Page 44 of The Path To Us

I press my lips together and nod. I know why Tyson’s texting me. He’s never hid the fact that he wants me for more than a friend. But I don’t feel the same way. Because I couldn’t feel that way toward anyone but Beau. Sure, I’ve dated other guys but Tyson is Beau’s best friend. I just… can’t.

“Yeah. Why? We’re friends, remember?” I tell him, throwing his words back at him.

He does a crappy job of hiding his glare. “Do you…” he clears his throat and sits up, “do you like him?”

I shrug. “Do you like Lizzy?”

The oven beeps to let me know it’s warmed up and I jump out of my chair so fast, it falls backward. I don’t want him to tell me he likes Lizzy. I can already see it in his eyes and the way he lights up around her. It’s the same way I light up around him, on the inside, of course.

Once the pizza rolls are in the oven, I sit down at the table and distract myself with homework. My phone alerts me with another text and I slide open my phone.

Tyson: Where’d you go? Still doing homework?

I glance up at Beau to see him trying his best not to peek at my phone.

Me: Yeah.

Tyson: So, can I? Stop by? I have homework, too, and I promise not to distract you. ;)

Me: Beau’s here, too. Sure.

Tyson: Cool. Lizzy’s with me. We’ll be there in a few. Got food? I’m starved.

I roll my eyes. How do I tell him that I don’t want Lizzy here? If Beau wasn’t here, I wouldn’t mind, but I know exactly what will happen. Having Lizzy and Beau for best friends means I know both of them too well. Lizzy will beg Beau to take her home and he’ll quickly agree. Partly because he’s a nice guy and partly because he likes her more than he wants to admit.

Then I’ll be left alone with Tyson and he’ll flirt with me like it’s his job.

My mom will come home from the flower shop and he’ll charm her into letting him stay for dinner because his parents are always gone and he never gets a home cooked meal.

And then he’ll ask me to go get ice cream because he can’t go a day without a few scoops of cookie dough ice cream. Mom will tell me to go ahead because she loves Tyson and agrees with his ice cream addiction.

Me: I’ll make some more pizza rolls.

Tyson: I knew you loved me! Be there in a minute.

“Lizzy and Tyson are coming over.”

“Why?”

I look up at him but keep my face pointed down toward the table. “He asked if he could come, I said sure. He said Lizzy was with him.”

I stand up and get another bag of pizza rolls out of the freezer and put them on another tray and slide them in under the others. I know they’ll blow through most of them and Lizzy and I will barely get any.

“What are you doing?”

I look at him over my shoulder, his arm is draped over the back of the kitchen chair.

“What does it look like?”

“I’m not that hungry. Are you?”

“No, but Tyson’s coming. One tray won’t be enough.”

“You’re making him food now?” he asks, snark, and possibly a little anger, in his voice.

What is he talking about and why is he ticked off? There’s no way he can be throwing a fit over the fact that I’m making Tyson some frozen food when I just did the same for him! Both are my friends!

“Why are you so crabby?”

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