Page 28 of When I Was His

Love ya,

Sadie

It seemed it was just Ty and me for dinner then. Crumpling up the note, I gently shook Ty awake, his form stirring as consciousness slowly returned.

"Shit, did I fall asleep again?" Ty's voice was rough with sleep, his eyes blinking blearily as he took in his surroundings.

“So did I. Sadie isn’t here, so it’s just us for dinner. What do you want on your pizza? I’m starving.”

“Pepperoni and meatball.”

My mouth watered. “Mmm, that sounds good. Let me call Guiseppe’s around the corner. They deliver.”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

I pointed. “Down the hall, the middle door on the left.”

Ty rose from the couch with a lazy stretch, his yawn reverberating through the quiet apartment as he navigated the short hallway toward the bathroom. Seizing the opportunity, I quickly dialed the pizza place, placing an order while Ty was occupied.

By the time he emerged, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, the order was in. He reached for his wallet, and I intercepted him with a determined stance.

"You paid for lunch. This is my place, so I pay for dinner," I insisted firmly, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"I insist," Ty countered, his expression equally resolute.

"Tough. I'm paying," I declared, unwilling to back down.

Ty relented with a resigned sigh, and I slipped to my room to retrieve a twenty from my wallet. He was waiting in the doorway as I returned, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings of my room.

"Cute room. I like the comforter. You always did like blue," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words.

My room was a sanctuary of varying shades of blue, a reflection of my lifelong affinity for the calming hue, though the walls remained white per the landlord's decree.

"Thanks. Mom helped me pick out the bedroom stuff," I replied, a fond smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

As I passed through the doorway, Ty followed me into the kitchen, his presence comforting.

"What do you want to drink?" I inquired, turning to face him.

"I don't suppose you have any red stout in there," Ty replied with a playful grin, his eyes dancing with mischief.

I wrinkled my nose. "Absolutely not. If you're a regular visitor, I might consider it," I teased in response.

"I'd like to be," Ty replied, his voice soft with sincerity.

I could feel the warmth of his body beside me as I reached for two water bottles, preparing to set them on the small breakfast bar. But before I could react, I found myself enveloped in Ty's embrace, the drinks slipping from my fingers to thud against the counter. His lips met mine in a tender kiss, igniting a spark of familiarity that danced between us.

For a moment, I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But then I surrendered to the kiss, allowing myself to be swept away by the familiarity and warmth of Ty's touch. He was a great kisser, a fact I knew all too well from our shared history of adolescent experimentation.

He pulled me against him and stroked my partially bare back with his fingers. I was lost in the moment and ran my hands through his hair before I finally returned to reality and backed away.

Ty was apologetic. “I’m sorry. I really like you Ryleigh.”

I clenched my jaw. “We can’t.”

“Tell me, why not?” he demanded.

“Because you’re like my brother. I’ve known you my entire life.”

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