Page 10 of Christmas With A Billionaire

He nodded. “That was nice of him.”

We stared and he motioned for me to get in the passenger seat.

The drive to the restaurant passed in silence, thick with words we didn’t say. When we arrived, Tyson walked me to my car and opened my door.

“I’ll follow you home.”

I nodded and strapped my seatbelt across me.

At my apartment,Tyson caught my hand before I could escape inside.

“Was it a good date?” His voice was soft, dangerous. “Before the interruption?”

“Yes.” I met his eyes. “It was.”

“Good.” He released me. “You deserve good things, Autumn.” He turned to leave.

“Tyson.” He paused and faced me.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

He stared at me a long moment, then, “Never been better,” but he was holding back.

“You’ve never lied to me before, have you?”

His brows rose. “No.”

“Then why would you do it now?”

His nostrils flared, his eyes going dark as they combed over me. “Okay. I’m not fine. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, but it’s the truth, so I’d rather that than you lie. Tell me what I can do to help.”

He smirked, and I could see the flex in his jaw. But all he had to do was spit it out. Tell me how much he wanted me, wanted us—and I would give up the pretense right now, too. But the longer he held back, the more I knew what was coming next.

“It’s not your problem to fix, Autumn. It’s mine. And I’ll be fine. I want you to be in good hands, and if Marcus is your guy, then…” he nodded.

“For the record, I never said Marcus is “my guy,” it was just a date.”

He nodded again. “Okay.” His gaze fell from mine as he looked around the neighborhood and then back to me. “Do me a favor. If at any time you don’t feel safe with anyone, tell me.”

My eyes widened. “Tyson…”

“Please,” he begged.

A knot formed in my throat, and I nodded. “I will.” He stepped close, lifted my hand, and placed a kiss on the back.

“Have a good night.”

With that, he walked away, leaving my heart pounding and uncertain about our friendship.

Chapter 5

Tyson

We were supposed to meet at Pearl’s the next day, but I needed more time alone. Seven days passed since the incident at the Benefield Building. Seven days of drowning myself in meetings and photoshoots, signing contracts, and approving designs, anything to keep Autumn off my mind. The workaholic in me needed the distraction, but it wasn’t enough. The image of her in that black dress, standing at her door, asking me why I lied about being okay, played repeatedly in my head.

---