Page 68 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

z-value

Zoya

I look at my phone for the tenth time. Where’s Irina?

I’m sitting at our favorite lunch spot near campus, where she said she would meet me after class. I’ve called and texted and she hasn’t responded, which is unlike her. There was a hockey game last night—I know she went. Maybe she went out drinking after?

I won’t lie. I stayed in studying, but I probably spent a third of my time fretting over the thought of Irina going out with Tyler after the game. Now, sitting here alone with my sister missing in action, I wonder if she went home with him. I am really wondering if they slept together.

It would serve me right if they did. I could have had him, but I put him back in the friend zone. It’s my actions that led to this, so I can only blame myself if my sister slept with the guy I might be falling in love with, right?

They are both consenting adults. It’s not fair of me to push him away and then expect him not to want other women.

Honestly, I shouldn’t get worked up about this because he’s not long-term relationship material anyway.

We might have had fun once or twice, but he will never settle down.

It wouldn’t have lasted. Besides, Tyler is my friend only—I told him we shouldn’t be more. He can sleep with anyone he wants.

Still, it’s not like Irina to ignore my calls and texts, so I worry as I order a cup of soup, pulling out my biology book to study while I wait.

When that becomes pointless, I give up and head to class, Jay taking his seat next to mine as usual.

We have been hanging out just as friends.

I’m not interested in having a boyfriend or dating anyone right now.

I told Jay I want his friendship, but needed to focus on my grades this semester, and he understood.

“You look worried,” he says, pushing his thumb against the lines creasing between my eyes.

“I can’t reach my sister. We were supposed to meet for lunch, but she didn’t show, and isn’t answering my texts or calls.”

“Did she go out last night?”

“I think she may have gone with the hockey crowd to the game. Perhaps to watch Tyler?”

“Maybe she slept over somewhere and her phone died?”

“Maybe. It’s probably that. Perhaps she slept at Tyler’s…”

I trail off, flipping through my notebook, starting to doodle as the professor gives instructions for the midterm.

“And you’re not okay with them sleeping together?”

“I’m okay with it.”

“Have you changed your mind about him? I thought you said friend zone only. No dating hockey players, blah, blah, blah.”

“I haven’t changed my mind, Jay.”

“Have you changed your mind about me?” he asks slyly.

I look up and he wiggles his eyebrows, giving me a wide, silly grin.

“No. Absolutely not.” I stifle a giggle. “You are stupid.”

“I’m not stupid,” he answers, mock-hurt. “And to prove it, I’m going to read your mind. You like this Tyler, even though you don’t want to. Maybe more than friends, and definitely enough that you feel resentful of your sister maybe sleeping with him.”

I start a little, looking back at him. “Wow. That was…oddly accurate. Though I’ll deny I ever said it if you repeat it.”

He punches me lightly on the arm as the test bundle gets passed down our row. “I am a genius at reading women.”

“You need to be a genius at reading biology,” I tell him.

“Don’t be jealous of my mad skills. Also, and I’m being serious here, you need to be honest about your feelings. If not with me, at least with yourself. This shit can get messy. If you care about him, you should tell him.”

I look at my phone and realize I was supposed to meet Tyler for statistics tutoring.

My stomach flips, butterflies invading as I walk to the coffee shop.

I half expect he won’t show up—partially because Irina didn’t this morning, and partially because of the way I left things with him the last time I saw him.

I swing open the glass door and scan the space, nearly breaking into tears when I see him, his back to the door, sitting across from Logan and Haley, who are happily munching cookies and drinking smoothies.

Tyler turns, almost as if he has radar, and gives me a heartbreakingly wide smile when he sees me. He stands and I’m in his strong arms, hugging him and breathing in his delicious clean scent before I even have a conscious thought about it.

“Hey, Smokeshow,” he says, his chin resting on my head. “Good to see you, too.”

I take a seat between the kids, and they start babbling about their experience in Vegas so far. They tell me about the hockey game, about playing video games with Georg.

“Georg is my big brother; did you know that?” I smile at them, happy to just be with all of them again. I’ve missed them all so much.

“I love him!” Logan yells. “He playeded video games with me.”

