My jaw almost dropped to my feet as my eyes became trained on the way his muscular back and shoulders rippled when he peeled the T-shirt from his body. I’d never found a back so sexy before, but his was the definition of sexy. The skin was smooth, tan, and…
“Here you go.”
His words pulled through my thoughts on a blink as he held out his T-shirt. I grabbed hold of it before quickly slipping it on. It was huge and two times too big, but thankfully, the length fell just above my knees, and I felt a lot less self-conscious in my own skin.
“You decent?” he asked a few seconds later.
“Yes.”
“Okay, now, it’s your turn to turn around. I don’t know you well enough to show you my tatas.”
I snorted out loud at him using my line and decided to follow suit. “Your tatas? What are you? Twelve?”
“Just turn around,” he mocked.
And I did as he’d said while giving a roll of my eyes. I looked at the tiled walls as I heard a zipper being pulled down and then the ruffle of jeans shifting down his legs. Around thirty seconds passed until he told me to turn around, and when I did, I was unable to control myself as projectile laughter escaped my lips.
“Oh my God!” I clutched hold of my stomach through my hilarity as my eyes raked over him. “You look…”
The halter neck of the dress looked like it was choking him while the rest of the dress stretched out to make room for his muscular chest and the length covering just below his crotch.
“You look like the Hulk just before he tears out of his clothes!” I cackled, struggling to catch my breath.
He feigned offense with a pout, pointing to himself. “What? Are you saying I don’t look sexy as hell in this little red piece?”
“No, not at all. Your underwear really finishes it off.” I indicated to his black boxer briefs that peeked out just below the dress.
He beamed, looking down at his attire with a shake of his head.
“Oh, you’re missing a few things,” I said, realizing I was still wearing the eye mask, the satin gloves, and thigh-high boot covers. I peeled the boot covers down my legs, revealing the red peep-toe heels that had been hiding beneath. I threw them at him before making work of the gloves. I stepped up toward him once he pulled the boot covers up his legs. “Arms,” I demanded.
He held both arms out with a quirk of his lips, and I focused intently as I placed the glove on his right hand, stretching it over his thick arm before meeting resistance at the top of his forearm. I moved on to his left arm.
“You know, I don’t even know your name,” I spoke as I rolled the glove up until I was met with the same resistance.
“It’s Tyler.”
I glanced at him and smiled.
Tyler.
“It suits you.”
“Well, my mama gave it to me when I was born, so I’ve had plenty of time to grow into it.”
I laughed for what seemed like the thousandth time during the space of ten minutes. This guy was making my shitty night turn into a pretty memorable one, and I didn’t miss the way my heart skipped a beat at the very thought. It had been a long time since anyone made me laugh, let alone put a smile on my face.
“Well, Tyler—or The Flash”—I winked—“it’s nice to meet you. I’m—”
“Mia. I know,” Tyler cut me off.
I reared my head back in confusion. “How do you know who I am?”
“I know a lot about you,” he confessed.
WTF?
My stomach dropped.
Great. I have a stalker.
My distressed look of alarm must have been obvious on my face because he chuckled under his breath.
“Relax. I’m not some stalker who’s come to have his wicked way with you. I’m best friends with Matt.”
I immediately loosened up.
“Matt as in Alex’s fiancé?” I asked even though I only knew one Matt, and it was the guy who was throwing this party with my best friend.
“The very one,” he confirmed.
“I didn’t realize he had friends,” I said on a whim, smiling at my own joke.
“That’s because I’m his only friend,” he joked.
I reached behind my head, unfastened the Velcro of my mask, and peeled it off. “So, how is it that you know me, but I don’t know you?” I leaned into him, placed the eye mask on him, and fastened it in place.
“Well, Alex has been telling me for a while about her awesome friend—aka you—who moved to Louisiana with her boyfriend, but if she weren’t with him, she’d be perfect for me…if I weren’t—and I quote her here—‘such a male-whore,’ that is.”
He smirked, and I gently laughed.
“Then, when I arrived tonight, she told me you’d recently moved back to town, and you were trying to get over a broken heart. She thought you were in the living room, moping over him, but I now know that you weren’t. It was because of this outfit.”
He pointed down to himself, and I couldn’t help but shake my head with amusement at how ridiculous he looked.
“I don’t understand why Alex has never mentioned you.”
“She was hardly going to tell you about some guy who was perfect for you when you were with another dude.”
“Perfect for me?” I mused, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“Yes. I’m perfect in every way. And I’m not just talking about the upstairs department.”
He wagged his eyebrows, and I giggled some more.
“Well,” I began, my hilarity fading, “I’m not with him anymore. I wish she’d told me about you though, as it would have been nice to know I had better options waiting for me at home.” Then, I might not have wasted two years of my life with a conniving liar.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you break up?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Always.”
