Dirty Little Mistake (Hard to Love #2)

Prologue

Camryn

1 8th Birthday...

Sitting on a deck chair around my best friend Kaia's pool, I snuck a glance up to the second-floor terrace, hoping to get a glimpse of him. The mysteriously beautiful creature, also known as Trystan West.

The second-floor balcony to his room was dark, indicating he wasn't home. That wasn't a surprise, considering he was rarely home, and when he was, it usually wasn't for long.

Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly exhaled, releasing my disappointment.

That first glimpse of him at the Kaia’s dads wedding still burned in my memory - the way his black tux stretched across broad shoulders, how the corner of his mouth quirked up when he caught me staring. I'd spent six years collecting these moments like precious stones, while he looked through me like glass.

I was only a girl, and he was already a man, but it didn't matter to me. I just had to figure out how to get him to stop seeing me as his stepsister's annoying little friend and more as the woman I was now. Not that it mattered if he was never here.

Kaia emerged from the house, her bare feet padding across the warm deck, wearing a pair of blue jean cutoff shorts and a yellow bikini top, long blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun on her head.

Her shadow fell across my lounger. "If you stare any harder at his window, it might actually shatter." Her words dripped with six years of sisterly exasperation.

I traced invisible patterns on my armrest, refusing to give her the satisfaction of catching me mid-obsession. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She dropped into the chair beside me. "Right. Because I haven't spent the last six years listening to you analyze every time he says 'pass the salt' at dinner."

"That was one time." My lips twitched traitorously as I met her knowing look. "And you have to admit, the way he says 'salt' is?—"

Kaia's fingers curled around my arm. "If you finish that sentence, I'm pushing you in the pool." We both laughed.

She flashed a look up to the second floor. "He's not home. He had practice tonight, but he did say he would try to stop by to wish you a happy birthday."

"No biggie." I shrugged, playing it cool.

She laughed, and I knew I wasn't fooling her.

"Come on." She waved for me to follow her. "Jax and Owen brought beer."

Jaxtyn West was Trystan's younger brother, and Owen was Jaxtyn's best friend. Jaxtyn, Owen, Kaia, and I had practically all grown up together.

Pushing to my feet, I followed Kaia into the house. "So where is your dad and step-mommy?"

"France," she answered, shoving the sliding glass door open. "They leave tomorrow and head to someplace else."

"Business or pleasure?"

"Both, probably."

Kaia, Jaxtyn, Owen, and I spent the next two hours celebrating my entry into adulthood, but by midnight, I was drunk, tired, and sure Trystan wasn't going to make it home tonight.

Jaxtyn and Owen left for a college party, and Kaia and I settled into bed.

"Sorry Trystan, Syn, and Harlow didn't make it to your party." Kaia yawned, curling into her side of the bed.

I wasn't surprised Syn and Harlow hadn’t made it. Even though we'd all practically grown up like a family for the past six years, Syn and Harlow were pretty self-absorbed and were almost never home now that they had cars. Trystan, though, I actually thought he'd show up, and I don't know why.

"Good night." I yawned.

"Good night."

Kaia was asleep within seconds of her head hitting the pillow, but after forty-five minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up.

Flipping off the blanket, I crawled out of bed and strolled onto the terrace, carefully closing the doors behind me.

Moonlight painted silver edges on the wrought iron railing, and the distant hum of crickets filled the silent night. A cool breeze gusted through the oak trees, sending goosebumps racing across my bare arms.

"Cold?"

His voice cut through the darkness, sending my heart into my throat. My fingers dug into the front of my shirt as I stumbled back, the porch railing catching me before my wobbly knees could give out. The beer I'd had earlier churned in my stomach, mixing with the surge of adrenaline.

It was Trystan, sitting on the edge of a chair on his side of the terrace.

The smoke from his joint curled around him like he was some kind of dark angel, catching on the sharp line of his jaw before disappearing into the night air. His tattoos shifted with each movement, black ink flowing over lean muscle, disappearing beneath the edge of his shirt. When he looked up, those ice-blue eyes caught the moonlight, and my breath hitched.

"Uh, no, I'm okay."

His gaze traced a slow path from my bare feet up to my face, lingering at my collarbone, the weight of his attention like a physical touch. The pad of his thumb dragged across his jaw - a gesture I'd watched a hundred times, always followed by some decision. Tonight, though, there was something different in the way he looked at me: less brotherly, more predatory. Time stretched between us as he considered his next move.

"Want a hit?" He held his joint out to me.

I played coy on the outside, but my insides were screaming like a fourteen-year-old girl who'd just been invited out on a date with the boy of her dreams.

"Uh, yeah." I took a step forward.

He kicked the chair next to him with his long legs, and I dropped into it before taking the blunt.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered. "Sorry I didn't make it back for your party."

"No biggie." I shrugged, pressing the blunt between my lips and drawing in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. "Were you out with your girlfriend?"

I knew Trystan didn't have girlfriends, I was baiting him. I knew he had groupies and lots of them. He was the lead singer of his band, Rage Nation.

"I don't have a girlfriend." With a cocky grin, his gaze shifted to me as the tip of his tongue slipped out, tracing over the sensual curve of his full lips. My breath hitched as my gaze collided with his, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

The way his blue eyes traced over my lips, I thought he might be thinking about kissing me, but I must have been high. He averted his gaze quickly, and I took another drag off the joint before handing it back to him.

Pushing to my feet, I twisted to lean against the terrace railing.

"Did you blow out your candle and make a birthday wish?" The hint of seduction in his tone made my skin heat.

I shook my head. "No."

He raised his brows as he pushed to his feet and stepped into my personal space. "Everyone should make a birthday wish." He reached into the pockets of his black jeans, pulled out a lighter, and flicked it, making the flame flicker. "Make a wish, birthday girl."

My gaze shifted from him to the flame. There was only one thing I wanted right now. I closed my eyes.

I wish Trystan would kiss me.

Opening my eyes, I blew out the flame, and my gaze blinked up to him.

"What did you wish for?" The lighter disappeared into his pocket, but the heat in his eyes remained.

"If I tell you..." I ran my finger along the railing, drawing invisible patterns. "It might not come true."

His hands found the railing on either side of me, each movement as deliberate as a hunter stalking prey.

He leaned down with deliberate slowness, close enough that I caught the faint scent of smoke and something familiarly him, far enough that the inches between us crackled with possibility. His breath ghosted across my cheek as he spoke, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Sometimes,” - a pause, heavy with intent - “saying it out loud is the only way to make it real.” The words vibrated through the small space between us, and I watched his lips shape each syllable, wondering if they'd feel as soft as they looked.

The confidence in his voice said he already knew what my wish was.

I drew in a breath as my heart pounded wildly. This was it. My moment. I could tell him, and it could go one of two ways, but either way, it was now or never.

"I wished you would kiss me," I whispered, averting my gaze as my cheeks heated with embarrassment, and I immediately tried to recover myself. "I mean, I was just?—"

He moved like a storm breaking - one moment the tension hung thick in the air, the next his lips found mine, stealing the end of my sentence.

Time froze, before gravity pulled me into his orbit. His tongue traced the seam of my lips and I parted for him, helpless against the magnetic pull.

Trystan West was kissing me.

Not some gentle, friendly kiss. An aggressive I-want-to-fuck-your-mouth kiss. He devoured me like a starving man, all heat and hunger and desperation, his fingers digging crescents into my hips as he claimed every inch I offered.

I'd dreamed about this moment since I was twelve years old, and it was more than I could have ever imagined.

My hands curled into his black tee, pulling him to me, and his hips pinned me tight against the railing as one hand curled around my hip and the other into my hair. He jerked my head back, ripping my mouth from his. His ragged breath fanned across my face.

"Is that what you wished for?" His lips brush mine, teasing and taunting me for more.

"Yes," I breathed.

His head dipped to my ear, and time seemed to slow. Each exhale brushed the sensitive skin beneath my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine. “Stay with me tonight.”

Four words, spoken so softly they were barely more than vibrations against my skin, but they ignited something molten in my core. The invitation hung in the air between us, heavy with six years of stolen glances and midnight dreams. His lips traced the shell of my ear, not quite a kiss, more a promise of what could follow. The railing at my back was the only thing keeping me upright as desire coursed through me like wildfire, settling between my thighs.

I knew what he was asking. He was asking for one night in his bed, but for the briefest moment, I pretended that it was more, that he was actually into me for more than that. But if all I could have was one night. I'd take it.

His lips grazed my jaw before he leaned back, his gaze locking on mine.

