Chapter 10
TRISTAN
“Out where?” Katie wrenches her hand and breaks my hold, then tries to flip me on my back.
I grunt and resist her, but Bailey is damn strong. Her thighs are around my waist.
“None of your business. I was having fun.”
“You don’t get to have fun without telling me.”
Irritation flickers inside me. Nights like last night are the only thing I have for myself. The only time I’m not worried about being the spare or wondering if I’m doing things right.
“Like hell I do.”
She growls and manages to get me on my side, and then we’re really grappling. Her breaths are harsh and so are mine, and my muscles strain from my toes to my face as we roll in the grass. It’s damp and cold, even through my shirt.
Katie and I don’t spar all out like this. Perhaps I’ve known instinctually that it would cause something heavy and strange to twist through my stomach. She’s damn good. I have a lot of muscle on her, but she makes up for it with skill and sheer ferocity.
She scrambles away and flips to her feet. Her shirt has ridden up, exposing an inch of flat stomach. She blows a hair out of her face and narrows her deep brown eyes.
“You’re going to wake up to new security procedures tomorrow, Tristan Prince.” She lunges, low and fast.
“Oh yeah? Who died and made you the boss?” I can barely get the words out as she tries to take me to the ground.
“You did. You left. Or don’t you remember? You had to go gallivanting and you left me here. So yeah, I’m the boss.”
She slams me down onto my front and the breath rushes out of me. She wrenches an arm behind my back, then the other, tighter than she ever has. I still, my pulse beating wildly.
This is new.
This is different.
I think I like this.
“You mad?” I croak.
“I’m so mad I want to lock you in the house.”
I snort. “Go ahead, killer. I have a secret passageway and a fast car.”
She growls and settles her weight over my hips. “I’ll steal your fucking spark plugs, Tristan Prince. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I have very little freedom and I intend to enjoy it,” I bite out.
“You have no idea of the risks,” she exclaims. “I should tie you up right here and leave you on the grass.” Her breath puffs against my ear. There’s an answering tug in my stomach.
“Go ahead.” The words slip out of me.
“What?” She relaxes into me. I use her moment of distraction to jerk my hips up, tumble her to the side, and pin her back to the grass.
I bare my teeth in her face, and her eyes widen. Our mouths are inches apart. I taste the mint on her breath. Our stomachs push together with our heavy exhales.
We both freeze.
My eyes drop to her mouth. My world slides sideways.
I want to taste her.
There’s a jolt of lust so strong that I nearly gasp.
Oh god.
I cast around for something to say. Something not insane. Nothing that indicates how I’m picturing licking her neck.
“You’re just jealous.”
She blinks. “Of what?”
“Of me.” I let a cocky grin grow across my face. When in doubt, deflect. “You want to stay out all night.”
“Maybe I do.”
“So call Ryan. He asked for your number.”
That doesn’t sound insane at all.
“Maybe I will,” she fires back before she shoves me off her. I roll to my back and blink up at the sky.
Holy shit.
“You want some water?” She snags the water bottle she dropped in the grass and takes a long swallow. When she finishes, there’s a drop of water on her lip. Her tongue dips out to pick it up.
My whole body tightens.
I jerk my gaze away.
“Nope.”
I wanted to lick that drop. My tongue, her mouth. I flatten my palm against the grass. This cannot be happening.
I can’t want her.
It’s a cardinal rule of friendship—you don’t lust after your friends. It ruins everything. I force myself to think logically and ignore the heat inside me.
A brief flash of want means nothing. It’s hormones and symmetry. I read a study about how babies will prefer symmetrical faces over others. That’s all this is. Bailey is just incredibly symmetrical.
I’ve always known it, but I’ve never felt it. I’ve never felt like my stomach was being jerked out of my body just watching her sip water. Her looks have never mattered, and now, as I chance another glance at her—fuck. They still don’t matter.
I need to deal with this. I need to be normal.
“Do you have his number?”
“What?”
“Ryan’s number. Do you have it?”
“Yeah.” I scrub a palm down my face before I sit up and pull my phone from my pocket. I’m lucky it’s not cracked. My shirt is torn and my jeans are muddy.
Adrenaline is fading slowly, leaving me shaky and exhilarated at the same time. “You want it?”
