Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Kate
Saying no to Tristan was easy.
Well, a hell of a lot easier than saying no to Millie. That girl had me tightly wrapped around her finger, and she knew it too.
The instant I’d told Tristan he couldn’t come to lunch; she’d given me the big doe eyes. It was impossible to refuse her anything when she looked at me like that. And, dammit, if the adorable little shit didn’t know it and used it to her advantage.
Which was why I found myself sitting in Tristan’s car with Millie happily singing along to her favorite songs. The only upside to this was his horrified expression. He had no idea what he’d let himself in for when Millie asked if we could listen to BTS on the drive to my parents’ home.
“How the fuck does she understand any of this?” His gaze met mine for a brief, breathless moment before flicking back to the road.
His voice wasn’t loud, and I doubted Millie heard anything besides the music anyway. Still, I poked a finger in his direction. “Language.”
His dark gaze met mine once again, and holy moly, the intensity of that stare was almost too much. “Remember what happened last time you pointed that pretty finger at me?”
How could I forget?
Too many times to count, I’d shamelessly replayed that kiss.
Imagined the feel of his hands and mouth on me and how far things would’ve gone if I hadn’t freaked out.
And even though a part of me—a really big part, if I were being honest—was furious I’d run away, if I’d gone through with it, I would’ve hated myself.
Maybe not right then but eventually, I would’ve felt cheap and used. Or worse, I’d envy every woman who came after me. Hate them a little too.
Curling my fingers into a fist, I lowered my hand and turned my attention to the moving scenery outside my window. “She doesn’t need to understand the words for them to make her feel good.”
A soft hum was his only response.
For a while, it seemed like we were going to make the drive with only the music and Millie’s singing filling the car.
Until Tristan’s low, gravelly voice rolled over my skin. “You know we need to talk about what happened, right?”
Did we?
“What’s there to talk about?”
I responded without glancing at him. He did not like that. A low growl rumbled from his throat right before his hand clamped down on my leg. His fingers curled into the skin right above my knee. Even through the thick fabric of my jeans, his touch seared me to the bone.
“Don’t do that,” he ground out. “Don’t act like it never happened.”
My resolve was only so strong. I had to see him, had to look into his eyes. I didn’t even fully understand why.
“I’m not,” I said when my gaze locked on to his. “It was just—”
“Don’t you fucking dare say it.” His hold on my leg tightened. That delicious line of pain and pleasure so close it buzzed over my skin. “We both know it was more than just a kiss.”
“I…” A heavy sigh blew over my lips as I flicked my gaze in Millie’s direction. “Can we not do this now?”
Attention drifting to the rearview mirror, his features morphed into something unreadable. Jaw set, mouth tight, he acknowledged me with a quick, sharp jerk of his head.
What he didn’t do though was remove his hand from my leg.
I couldn’t think, let alone freaking breathe with this man touching me. Grabbing his wrist, I tried to pry him away. For a split second, it seemed as if I was getting somewhere with all my tugging.
But again, he was faster. Flipping his hand palm up, he slipped his fingers through mine and squeezed. I was too stunned to do anything but stare.
My gaze bounced between our connected hands and his brutally beautiful face before settling on our hands once more. “Why are you—”
“Shhh.” He poked a button on his steering wheel, turning the volume up. Millie whooped from the back seat and sang even louder. “I’m listening to this.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but he’d stunned me into silence. I had no words, no comebacks. Nothing. My brain couldn’t string coherent letters together, when all I could think about was how nice it felt to have my hand nestled so tightly in his.
All the way to my parents’ home, it was the only thing I could concentrate on. And as horrible as it was to admit, I missed his touch when we climbed out of the car.
Of course, Miss Millie’s excitement couldn’t be contained. She ran ahead of us, opening the door and rushing inside before we’d even reached the porch.
“She didn’t knock,” Tristan said, his tone rife with confusion.
I gave him a confused look of my own. “She’s family, she doesn’t have to knock. Do you knock at your parents’ home?”
His frown deepened as he scraped a big hand over the nape of his neck. “The few times I’ve been there, yes.” His voice was softer, almost a whisper. And I might have imagined it, but I could’ve sworn there was sadness too.
“Why?”
The question was out before I could stop it. And although I really wanted to know, I still added, “You don’t have to answer; it’s none of my business.”
He made the same humming noise as earlier. But unlike the car, silence didn’t follow.
“Manners are very important to my mother. She had countless tutors drill them into me from the moment I could talk. I couldn’t imagine she’d find it endearing if I just wandered through her front door without an invitation or Beaufort announcing me.”
A laugh bubbled up my throat, but when I noticed Tristan’s serious expression, I swallowed it before a single sound could escape. It wasn’t a joke. That’s really how it was between him and his parents.
My heart broke a little. I might not have always gotten along with them, but my family was the most important thing in my life. If we’d ever treated our relationships like business transactions, I’d never have survived it.
“My parents would be incredibly hurt if their children felt the need to knock. Even if I don’t live here anymore, this is and always will be my home. You don’t ask for permission to enter your own home.”
He hummed again. That’s all I got. I’d take it though. Without him realizing, he’d let me peel back a layer. Later, when I was alone, I’d roll this new puzzle piece around inside my brain until I found out exactly where it fit.
First, I had to get through lunch and the million questions my family would undoubtedly have.