I placed my palm against his face, my face falling, tears filling my eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Tyler. The dripping will stop after a couple of rounds of antibiotics, and the itching will go away.”

Chelsea made a face, looked at Tyler in disgust, and then stumbled over her next words. “I’ll, um … be … I’ll be right back.”

Tyler looked at me, mouth hanging open.

Zeke chuckled. “She warned you.”

Sterling poked around on his plate, tuning us out.

Tyler glanced back at Chelsea, who was whispering to the other waitress and the cook. They were looking at our table, repulsed. “Wow. You just sunk my battleship, Ellie.”

I used my fork to cut into my omelet and took a bite, quite pleased with myself.

“Maybe I just want to be friends,” Tyler said.

“Guys like you can’t just be friends with someone who owns a vagina,” I said.

Zeke nodded. “She has a point.”

Tyler stood, gesturing for his crew to stand with him. They did, their chairs whining against the tile. “We got rid of all the idiots trashing your house last night, and this is the thanks I get?”

I smiled up at him. “Under the douchebag façade, you’re actually a nice guy. I was drunk last night, so my radar was a little off, but I can smell you from a mile away. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want to reminisce about that one-night stand we had that one time. I don’t have time for nice guys, Tyler, and I can’t imagine a more powerfully dirty hell than to be forced to spend time with you sober.”

He nodded to Sterling. “He looks like a nice guy to me.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I was being the meanest I knew how, and Tyler was acting like we were trading pleasantries. “Sterling is a self-loathing, wretched piece of shit.”

“She’s right,” Sterling said casually. “I am.”

Tyler’s team traded glances, and then Tyler watched me for a long time. “Enjoy your eggs.”

“Will do,” I said, making sure not to watch him leave.

Sterling waited a second or two before leaning in. “You must like him. I’ve never seen you so brutal.”

I waved him away. “He might be an overconfident prick, but he’s not a bad guy. He shouldn’t get mixed up with us.”

“True,” Sterling said, shoveling another bite into his mouth. He patted his mouth with his napkin, and then looked at me from under his manicured brows. “Since when are you accountable?”

“Oh, honey … I hope your day is as pleasant as you are.”

He chuckled quietly, and then took another bite.

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE