Page 74 of There's No Us Without You
Will is yet to acknowledge me—or his brother—as he storms into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He slams the door shut, the rattle of glass bottles smashing into each other the only sound echoing in the uncomfortable silence.
As he twists the top off the bottle, his face remains expressionless except for the tightening of his jaw. The air in the room, however, changes immediately, the heaviness settling on my skin like the humidity of a hot day.
This isn’t good.
There’s every possibility that neither me nor Tyler will be alive by the time Emerson arrives home.
Tyler smooths the front of his shirt and flashes me a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then he climbs to his feet and heads towards the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, bro,” he says, pausing on the other side of the island.
“Why are you here?” Will presses a hip against the granite and takes a mouthful of water before screwing the cap back on the bottle.
He hasn’t blinked in at least thirty seconds, and if I had better sense, I’d leave them to talk amongst themselves. But, I don’t have better sense... obviously. Besides, I doubt I’d be able to move even if I wanted to.
Tyler lifts a shoulder. “You didn’t really give me a choice. You won’t answer my calls or messages. You also refused to see me when I showed up at the bar.”
While keeping his deathly focus on his brother, Will pulls his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and flips it open. “How much do you need this time?” He throws a bunch of fifty-dollar bills on the island.
With a quick glance over his shoulder at me, Tyler swallows hard before turning back to Will. “Jesus, man. I’m not here for money.”
Will scoffs. “That’s a first.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Tyler shifts on his feet, rubbing his hands on the sides of his thighs. “Give me a break. I’m clean, I promise.”
“How many times have I heard that?” Will narrows his eyes, nostrils flaring.
For a long moment there’s just heated silence, each man daring the other to make the next move. But then Tyler sighs and leans over the island. “Listen, can we not do this now?” he says, lowering his voice as he nods in my direction.
Jesus, it’s like watching a car crash—I can’t tear my eyes away from it.
With a quick glance in my direction, Will shoves all the notes back into his wallet. “Fine. Hungry?”
Tyler’s shoulders relax as though he’s just let out a huge breath, and he sinks onto a stool.
“I can make pizza,” I say, pushing to my feet. “I already have the ingredients for the base, so I just need the toppings.”
My need to calm this situation is flooding my blood. I also don’t want to get in between two brothers, so I’ll do what I do best and make people happy with food. It’s the only thing I know how to do.
“After those brownies,” Tyler says with a wink. “I’m all in. I’ll help, but first I need to take a leak.” He jumps from the stool and disappears down the hall.
Okay . . . so Tyler has obviously been here before if he knows where the bathroom is. How long has it actually been since he spoke to Will? And why did they stop speaking in the first place?
I’d ask Will, but with the way he’s glaring at me right now, I think better of it and start collecting items I need to make the pizza base.
“Send me a list,” Will finally says after a few long seconds of me trying to avoid his dark glare. “Emerson should be home soon.”
“I’ll text you,” I say as I snatch my phone from the kitchen bench, type out the toppings, and hit send.
His phone dings, so he pulls it out of his pocket and taps the screen. There’s only silence as he runs his eyes over the list until he grunts. “Pineapple? Seriously?”
An eyebrow raised, I slide past him to grab the yeast from the fridge. “Is the big scary man afraid of a little pineapple?” I say, pouting as I bat my eyelashes as best I can, and set the container down.
Will narrows his eyes and steps closer until I’m backed into the corner of the kitchen. The edge of the granite digs into my lower back, and I have to swallow down the lump in my throat at Will’s proximity.
“Are you making fun of me?” he says, using the tip of his pointer finger to tilt my chin up.
The scent of his spicy cologne sends a shiver up my spine, and his body heat is almost palpable. There’s something calling to me behind those dark-blue eyes.
Something tortured.
