A Betting Man

Chapter Twenty

Adelaide's Point of View

Tyler holds a very pretty bouquet of orchids and lilies in his right hand. I remember once telling him that I liked orchids, long ago, and I'm surprised that he remembers.

But now he's nearly crushed them all in his death grip. They appear to wither beneath the pressure.

I keep my tone steady as I work to diffuse the situation. "Tyler, what are you doing here?"

His gaze moves from Justin to me. "I came to see you, obviously. But I guess I came at a bad time."

Justin frowns and looks at the floor. What a cluster fuck this has suddenly become.

"Can I speak to you outside?" I hiss at Tyler.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" he says instead, and I want to fall on the floor and die at the absurdity of the question.

But Justin looks at me expectantly and I feel outnumbered.

I glare at Tyler. "Justin, this is Tyler. A friend of mine. Tyler, Justin."

They don't shake hands or greet each other with friendliness. They don't really acknowledge each other at all.

"Care if I put this in the refrigerator?" Tyler holds up the wine for both of us to see, then sweeps past me before I can protest. "It really needs to be chilled. I had a long drive over so I'm sure it's kind of warm by now--"

Justin looks uncomfortable, among other things. I'm sure my face matches the red of Tyler's parka.

"Tyler? Outside?" I interrupt, trying again.

"I can just go," Justin suddenly offers. Tyler looks more than pleased at the idea.

"No, I'd rather you didn't." This time, I can't keep the hard edge out of my tone. I'm unbelievably annoyed by this. "Tyler? Outside?"

He reluctantly nods and steps out the door. Justin's eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second as I slide past him, but it's impossible to catch the emotion contained there.

The hallway is quiet. All I can hear is the pounding of my heart and the adrenaline coursing through my veins at this sudden confrontation. The flower wrapper crinkles as Tyler lets his arm fall to his side.

Not wanting to disturb my neighbors, I keep my voice low.

"What in the world are you doing here?" I ask him.

Tyler looks up at me, surprised. "I was trying to surprise you," he mumbles.

That seems pretty obvious. I think. But I'm still irritated.

"A phone call would have been nice. I have company, Tyler." I say this with much exasperation, hoping to convey how utterly piqued I am.

His eyes flash as he looks at me. "Yeah, I heard about him."

I gasp. Holy fuck. Does he know about the bet?

My next words are low and carry a threatening edge. "What are you talking about?" If he knows about the bet, I may have to murder him right here in the hallway. And neither of us wants that.

He begins shifting around, swaying and taking small steps, unable to hold still. "I talked to Fey."

I gasp again. Oh Holy Father, please have mercy on my friend's spirit, for she is about to die. My mind begins racing frantically. I've never felt so... betrayed. And by my best friend, no less. Telling Cayden is one thing. Telling Tyler is just too much.