“He was an ass, one who didn’t deserve me.”
Tyler gave me a genuine smile. “An ass who is stupid enough to let a beautiful woman like you go definitely doesn’t deserve you.”
Those words seemed strange, coming from a guy like him, a guy who probably had more notches on his bedpost than I’d had menstrual cramps, but I believed every word he’d said.
I didn’t have a response for that, so instead, I stepped back and gave him a twirl. “How do I look?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Always,” I repeated his word with a bright smile.
“You look like a wet dream.”
His deep laughter roared around the bathroom when I smacked him in the chest.
“I don’t want to look like a wet dream. I’m aiming more for nightmare here!”
“Okay, okay…you look awful, terrifying. Ugly. Happy?”
“Yes, if I believed you.” I rolled my eyes.
“What can I say? You’re dressed in my T-shirt. Guys’ T-shirts are usually only worn by chicks the morning after a night of hot sex.”
I hitched an eyebrow with surprise.
“You can’t blame me. It’s a universal dude code. Nine times out of ten, we’ve got our head in the gutter with some kind of dirty thought.”
“So, it’s true when they say men think about sex every thirty seconds?” It’d always been a question that intrigued me.
“Pretty much, yeah. Although your thoughts get less pervy, the older you get. Or, at least, that’s what I tell myself whenever I’m tempted to jerk myself off in my office at work.”
With humor in my voice, I said, “Please tell me you haven’t.”
“Of course not. I’m not an animal,” he said, as if this were the most unethical thing a person could do. The mischievous glint in his eyes told me otherwise, especially when he added, “I just go to the bathroom instead.”
“Tyler!” I shrieked through my laughter.
Seriously, who is this guy, and where the hell has he been all my life?
“What? My colleagues just think I ate a bad burrito or something.”
I shoved him in the direction of the bathroom door, biting my lip to stop from giggling more. “I honestly don’t know if meeting you was a good or bad thing.”
He turned to me, his smirk never faltering from his face. “How can you even question that? I’m dressed as a motherfucking drag queen just so I can impress you.”
“You’re trying to impress me?” I questioned, a little shell-shocked.
His face grew serious, and I just knew he was about to put it all on the line for me.
“Yes, from the minute I laid eyes on you earlier tonight. But what you don’t know is that it took me two beers and a shot of whiskey just to get the courage to approach you. And, FYI, you’re the first woman I’ve ever been nervous to approach.”
I was officially speechless.
It took me a short while of staring into the incredible green hue of his eyes before I was able to find my tongue. Then, it took me a few more seconds to form words. “Well, it’s one thing, changing into the outfit, but it’s another to be seen in public with it on. If you really want to impress me, you need to get your butt downstairs and let the ass-groping begin.” I winked before sidestepping him to open the door.
Before I could exit, he grasped hold of my hand, and I turned to look at him. He had an impish smile on his face.
“Just for future reference, if you don’t want me to see your tatas”—he glanced down to my chest for a brief second—“you shouldn’t strip off where I have view of a mirror.”
My eyes widened at his admission, and I quickly spun around, trying to hide the blush creeping along my cheeks and chest. I exited the bathroom with Tyler following behind.
“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed. They are nice tatas.”
“Just nice?” I questioned, spinning back around to him.
The grin he wore on his face never faltered. He drew in closer until his face was only a couple of inches from me, making this moment and our positioning an intimate one.
“I was trying to be polite, but, no, they aren’t just nice; they’re fucking phenomenal.”
My breath got caught on an inhale, and my entire body spread with unbearable heat. I had to refrain from squeezing my legs together to ease the pressure I felt zoning down below.
“You’re right,” I began, trying not to give away how uneven my voice sounded as the lust consumed me. I feigned confidence. “They are fucking phenomenal.”
I pivoted on my feet and faced forward, heading toward the stairs, with Tyler following behind me.
The laughter soon followed as we made our way downstairs and headed in the direction of the kitchen as everyone took in Tyler. I spotted Alex in her Wonder Woman outfit and Matt in a Spider-Man costume at the breakfast bar with a couple of other guys both dressed as Indiana Jones, doing tequila shots.
I approached, and Alex immediately eyed me, her brows drawing inward and her forehead wrinkling with confusion when she noticed I was no longer in The Flash costume. “Hey, how come you’re wearing…” she began. I knew the minute she locked her gaze on Tyler as she whispered, “Oh my God,” and proceeded to start laughing. Snorting and everything.
I smirked as I grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted the cap open. I wasn’t touching any more of that pink shit.
Matt stopped mid sentence to Indiana Jones 1 and asked Alex, “What’s so funny?”
