No Commitment (Capital Kingsmen #1) - Lisa Suzanne Page 0,41

to waiting for a text from Tyler. I’ve taken an interest in photography, but the subject of most of my photos is currently sleeping. I enjoy wine tasting, which technically I’m doing as I sip from a glass of chardonnay while I wait.

And then, when my glass is almost empty, a text comes through.

Tyler: It’s been longer than that for me. Probably since the day I started at Carne’s.

I laugh as a blush creeps into my cheeks. I swear to God, only Tyler has the ability to make me blush from two thousand miles away.

Me: Remember when we used to sneak tequila shots?

Tyler: Confession: I hate tequila. I only did it to look cool in front of you.

I giggle. I can’t picture big, bad Tyler Caldwell doing anything because of peer pressure. Band nerd Tyler of the past...maybe. But not the man he grew into.

Me: I always thought you were cool.

Tyler: But you called me a skinny band nerd when you first realized who I was.

Me: I’m sorry. You weren’t back then, for the record. You were always cute, but I was just shocked how well you’ve aged.

Tyler: You’re making me feel ancient. You do realize I’m only a year older than you, right?

I do realize that, and I also realize how very different our lives are.

He’s a famous celebrity who travels the world with his band. He’s a single, incredibly attractive man who can have any woman he wants...except maybe one who’s a married liar.

On the other hand, I’m a married, stay at home mom who handed a career I loved over to the man I married. I’m a woman who’s sort of miserable with the way the cards have fallen even though I haven’t admitted that to anyone (including myself) since I’m at the root of everything wrong.

I don’t say any of that.

Me: I guess I’m ancient, too.

Tyler: Well you’ve aged like a fine wine.

Me: That might be the single cheesiest line you’ve ever thrown at me, but I’ll let it slide since I’m actually currently drinking wine.

Tyler: I’m on my fourth scotch of the night.

Me: Cheers. [wine glass emoji]

Tyler: [tumbler emoji]

Me: I’m only on my second glass of wine. Why four?

Tyler: Celebrating.

Me: What are you celebrating?

Tyler: The fact that you’re still thinking about me.

My blush deepens, but before I can try to come up with some witty reply, he sends another text.

Tyler: We wrapped our fifth album today.

Me: Congratulations. Are you out somewhere partying it up?

Please tell this stay at home mom slash housewife about the exciting life of a rock star...as long as it doesn’t involve other women.

Tyler: Hardly. I’m watching The Godfather with T, B, & D. It’s tradition.

Me: I’m drinking wine and watching reality TV by myself.

Tyler: [laughing emoji] Reality TV? I figured you never would’ve watched again after everything that happened.

Me: I stick to the hot trash ones. If they’re having sex in windmills or there’s any sort of hooking up, I’m all in.

I leave out the fact that if it reminds me of the things I can’t have, I choose not to watch.

Tyler: Hot trash? Definitely my new catchphrase, so thanks for that.

We keep things light and easy. I uncover surprises when he confesses what television shows he likes—which happen to be pretty much anything on the history channel, for the record (also known as the channel that I put on when I can’t fall asleep, which I tell him).

I learn what kind of scotch he’s drinking and which is his favorite.

I learn that his favorite vacation wasn’t some crazy trip to another country with his band but a camping trip he took with his family when he was a kid.

And when I look at the clock and see I’ve been texting with him for the last three hours, I realize I need to end it and get into bed so I can pretend to be asleep when my husband gets home. It’s become my habit whenever he’s late. That way I don’t have to reject his advances.

It’s been a month since the last time we had sex. I’ve gotten good at blaming the baby. I’m too tired, I’ll tell him. But the truth is that I just haven’t felt the spark. I haven’t wanted to.

And then I saw Tyler. The spark came back...but it’s not my husband I feel it with.

Me: I need to go. It’s two hours later here than LA.

Tyler: Wishing we were in the same time zone. Wishing for more than that, if I’m being honest. Goodnight.

I let

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