Page 15 of Be With Me

Chapter 6

Ailee

Later that night, after Stef and I checked out her cover shot and shared a glass of wine back at my apartment, I turned my cell back on.

Six missed calls. Holy hell, what had I gotten myself into?

Enough was enough. Without overthinking it—for once—I hit the call back button. He answered after the first ring.

“Ailee. Fucking finally.”

He sounded so relieved, my red flags wavered and lowered to about half mast. Maybe something had happened. An emergency. An alien invasion, perhaps. “Hi, Tyler.”

“I’m sorry for blowing up your phone. But I’d really like to see you. I need to see you.”

The flags inched back up a foot or two. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to hold fast with my decision. “I don’t think so, Tyler.”

There was silence on the other line. “Ailee…”

“I just…this isn’t going to work, Tyler. Besides, you have a girlfriend.” This all came out in a hasty rush. I held my breath, waiting for his response. It was stupid of me, really, to hope he would tell me I was wrong. Whatever he said, whatever excuses he came up with, it wouldn’t make a difference either way. It was just…his having a girlfriend would make all of this easier. I’m not that woman. As a rule, I don’t date men who aren’t available. Ever.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Ailee.” His response was firm, but he didn’t sound surprised that I’d said it. “Willow is my sister. We hang out. A lot. And people assume she’s my girlfriend.” He laughed. “Trust me, she’s the farthest thing from it, but it comes in handy sometimes for people to think that.”

My mouth dropped open. Her name was actually Willow? Wait until I tell Stef! But first, back to the current conversation. “It wouldn’t matter, really. That’s not the reason I’m calling this off. Whatever this is.”

“Ailee, I just want to see you. Tonight.” He sounded frustrated. “Please. We can just get a beer.” He paused. “Or maybe some coffee would be better.”

I frowned at my empty wineglass. Why did I feel like I was missing something?

“Please, Ailee.” He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, his tone was assuredly lighter. “It’s Friday night. Come hang out with me. Just for a while. And after the night is through and we’ve had a chance to talk, if you still don’t want to see me again, I’ll respect your decision. I swear.”

Stay firm, girl. Stay firm.“I really can’t. I have an early shoot tomorrow.” Rolling my eyes at myself before I even uttered the words, I said, “How about tomorrow night?”

“Um, tomorrow might not work for me. I have a thing I’m supposed to do. Just…meet me at the coffee shop by your studio. I promise I’ll have you home at a decent hour.”

I was a masochist. That was the only explanation for the words about to come out of my mouth. “Fine. Okay. Give me thirty minutes.”

“Great.” I could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you. I’ll see you there.”

After he hung up, I stood there staring at my phone. What the hell had I just agreed to? And what happened to all of the decisiveness I’d felt while talking to Stef? I groaned, then went to the bathroom to check my appearance. Coffee. That’s all. Just coffee and conversation. He couldn’t talk me out of my clothes in the middle of Maggie’s Espresso.

Besides, he’d probably disappear again before anything could happen.

* * *

Tyler was waitingfor me when I arrived thirty-five minutes later. He was staring at the empty chair on the other side of the table, one leg bouncing up and down as his fingers tapped a rapid staccato on the wooden top. He looked as nervous as I felt, but he stood and smiled when I walked up the table, all of the tension leaving his body in a long exhale. And he was once again the cool, calm, and collected guy I was used to. “You’re here.”

“Hey, Tyler.”

“Hey,” he said softly. “What would you like to drink?”

“I can get it.” I started to turn away, to walk to the counter. Or, perhaps, back out the door.

“No, please. Let me. I dragged you out of your house at this ungodly hour to come meet up with me. The least I can do is buy your coffee.” His eyes twinkled with humor.

I caved. “A caramel latte with soy milk. Decaf, please.”

“You got it.”

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