Rose’s aggressive tone was familiar. It was the one she used when she got caught doing something she shouldn’t and wanted to steer the attention away from herself. She was so busted. Tyler didn’t really care if she’d tried to hack his phone. Try as she might, his password was an alphanumeric nightmare, and he was sure not even the CIA would be able to crack it. One bad experience with an above-average tech-savvy girlfriend had been enough to force Tyler to up his security.
Still, what business did Rose have nosing around his things? Usually, it was hysterical girlfriends who tried to hack him, not his best friend. He kept no secrets with Rose. Well, except maybe his constant arguments about her with Georgiana. Rose had never been BFF with any of his previous girlfriends, but with Georgiana, it had been hate at first sight. On both sides. Had Rose sensed she’d been the reason for their argument? But if she wanted to know, all she had to do was ask.
Tyler was planning a way to make her confess when she stood up, and he saw what she was wearing—or rather how much she wasn’t. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. He was used to seeing his best friend in faded loose T-shirts three or four sizes too big for her. Not in mini shorts. Definitely not in mini shorts.
Rose must have noticed his staring because she blushed bright red. Yet, she didn’t lower her gaze or rush off. Weird. Regular Rose was so shy and reserved. So much so that in the six months they’d been living together, she’d never shown more skin than that on her ankles. When she showered, she brought her clothes in the bathroom and came out already changed. He’d never even seen her in a towel. Even when she did the wash, she planted herself outside of the tiny laundry room like a watchdog. She said she didn’t want him to see her underwear because it embarrassed her. So her standing there half-naked and bold was seriously freaking him out.
Frozen, Tyler watched her walk toward him.
“Anyway, Georgiana says she’s sorry,” Rose said, brushing past him as she continued toward the stairs. “And before you ask, no—I didn’t spy. The message popped up on the screen.”
Tyler followed her, not quite able to tear his eyes from her derrière as she climbed the stairs. He was shocked into silence. Seeing her like this was like being slapped in the face. He hadn’t tried to sleep with her, sober or drunk, for how long now? Two years. Not since she’d been with Marcus, not since her last fierce refusal of his advances. That night he’d been drunk and came on to her hard. Her “no” had been equally strong, worse than an ice shower. Sobered up by her rejection, he’d never been tempted to try again. Call it a strong reality check. To him, it had become clear she wasn’t interested. So Tyler had set his mind on being her friend, just a friend.
His reaction to her lack of clothes was a dead giveaway that he’d been kidding himself. He collapsed onto the living room couch, taking a few minutes to steady himself and reboot his brain. He’d always thought Rose was beautiful, but he’d never considered her sexy. Yet today, her outfit combined with her defiant attitude made her irresistible. He needed to know what was going on to make her act so strangely. As if pulled by an invisible rope, Tyler got to his feet and followed Rose up the stairs.
His phone remained forgotten and lonely on the kitchen table, Georgiana’s face surfacing on the screen yet again.
***
At the top of the stairs, Tyler looked toward Rose’s room. She’d left the door half-open. Was it an invitation?
He approached, padding quietly across the carpet, and peeked inside. Rose was lying on the bed, propped on a mound of pillows with her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She was playing with her phone. To his delight, she hadn’t changed, or put on a sweater. His Rose, after being caught in mini shorts, would be covered head-to-toe by now. Something was definitely up with her.
Tyler knocked on the door and stepped inside without waiting for permission.
“Oh,” she said, surprised. “I thought you’d be downstairs making peace with Georgiana.”
“What’s up with the shorts?” he asked.
She looked down at herself. “I was behind with my laundry, and this was the only clean set left.”
“Weren’t you against Victoria’s Secret and their objectification of women?” Tyler retorted.
“I didn’t buy them.” Rose shrugged. “They were a present from Marcus.”
She said it casually, but he knew her well. He could detect the lingering sadness hidden behind that simple response. As a loyal friend, he ought to feel sorry for the abrupt way her relationship with Marcus had ended. Instead, Tyler couldn’t help but be relieved that Marcus had moved to LA and out of their lives for good. But now a new emotion had entered the mix—a fierce jealousy he’d never experienced before. He was jealous that Rose would wear something so not like herself for Marcus.
Tyler sat on the bed next to her. He took her right foot into his left hand, placed it in his lap, and started massaging her ankle. Time to switch on the charm and make Rose talk.