Chapter 46 I Have to Sleep Early
Maggie’s mouth twitched. A reluctant half-smile curved her lips even as she rolled her eyes. “Alright,” she said louder. “I’ve not forgiven you. I’m only letting you in because of the flowers. That’s all.”
She twisted the deadbolt. Pulled the door open.
Tyler’s smile bloomed— eyes crinkling, shoulders easing. “Hey, babe. I’ve missed you.” He extended the roses.
Maggie took them. Brought them to her nose— inhaled. Sweet, heavy. “Well, I’ve not missed you,” she said, but the sharpness had dulled.
Tyler leaned in— quick— to kiss her cheek. She stepped back half a pace.
“Like I said,” she repeated, quieter, “not yet forgiven.”
She turned and walked back toward the kitchen, roses dangling from her fingers. Tyler followed, closing the door with a soft click.
“I’m really sorry, babe,” he said, matching her stride. “I know I fucked up. Won’t happen again. Promise.”
“You kissed a girl right in front of me, Tyler.”
“It was a dare.” Defensive now. “You know that.”
“What about the other times you've done it?” She didn’t look back.
Silence from him— thick, guilty.
They reached the kitchen. The air still smelled of cumin and lime. The tray of tacos sat steaming under the towel.
Tyler inhaled deeply. “Smells good in here. Are those tacos?”
Maggie glanced over her shoulder— first real look at him since the door. “Yes. I just made them.”
“I love tacos. They're my favorite. You know that, right?” His grin returned, brighter. “Did you make them because of me?”
“Boy.” She snorted softly. “I made them for myself.”
She set the roses beside the vase, reached for another taco.
Tyler’s hand darted out— snagged one before she could protest.
“Drop it,” she said, but her mouth curved.
Too late. He bit in— huge, shameless. Eyes rolled back. “Fuck. This really tastes good.”
“You can say it again.”
“It really does.”
They stood on opposite sides of the island— him devouring, her eating slowly— watching each other over the food.
Tyler swallowed. Wiped his mouth. “So… plans tonight?”
“Study. Netflix. Sleep.”
“Let’s go out.”
“Go out?” One brow arched. “Where?”
“It's a surprise.”
She opened her mouth.
“Pleassssss,” he drew out, head tilted, full charm offensive.
Maggie stared. Took a long breath— chest rising under the robe. Exhaled.
“Okay,” she said. “I hear you.”
Tyler’s face lit— eyes wide, grin splitting. “Really?”
“Really.” She set her taco down. “But I’m still not forgiving you. Tacos and we go out. That’s it.”
“That’s all I need.” He stepped closer— careful. “Thank you, Mags.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” She picked up another taco, held it between them like a boundary. “Probation. One wrong move…”
“Understood.” He nodded— solemn now. “I won’t screw it up.”
She studied him— searching. Then turned toward the hallway. “Twenty minutes. Shower. Stay here. No following.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“Still counts.”
Maggie shook her head— half-laugh— and disappeared down the corridor.
Tyler leaned on the island. Stared at the roses, the empty tray, the city lights flickering on below.
“Don’t screw this up,” he whispered to the empty kitchen.
The scent of cumin lingered— warm, forgiving.
For now.
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'HOURS LATER – INSIDE TYLER’S CAR, ON A STREET IN WASHINGTON, D.C'
The blue 2016 BMW X5 glided through the quiet arteries of Washington, D.C., at 9:14 p.m., its headlights slicing clean white paths across rain-slicked asphalt. Streetlamps cast long, liquid-gold reflections that danced across the hood every time Tyler eased off the accelerator. The cabin smelled faintly of buttered popcorn from the movie theater and the subtle cedarwood of Tyler’s cologne. Soft R&B pulsed low from the speakers— Beyonce's voice curling around the edges of the silence like smoke.
Maggie reclined in the passenger seat, head tipped back against the cool leather headrest, silk robe swapped hours ago for dark jeans and a fitted cream sweater. Her bare feet— shoes kicked off onto the floor mat— curled against the edge of the seat. A small, contented smile played at the corners of her mouth as she watched the city blur past: marble monuments glowing under spotlights, the dome of the Capitol rising briefly in the distance like a pale moon.
“I really needed this,” she said, voice soft, almost surprised at her own admission. She stretched her arms overhead, fingers brushing the roof liner, then let them drop into her lap.
Tyler’s eyes stayed on the road, but the smile that tugged his lips was instant— wide, boyish, triumphant. “I know you do.” He flicked the turn signal; the soft click-click filled the pause. “I also needed it. Thanks for accepting to come out with me.”
Maggie rolled her head toward him, ponytail sliding across her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I haven’t forgiven you. Even at this. Don’t think for a second that I’ve forgiven you because I went out with you.”
Tyler’s gaze darted sideways— just long enough to catch her expression— then snapped back to the road. His smile widened into something dangerously confident, teeth flashing in the glow of the dashboard. “I know you have.”
“Excuse me?” Maggie laughed— short, surprised, hand flying to cover her mouth as though she could trap the sound.
“You heard me, mama.” He drummed his fingers once on the steering wheel, casual, cocky.
She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You see the way you held onto my hand at the movies?” Tyler pressed on, voice dropping into that teasing drawl he knew got under her skin. “An angry you wouldn’t have done that.”
Maggie snorted. “I only did because we were watching a scary movie. The one you insisted we watch, even though you knew I get scared easily. You were the only safe thing next to me, so I clung. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Uh-huh.” Tyler drew the sound out, skeptical. “Either way, I win.”
The traffic light ahead flipped red. He eased the brake; the car settled with a gentle rock. Silence wrapped around them for three heartbeats— only the low thrum of the engine and the faint hiss of tires on wet pavement from the cross street.
Maggie turned fully toward him now, one elbow on the center console, chin in her palm. “You’re really pushing your luck.”
“Am I?” He met her eyes— brief, electric— then looked forward again as the light turned green. He pressed the accelerator smoothly; the X5 surged forward with a quiet growl.
He took the next right without signaling first.
Maggie sat up straighter. “You made the wrong turn, dumb ass.”
Tyler’s grin flashed white in the dark. “I didn’t. We’re not heading home just yet. I have one more surprise.”
“What?” The word came out half-breath, half-laugh. She twisted in the seat to face him fully. “You do know I have an early morning class tomorrow— 7:45 a.m., right?”
“Yes, I do.” His tone stayed infuriatingly calm, eyes on the road.
“Then you know I can’t.” She raised one brow high. “This is already past nine. I have to sleep early.”