Chapter 48
TRISTAN
Tristan Prince’s plan to get Katie Bailey to fall in love with him
- Be sneaky
- Wear less clothing
- Find out what she wants and give it to her
- Tell her your secrets
- Play one of your songs for her no she’ll hate that
- Under no circumstances should you blurt out your feelings!!
Iam a man with a plan, but the list is distressingly short. I lie in bed at three a.m., wide awake, my mind spinning.
Last night was a roller coaster of emotions.
Giddiness when she wanted me too, then disappointment when she didn’t immediately confess her feelings, then dawning hope as I realized how scared she was.
That hope grew with her stubborn confession that she wanted more, then flickered when she implied it was temporary.
I’m not fucking temporary.
And I’m not letting her try to make this weird either.
Which means today, I make a plan, and later, I show her how good things can be with us.
I sigh before I slip out of my bed, and pad down the hall to the lab. My laptop is there, the black screen staring accusingly at me. I still haven’t announced. Mac’s emails are increasingly urgent. Grandfather’s are increasingly terse.
I blow out a breath and push the anxious thoughts away. Whit says three a.m. thoughts are not to be trusted under any circumstances. I pull up Google and pause, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.
If I’m being perfectly honest, which Aiden keeps encouraging me to be, I don’t have the first clue how to win a woman over.
I’ve never tried. Ever. I always figured it would hurt too much to even admit I wanted something I couldn’t have.
That it would feel exactly like I did as a kid—trying to get people’s attention in the worst way possible and failing every time.
I would rather die than feel that way again.
I frown. Correction. I would rather die than not have Katie.
Slowly, I type into the search bar—animal mating rituals. I’m a man of science, after all. Animals have been winning over their mates with a few leaves and a fresh kill for thousands of years. It can’t be that hard, right?
“I’ve been doing it all wrong.”
Whit hums into the phone and spoons another scoop of peanut butter into a foul-looking smoothie.
“Are you listening to me? It says here that male penguins gift female penguins with rocks for their nests. If she likes the rock, she’ll mate with him. But if another male gives her a nice rock, she’ll mate with him too.”
“And?” He scoops some green powder into his smoothie.
“I let Seth give her rocks. And Ryan. And that guy at the bar.” I lean forward, closer to the screen. “I haven’t given her any rocks, Whit.”
“Is this a metaphor?” He wrinkles his nose. “Tristan, it’s nine a.m. here and I swear, if rocks are a stand-in for your dick, I’m going to blend my phone up with this kale.”
“No.” I shove a hand through my hair. “I’m so behind. I’ve never done this. How do I know what she wants?”
Whit shrugs. “You’re her best friend.”
“So what?” I’m nearly shouting, and I push off the stool and start pacing. Friendship means nothing. “I need her to see me romantically. I need to give her rocks.”
Whit is staring at me like I have four heads.
“What? You think it’s a bad idea?”
“Assuming I buy this metaphor, I think you need to give her Katie-specific rocks. Rocks that make her feel things. Rocks that mean something.”
“Rocks that make her cry.” I grab my list and start scribbling. I think about what Aiden said the other day, about showing Katie pieces of myself. A seed of an idea takes root and forces my pen to move faster across the page.
“Uh, sure. Rocks that make her cry.”
“That’s what she likes. She wants to go to college, but she won’t admit it, and she loves documentaries about people who do impossible things, and she has a whole bunch of dreams she’s stashed away and never accomplished. I bet I can make her want to cry.”
I smile triumphantly.
Whit is squinting at me.
“What?”
“I don’t think you’re fit to run the company.”
“Shut up.”
He laughs. “Tristan, if it were me, I’d give her the best sex of her life and make her breakfast. But your way sounds good too.”
Two hours later, I pull on my jogging pants and grab a long-sleeved shirt before I smile to myself and toss it back on the bed. In the animal kingdom, males display their feathers to attract a mate. I might not have feathers, but Katie’s eyes kept dropping to my body last night while we watched TV.
She likes my body.
She really likes what my body can do for her.
She wanted more, which is exactly why I didn’t give it to her. Never try to take by force what you can win by cunning.
I assess my pants with a critical eye. I should have showered. Or maybe not. Maybe my just-fucked hairstyle will remind her that she wishes she were just-fucked.
I run a palm down my face.
This is the hard part.
The wanting to tell her so badly that I nearly blurted it out while kissing her part. The you better not fuck this up or she’ll run part.
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my pants and push them down just a little, flashing a little more of my stomach. I think she liked that too. She couldn’t stop touching it yesterday.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and snort a laugh. I look insane in the light of dawn—eyes wild, hair standing up, pants low slung enough that I look like I’m about to rip them off and go to town on her.
I take a mirror photo for Whit.
Tristan
Think this is what women like?
Whit
A little lower, Tris. Don’t think she can see your dick.
I laugh again and jog down the stairs and out into the misty morning. Not wearing a shirt may have been a mistake. My skin prickles in the air as my feet slap the path that will take me to catering first, then Katie’s second.
I’ll beat her to the workout and I’ll have a coffee for her when she opens the door.
I don’t know if I can make her happy, but I know I can provide for her. And I know we’re compatible.
Hell, we’re more than compatible.
I’ve never felt like that with any woman before—that connected, that urgent, like if she didn’t have me inside her right then, she’d die, and if I didn’t have my mouth on her, I’d stop breathing.
Beyond that, I felt—new. I turn the feeling over in my head, add it to the list of ones I don’t really understand but know when I recognize them.
The warm-hug feeling I get when I see Emory with Aiden, the champagne-lightning feeling I get when I’m on stage.
And now, the feeling that my organs are too big for my body.
No, that’s not right. It’s the feeling that my body is too small to contain me.
When I’m with Katie, I feel like I own the world.
I grin to myself as I approach the catering building. They’ve been here since five a.m., and when I knock on the door, Alexis herself answers.
She runs a critical eye over my chest before she passes me two coffees. “I got you something.”
“Yeah?”
“If you say it was me, I’ll deny it.” Her gaze flicks to the side before she dips her hand into the pocket of her chef’s jacket and pulls out a bottle of coffee creamer with a homemade label that I recognize.
My eyes widen. “Where did you get this?”
“My friend is the manager at Beans ’N Brew. She gave me a bottle. It’s the proprietary summer recipe. Tastes like fresh sweet cream with a hint of orange blossom.” She shrugs, but she’s fighting a smile.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her smile. “Why?” I ask as I take the bottle and dump an unhealthy amount into Katie’s coffee.
“Because she deserves good things,” Alexis says simply. “And you? With her? I’ve never seen anything better.”
I’m still fighting against the tightness of my throat when she plucks the bottle out of my hands and shuts the door in my face.