Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
LILY
The bacon is the perfect amount of crispy, but I can’t savor it. I’m sitting at this table still wearing Tristan’s shirt and a pair of sweats I pulled on quickly, and no one is saying anything.
Roland sets more food in the center of the table, like this is all normal. As though we’re one big happy family having a normal breakfast, and I didn’t just crawl out of the bed I was in with Tristan ten minutes ago. Where I lost my virginity! I’m still trying to process all that happened.
Last night, everything between us came to a head. Neither one of us could stop. I’ve wanted him for so long, and he was here after I thought he might have forgotten all about me.
That doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed about it. Pissed at him and myself. While the table might be quiet, I can sense Teddy ready to burst with questions. They’re bubbling up inside of her, and I’m shocked she’s lasted this long, if I’m being honest.
Tristan sits beside me, close enough that his knee brushes mine under the table, and I don’t move away. I should because I know he’s doing it on purpose.
I also should be telling him to hit the road, jerkoff. Instead, I’m staring at my eggs and remembering how his hands felt on my hips, how he said he’d find me anywhere, and how I believed him.
“You’re quiet this morning, Lily Pad.”
I look up from my plate. Teddy’s watching me from across the table, eyes too sharp, too knowing. She knows. Of course she knows. She saw me in that bed, wearing that shirt, with Tristan’s arm still around me.
“Just tired.”
“You don’t say. Something kept you up last night?” She blinks at me innocently.
Killian doesn’t have anything innocent going right now. In fact, he’s been doing that scary blank stare at Tristan, not touching his food.
I’m not answering that loaded question, so I redirect the conversation.
“What’s up with you two?” I ask, motioning with my fork back and forth between Tristan and Killian.
“I’m sure he’s pissed, putting together I’ve been around and managed to slip into your bedroom.” Tristan takes a sip of his coffee.
“After breakfast, I plan to take you down to the basement. Then I’ll find out all your little tricks,” Killian says.
“Little?” Tristan smirks at him, not the least bit scared.
Tristan isn’t as big as Killian; not many are.
Killian is built big and barrel-chested, like those linemen you see on the football field my dad used to yell at every Sunday.
Tristan, however, is defined, muscular, athletic, and quick.
He’s also tall as hell. They are actually an intriguing contrast to each other.
It makes me recall when Killian said he had blood on his hands, but Tristan likely has more. He just isn’t as personal about it as Killian is, taking a very hands-on approach.
“The Pentagon doesn’t think they’re so little.”
I turn my head to stare at Tristan. Are they having a pissing contest right now?
Killian’s jaw ticks. “You think it’s funny, pretty boy?”
“I think you’re overreacting.” Tristan’s voice stays casual, but I feel his leg press harder against mine. “Lily’s safety was the priority. I handled it.” My safety? Does he think a random-ass person is going to pluck me off the street?
Okay, if I go off crime shows, sure, but I’m not jogging down an alley. That said, Teddy and I do seem to attract questionable, murderous, brilliant men. Rich too. It’s a mixed bag, but the pros are winning pretty hard.
“Handled it.” Killian leans forward, and there’s something cold in his eyes now.
“Slipping in and out of our home for months. Past my security. Past fucking everything.” Is Killian mad at himself or Tristan?
In all fairness, the last time the two of them were together, Killian got the drop on him, so maybe it’s even now.
Tristan smiles. “Your security has gaps.”
“Your tech has limits.”
“Does it?”
They’re staring at each other, and I realize what’s happening beyond a pissing match. This is about territory. Skill. Two predators who’ve challenged each other in different ways.
“Tech can always crash. It’s not stable,” Killian counters.
“And hands-on can be unpredictable. There are too many loose ends. It can get sloppy.”
“Messy,” they say in unison, then both pause.
“Interesting,” Killian agrees.
“Problematic,” Tristan murmurs.
Teddy looks between them. “Are you two like bonding?”
“Shh,” I hush her. “I think they’re going to kiss.”
“Evaluating,” they say together, and something passes between them. I glare over at Teddy, having my own silent conversation, asking her if she’s catching this. They can’t have silent conversations. That’s our thing, and how are they doing it so quickly?
It has to be a psycho thing. Their brains think the same or some shit.
“Have you seen The Truman Show?” Killian asks.
The Truman Show. Where is this conversation going? Is this how people feel when Teddy and I are together in our own little world? It’s kinda rude. For them to do it, not us. Obviously.
Tristan smiles wide; I swear his eyes are lighting up. “I know why you’re asking.”
“You think we could build one of those domes? Just put them in there.”
“Controlled environment,” Tristan agrees. “Complete surveillance. No exit points.”
“Hey,” Teddy and I say together. Holy shit, this is getting out of control.
“Optimal coverage,” Killian continues, ignoring us. “Your tech, my presence. No gaps.”
“Unlimited resources. Custom architecture.” These two are out of their damn minds and need to be separated immediately.
“Gentlemen,” I interrupt, “you’re planning our imprisonment in front of us.”
“Protection,” they correct in unison.
“Same thing,” Teddy mutters.
Killian finally looks at his wife, and there’s something almost fond in his expression. “It’s not the same thing.”
“It really isn’t,” Tristan adds.
I smack his arm. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Too late.” Killian stands, extending his hand across the table. “Partnership. Joint custody.”
“That’s not—” Teddy starts.
“Operational oversight,” Tristan amends, shaking Killian’s hand. “Shared responsibility.”
“Still not better.” I sink down into my chair. I’m not sure we can stop them. Lightsabers aren’t going to work.
They keep going, talking over us, planning camera placements and patrol schedules; two dangerous men who’ve found common ground in the worst possible way.
And somehow, despite everything, I find myself fighting a smile.
“There’s more I should probably tell you,” Tristan says quietly.
I look at him. “More than a dome?”
He nods. How can there be more? What else? It hits me. Of course. I want to face-palm myself. The dating app.
“Mr. Mysterious,” I say slowly. A small gasp that turns into a laugh comes from Teddy across the table. Yeah, we should have seen that coming.
His hand stills. “You knew?”
“I didn’t. Not until just now.” I shake my head. “You made the app. You were the one I was talking to.”
“Yes.” He doesn’t appear sorry about this.
“The good morning texts. The checking if I ate. The—” I stop, my throat tight. “You were saved in my phone before you ever entered the room.”
“Before I was allowed to be in the house.” His voice is low and rough. “I’m a jealous bastard.”
I stare at him. The man who climbed into my tower. The man who watched me for years and then couldn’t stop.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed because that would be a normal reaction. The last thing I should be is smitten and turned on, but I am.
Aren’t we the crazy duo? I kind of love that for us.