“It wasn’t a party,” he managed to croak in reply to her question, and she laughed, waving an airy hand of dismissal.
“You know what I mean, Ty. Your friends surprised you for your birthday, right?”
Chance was a fucking blabbermouth.
“It was okay,” he admitted. He was truly awkward when it came to talking about himself.
“Are you very close with your friends?”
“I don’t have close friends.”
Shit, he probably shouldn’t have said that. Not to this woman who accumulated new friends wherever she went. He was pretty sure that while Tedious Teddy’s romantic pursuit of her was over, the guy would remain in the picture as a friend for a while yet. Vicki attracted people. They were drawn to her bubbly personality, her warmth, her humor, her sweetness.
It was terrifying to be around a person like her. He had never met anyone like her before. It was safer to keep her at a distance, but Ty was like everyone else in her orbit, helplessly sucked in by her appealing warmth.
“Of course, you do,” she said, a frown marring her brow. “I got the impression that you and Brand are pretty close.”
“He’s my boss.”
“What about Chance?”
“He’s a colleague.”
“You do like pigeon-holing people, don’t you? Boss, colleague, client, principal. People can be more than one thing, you know? Look at Linda and Josh. They’re my employees, but they’re also my friends. Pete, he’s my friend, but he’s also my accountant. Bella is my best friend, my confidante, and my occasional stylist. She would also love to be my social secretary and my matchmaker, if I’d let her get away with it.” She shook her head with a wry chuckle and took another sip from her drink.
“That all sounds unbelievably…” He grimaced as he searched for the appropriate adjective, before settling on, “…messy. And complex.”
“And fun. And interesting. And life.”
His lips tightened as considered the chaos that surrounded this dynamo. Yeah, mostly good chaos, but it wasn’t anything he had ever wanted for his life. He liked to keep things uncomplicated. He didn’t allow people to get too close because that way it was easier to move on when they inevitably disappeared from his life. No messy emotions. Just moving forward without being bogged down by the emotional baggage that came with losing people you cared for.
Ty had been there. He’d done that.
He’d fucking burnt the t-shirt and buried it in the desert along with his lost friends and family. And he wasn’t about to dig it up and wear it again.
Not for anyone.
“What did you guys get up to?”
He brought his attention back to Vicki, pushing the ever-lurking darkness aside and focusing on the bright light sitting across the table from him.
“Had drinks, played poker…it was a good night.”
“I’m glad.” She meant it. He could see that. She was genuinely happy that Ty had had a good time with his colleagues last night.
He took a sip of his sparkling water to ease the dryness in his throat.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” She winced seconds after she asked the question and wrinkled her nose regretfully. “I’m sorry. That’s probably off limits.”
“Uh…no, it’s okay. I had a brother. He was seven years older than me. He died in a motorcycle accident when he was twenty.”
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”
He shifted uncomfortably, not sure why he’d revealed the information to her. It wasn’t something most people knew about him.
“He was my hero,” Ty heard himself admitting.
It was horrible, how helplessly compelled he felt to confess these private things to her. He hated it. But at the same time…he truly loved it. Loved talking about Tanner—acknowledging his existence—when he hadn’t spoken of his brother in literal years. “His name was Tanner. He used to carry me on his shoulders when I was a kid. Despite the age gap between us, he still took the time to play with me and hang out with me. I pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on.”
Her small hand was on his. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he became aware of the soft stroke of her thumb across his knuckles, and he was grateful for it. It made him feel grounded.
She didn’t say a word, but allowed him to speak uninterrupted about Tanner, and for a few wonderful moments, his brother’s memory, which—with only Ty left to remember him—had been tainted with sadness and regret, was bright and joyful again. It was hard to recall the good times when you had no one with whom to share them.
“I can’t believe he let you drive it,” she laughed, in response to a story Ty told about Tanner sneaking their dad’s truck out once when he was sixteen and Ty nine.
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t,” Ty said on a chuckle. “He could be a bit crazy, but he wasn’t reckless. He had me on his lap, and my hands were on the wheel, but his were right there next to mine. He still got into deep shit when Dad found out about it though.”