“No. But can you send him mine?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Yeah, sure.” I don’t want to give it to him. I don’t like Ryan all that much and Katie deserves the best. “You want to stay out all night with him?” My words come out with an odd bite. I’m tired. Grumpy and tired from staying out all night myself.
She pulls her lip into her mouth and I watch the soft flesh give under her white teeth. There’s a free-falling sensation in my stomach. “Yes. I do. Maybe I’d finally get laid.”
I choke on air. “Excuse me?”
She lets out a big yawn and hops to her feet. “Walk and talk. I need coffee.”
I dog her steps. “You want to get laid?”
“I’m twenty-six.” She shrugs and starts jogging toward the building where Alexis and her catering team work.
“So?” I can barely keep my voice even. I didn’t know Katie wanted this. This doesn’t square with the Katie I know. I let my eyes drift down her body. She’s not going to have any trouble getting laid, but I’m not sure she realizes that.
“I’m not getting laid now and I’m tired of it.”
“So you’re going to sleep with Ryan?” My question comes out on a breathless laugh, and she scowls.
“Don’t mock me.” She speeds up, and I speed up too, even though my head feels fuzzy and I hate running in jeans.
“I’m not.” I put my hand on her arm and she slows, then stops. I’m not mocking her. I’m just…catching up.
“What, Tristan?” She glares up at me, her deep brown eyes annoyed and narrowed on my face. “I don’t want to be alone. I want to be wanted. You made me admit it. Happy?”
I still, blinking slowly at her. I never imagined Katie was lonely.
But of course she is. She lives in the apartment above the security center and takes one day off a week.
She barely drinks and she works constantly.
She’s fiercely loyal and overprotective and takes paranoia to new extremes.
I’m not sure when she’d ever have time to meet guys.
And why does the thought of her dating make me feel weird? Like a piece of my insides is trying to separate from my body?
I rub a hand down my face. This is why I don’t stay out all night. It makes me feel sluggish and strange. I need to sleep for a week.
“So you want to meet someone?”
She tips up her chin. “Yes. You’re not going to be the only one staying out all night and having marathon sex.”
“What did you say?”
Her eyes widen and she starts jogging again. I hurry to keep pace.
“Did you say marathon sex?”
“Nope,” she says quickly.
“Yes. You did.”
Her braid swings in time with her steps and she quickens her pace as I start to pull even with her. The dawn light is blinding as we exit the tree cover and face the ocean.
“Katie,” I say warningly.
“Fine.” Her shoulders are tight and her steps falter. “I heard some girls at the bar. Talking about you.” She slows to a walk as the catering building comes into view.
“Talking about me how?” I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff.
“They said you were good in bed. Insatiable. You had a marathon of sex with one of their friends.”
I’m staring. I can’t help it. I feel like I’ve been knocked out and woken up in an alternate reality.
“Stop looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head. I want someone to be insatiable for me. I want to be insatiable. I talked to Sienna, and everyone is out here having hot, sweaty sex, and I should be too.”
My stomach pulls taut.
I clear my throat.
“Do not argue with me. I’m athletic. I should be breaking a sweat in bed. I’ve dated losers who weren’t right for me and I’ve been stuck for so long—and I’m done. I’m just fucking done.”
Her eyes are flashing and her chest heaves on shallow breaths.
I’m right back where I was ten minutes ago, drowning in need, but now the sex in my head is more athletic. We’re roughhousing and we are insatiable for each other. I’m half hard under my jeans and I thank the powers that be that her blazing gaze is on my face and not my body.
And then I think about her offering to break a sweat in bed with some stranger, who might be a creep, or a stalker, or just plain bad at sex.
“I’ll help.”
She blinks at me. “You will?”
I feel like I’m watching myself have this conversation from above. “Sure.” I clear my throat. “What are friends for?”
“You are pretty good with people,” she muses. “And honestly, after twenty minutes on a dating app, I think I might need the help.”
I nod. “If this is what will make you happy, then I’ll help you find someone as soon as possible.”
Anything to stop feeling like this and get back to the way things normally are between us.
Her smile brightens. “Thanks, Tristan.”
I stare at her as she waves goodbye and heads for catering.
I don’t want to be alone. I want to be wanted.
There is absolutely no reason for me to fixate on that, but I do. For the rest of the day.