“Played, Logan, not playeded,” Tyler corrects.

“Georg,” Logan says with a giggle.

Tyler looks at me and shakes his head. “He won’t stop talking about Georg. It’s like he’s found his soulmate or something.”

“That is scary.”

“Right?”

I pull out my book, but the effort is futile.

It’s been nine days since I’ve seen Tyler, and every time I look at him, he steals my breath.

And his little charges? I simply cannot believe the life and happiness in their eyes.

They were so guarded and quiet when I first met them, yet now, after such a short time with their big brother, they are completely different.

Seems like Ty has that effect on every person he meets. Which makes staying away even harder.

After thirty minutes of not even opening a book, Tyler says, “Sorry, Zo. Guess the kids have missed you too much. Do you want to come over and study at my place? I can call for Chinese takeout?”

“Sounds great,” I say, happy to see we are okay, that he doesn’t want to avoid me now after I friend-zoned him for a second time.

I’m just as happy to see him when he opens the door to his apartment as I was when I saw him at the coffee shop earlier.

“We should be good for at least an hour. The kids are watching a movie,” he says after inviting me in.

He’s looking incredibly delicious in ripped jeans and a black Crush T-shirt.

His cropped blond hair slightly damp from the shower, the fresh scent of soap or body wash, or whatever addicting elixir it creates when mixed with him, floats up my nose.

I’m doomed to failure . . . I just know it.

How can I concentrate on stats with him looking and smelling this good?

"Thanks for doing this, Tyler."

"I told you, any time, Smokeshow. You need help with stats, I am your guy."

I wish you were my guy.

Getting to work, I spread out my laptop and notebook. “Now, I’m having issues with the codebook dialogue,” I say opening my project program on my laptop.

Tyler shifts his body closer next to mine, glancing over the tables. “Did you choose your variables of interest then run them from the procedure dialogue? Usually they have the same basic components,” he shares assuredly.

“Okay, done. Next, I have a problem with the population parameter,” I say getting anxious.

“What’s your concern?"

“My margin of error seems low.”

“The Z-value?” Tyler asks. He leans over me again, his masculine scent temporarily distracting me again, though I catch myself and refocus on the data table before he can notice.

“Yes.”

“We need to add in your number of standard errors to measure the Z-value accurately. There, fixed it for you,” he declares, hands tapping over my keyboard.

“So, I will achieve my desired confidence level?” I say, thinking about my own inner desires about him.

“Yeah. Your percentage confidence should be right where you want it.” Tyler says it while looking deeply into my eyes.

“Okay, now let’s go on to the analysis,” I say, quickly clicking through the program tabs before I succumb and kiss him again.

Ten minutes later.

“What if a relationship exists between the variables in the real world, but your test found no significant relationship?” He quizzes me in preparation for my project presentation.

The words “relationship” and “real world” hanging in the air, heavy with implication.

I wonder if he hears those words as loudly as I do?

“I would be making a false negative error?” I ask, unable to stop staring at his chiseled jawline, or keep my heart from melting.

“Right, you’d think it doesn’t occur, when in fact, it does.”

The implications are not lost on either of us, as we keep staring intently into each other’s eyes.

Almost on the hour, the kids enter and announce they are hungry, so Tyler calls for takeout. We sit at the table together for the meal, the kids again talking up a storm. When he tells them it’s time to start getting ready for bed, he looks at me, but I don’t know how to read his expression.

“Are you okay? You have a weird look on your face.”

“I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head like he’s trying to shake away a thought.

“Well, for what it is worth, I appreciate your technical assistance. Even just a little time with you, and I feel completely prepared for my stats project presentation. You are a terrific tutor. And, as it turns out, a pretty good dad-brother, too.”

“I just want to be a regular brother,” he says glumly.

“Well, they need more right now. And they are happy, so I think you’ve been nailing it.”

He grins, almost shyly. “Well, I have learned one thing. I am definitely not ready to be a real dad yet. Not by a long shot. Someday, maybe—which is a huge change of tune for me—but not right now. It’s a lot of work. A lot of lifestyle adjustment.”

“Well, a break from your recent lifestyle might have been a good thing,” I say with a shrug.