Alex had tears running down her face, gripping hold of the countertop as cackles erupted from her chest. “Tyler,” she managed to breathe in between her hysterics.
Matt glanced at Tyler, who had now approached them, and he cracked up. “Dude, what the fuck are you wearing?”
The kitchen began to fill with roars of laughs, all at the expense of the six-foot muscular guy dressed in a women’s red The Flash costume, posing the only way a superhero did—with his fists on his hips and his head held high. I leaned against the refrigerator, hiding my amusement behind my bottle of beer between taking small sips.
“What? Why’s everyone laughing? I thought this was a costume party?” he asked with mock seriousness. “Well, I’m wearing a costume,” he pointed out, a grin appearing on his face before it turned into a shit-eating smile. “But be warned, if anyone gropes my ass, I’m gonna kick all your asses!”
Matt shook his head before clapping his best friend on the shoulder. “The things you do just to get a chick out of her clothes, man.”
“Don’t you mean, out of her clothes and into mine?” he said suggestively, nodding his head in my direction.
I pursed my lips with humor, remembering what Tyler had said earlier about the whole T-shirt rule.
Matt sniggered.
A guy dressed as a Power Ranger bit against his knuckles with an exaggerated groan. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
More laughter erupted, and as the guys all joked around, Alex stood in front of me. “I see you’ve met Tyler, and I also see the glowing smile you’re wearing. It’s like you’ve had a personality transplant in the span of fifteen minutes.”
She was right about that. Fifteen minutes ago, I’d wanted to slaughter every guy I came into contact with, but now, I was struggling to remember why.
My smile only grew wider. I sidestepped from the refrigerator to let someone else open it.
“What can I say? He’s pretty charming.” I grinned around my beer bottle and then took another sip.
“Charming’s one way of describing him.”
“And what other ways would you describe me?” Tyler came up from behind Alex, suspicion in his voice.
Alex looked up at him, flashing him an innocent grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she replied with a wink.
She walked away, leaving Tyler and me alone. My heart raced as he took the bottle from my hand, brought it to his lips, and threw it back.
“Was that impressive enough for you?” he asked once he pulled the bottle away from his mouth.
“It was more than impressive.” I took in his attire and felt the tilt of my smile at how hideous he looked.
“Impressive enough to go on a date with me?”
I retrieved my bottle from his grasp and left him hanging by taking several gulps of my beer. I pointed to The Flash costume with the bottle. “Will you wear that?”
“I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.”
And, if tonight was any proof, there was no denying he would wear whatever I wanted. This guy was no chicken.
“Well, since you look like an experiment gone wrong”—I giggled—“I won’t make you wear that on our date. Jeans and a T-shirt will be more than acceptable.”
His eyes lit up with hope, like that of a five-year-old boy on Christmas morning. “Does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”
“Yes.”
As I blink back to the present, I realize my eyes are burning, and tears are streaming down my face. A sob whimpers from me, and I shift to my side and bury my face into a pillow, letting the sadness of the memory annihilate me.
It was only four years ago when he suddenly appeared in my life with his humor, shit-eating smile, and the ability to consume me. It’s hard to contemplate the possibility of ending a relationship with the boy who changed it all for me.
Within those first fifteen minutes of meeting him, I knew that he was the one.
It sounds ridiculous, even in my own head. Insta-love always seemed far-fetched until Cupid hit me with the arrow.
From that moment on, it was a whirlwind love.
One of a kind.
On our third date, he told me he loved me.
On our fourth date, I told him I loved him.
On our two-year anniversary, he asked me to marry him.
On our three-year anniversary, I married the love of my life.
On our fourth…
Well, nothing.
I spent it trying to forget I’d ever married him with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and a marathon of Grey’s Anatomy, which included a snotfest during—spoiler alert—the season they decided to kill off McDreamy.
This time last year, I was happily married.
Now, not so much.
Fuck.
How, in the space of a year, did our lives turn to shit?
I should be with my husband right now, preparing to give birth to our daughter.
Instead, I’m in the guest room of a house I no longer live in, sobbing into the pillow of a bedding set we were given as a wedding gift and wearing a T-shirt that signifies the beginning while trying to figure out what the hell my future holds.
I wish I could rewind time and go back to our lives when we were happily married, planning a family, planning a future. I wish we could live in the very world Tyler had described earlier. A life filled with children. A life filled with happiness.
There is nothing I want more.
I want to be wrapped up in humor, love, and the passion that makes up every inch of Tyler.
I want to be happy again.
I just don’t know what happiness involves anymore.
Or if Tyler even belongs in my life.
I just don’t know anything anymore…
Except for one thing.
That I’ll love Tyler until my last dying breath. And then some.