Deal With It

forty eight

I shook my head. "No, it's nothing," I tightened my hold on him. He seemed to do the same.

"It didn't seem like nothing," he replied. He placed his hands on my shoulders and put some space between us, then held my face in his hands. "Talk to me," he said, making direct eye contact with me.

"I should clean this up before one of us gets hurt," I glanced at the broken glass surrounding us. I kneeled down and began picking up the pieces whilst Tyler helped, putting them on the table so I could take them to throw away together. He didn't push me to answer him, probably because he knew I wouldn't, and I was grateful for that. "Shit!" I cussed when I pricked my index finger on the edge of some glass. A spot of blood appeared at the tip of my finger and Tyler quickly grabbed my hand.

"Are you alright?" He panicked.

"I'm fine," I pulled my hand away. He wouldn't listen and took hold of it again. This time I forcefully released it. "I'm okay! Seriously, you can handle a burnt arm and a bullet but I can't even take a little cut?" I snapped.

Quickly, I went to the kitchen and opened the tap, placing my finger beneath the running cold water. The sting I felt instantly found relief. I found a bunch of plasters in a drawer and wrapped one around the cut to prevent anymore bleeding. All the while, Tyler watched me closely and quietly. "What?"

He was slouching against the wall, arms crossed. "Why do you fight with me so much?" He asked, his face serious. I gulped, feeling crushed by a mountain of guilt.

"I don't," I muttered, trying to walk straight past him except he caught my arm, pulling me back. He walked round and stood in front of me. "I'm really tired, let me go," I told him.

"Not until you answer me," he walked forward and helplessly I walked back, not wanting him to step on my toes. Soon enough, my back met the wall and he had me trapped in his very own cage. "Have I done something?" He looked worried, making me feel like a total bitch. I was being so selfish; hiding the truth to save our relationship but arguing with him because Daniel was becoming more attached to me— or was he? I could have been wrongly interpreting all his actions but knowing he liked me didn't help. He placed two fingers beneath my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. "If I have, I promise I'll fix it," he said sincerely.

"You haven't done anything," I whispered, unable to raise my voice. "I just feel stressed a lot," I was slowly building up the courage to finally tell him the truth when he leaned forward and connected his lips to mine, that one kiss filled with so much passion and desire, it took my breath away.

"I want you so bad," he said when he took a momentary pause. I realised it was because we hadn't been very intimate over the last two to three weeks. It wasn't that I didn't want to, because I really did, but I just felt angry all the time.

I pushed him back a little and his lips left my neck. "Tyler, wait."

"It's fine if you don't want to—"

"It isn't that," I stopped him. "It definitely isn't that," I said, making him smirk. I tried to figure out how to say this. 'By the way, Tyler. I kind of kissed and grinded on Daniel which gave him a hard-on whilst you were in a coma. Forgive me,' didn't seem like the brightest of ideas.

"Okay," he said, holding up his hands. "You told me the truth so now I should say what's on my mind." This caught my attention and I was instantly intrigued. "I was told something a few days ago and I think it's time to tell you," he began, taking a deep breath. "Remember when you persuaded me to accept my dad's help? Well, I did," he paused, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as pure excitement radiated on his face. "And I got in!" He exclaimed, wrapping his arms behind my thighs and lifting me into the air.