"Yes." I nodded.

He dropped his arms, releasing me. "Are you sure?"

I'd never been more sure about anything in my life.

I nodded again.

His fingers threaded through mine, calloused fingertips brushing my inner wrist where my pulse raced beneath paper-thin skin. Each backward step was an invitation, drawing me deeper into his orbit. The French doors whispered shut behind us, and darkness swallowed everything except the heat of his skin against mine and the sound of our uneven breathing. Without sight, every sensation intensified - his thumb tracing patterns on my palm, the faint scent of his cologne that always clung to his clothes, the electric awareness of his body so close to mine.

"Trystan," I breathed, feeling around for him. He slid his hands around me from behind, grabbing the hem of my shirt and easing it over my head. I wasn't wearing a bra or panties, only that shirt and a pair of boxers.

Trystan's fingers splayed across my bare stomach, his touch sending electricity through my skin. "I don't do girlfriends."

"I know." I swallowed hard. I might regret this in the morning, but right now, none of it mattered.

His lips brushed against my shoulder, leaving a trail of heat. "Are you on birth control?" A shiver ran down my spine, my eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

"No." The warmth of his breath ghosted across my skin.

"Have you ever had sex before?"

My chest constricted, heart hammering against my ribs. "No." I dropped my gaze to the floor. Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"You're a virgin?"

"Yes."

An awkward silence filled the room for so long that my heart started to pound as the world narrowed to pinpoints of sensation - the electric current racing beneath my skin, the way my fingers trembled against the railing, the sudden dryness of my throat as his gaze locked with mine. Each inhale felt like breathing underwater.

"Do you have a condom?" It was the only thing I could think of asking to break the silence.

"No." He sighed, sliding his hand into mine and tugging me toward the bed. "We don't need one."

"Trystan, I'm not on birth control." I tugged back.

He laughed. "I heard you. We don't need one because we aren't having sex. Not tonight anyway."

"Oh." I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice. "Should I go?"

"No. Unless you changed your mind and you don't want to spend the night with me."

I hadn't changed my mind. "No."

Trystan and I climbed into his bed. Our naked bodies fused together as we both drifted off to sleep without another word.

My eyes eased open, and I shivered as a cold chill swept through the room. A hint of sunlight seeped in, and I realized it would be morning soon. I shifted my position to let Trystan know I was sneaking back to Kaia's room but I was alone. My gaze scanned the empty room.

Jumping out of bed, I searched the floor until I found my clothes, quickly pulling them on. I stepped out onto the terrace, searching for Trystan.

He was gone.

He'd disappeared while I was sleeping.

Pulling open Kaia's bedroom door, I headed straight for the bathroom, thankful Kaia wasn't awake yet, not that she would care that I'd snuck into her stepbrother's bed last night. I just didn’t want to admit that he ghosted me.

It took me twenty minutes to shower and change before heading downstairs for a drink.

My bare feet stuck slightly to the polished hardwood as I descended the stairs. Morning light streamed through the wall of windows in the kitchen.

I froze at the sight of Trystan standing one hip cocked against the island, coffee steam curling around his fingers while his other hand moved restlessly across his phone screen. The whole kitchen smelled like expensive coffee and regret.

I wrapped my fingers around the doorframe, steadying myself. "Hey."

Trystan's thumbs moved rapidly across his phone screen.

"What's up?" He didn't bother looking up.

I started to turn away, my body already knowing what my mind refused to accept.

"Oh—" His voice stopped me, and I hated how quickly hope bloomed in my chest. "About last night. Let's keep that between us."

"I tell Kaia everything." The words came out sharper than I meant them to. "She's my best friend. She won't care."

"I care." His eyes finally met mine, blank as a newly wiped slate. "I would rather this stayed between us."

His words settled like ice in my stomach, spreading frost through my veins until even my fingertips felt numb. He regretted last night. I squared my shoulders, summoning the same mask I'd worn for years, letting it slide into place like armor. My lips curved upward, practiced and hollow.

I sucked in a deep steading breath. "Sure."

"I gotta go." He placed his coffee cup in the sink. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

My gaze followed him as he disappeared out of the house and into the garage. Even though I knew Trystan was a free spirit and he'd been honest with me from the start, a part of me still thought maybe it was more, but lesson learned.

Never again would I make the mistake of not taking his warning seriously.