Chapter 26 Ligaya #2
“Like what?” With one arm tightening around my shoulder, he uses the other hand to tilt my chin up.
I meet his gaze and regret it instantly. I’m mesmerized by hazel eyes and long lashes and the slight sheen of sweat under his adorable beanie. His breath curls in the cold between us.
“Like we’re lovers,” I state through parched lips. “Because we’re not, and we won’t be.”
He exhales unsteadily as realization hits.
His brows furrow, and without a word, he pulls his arm back.
The loss of his warmth is immediate. Tristan straightens, elbows resting on his knees as he stares out at the stream.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob like a man swallowing down his words.
Meanwhile, the winter air snaps, sharp and brittle with cold.
“It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you,” I say quietly. “But we can’t be thinking that way right now. Not when there are so many other considerations.”
My voice sounds small, but the honesty in it anchors me. This isn’t about being coy. I need to be vulnerable and clear, even if it’s awkward for us both.
“And if you have to go back to Denver for, um, for hockey . . . we need to talk about custody with a clear head.” And my heart intact, I almost say.
This is when Tristan tells me he’s never going back to Denver, right?
Wrong. He lets out a low breath that borders on a sigh.
“You’re right. But damn if kissing you isn’t all I fucking think about.”
His words hang between us, impossible to ignore. He’s being vulnerable and honest, too. Even if the words sightly crack my wall of resistance, they only confirm how important it is to have this conversation.
“The attraction is there, but we need to figure out how to be around each other without sleeping together.” I rub my hands together nervously. “I don’t do casual sex. I’d rather not complicate our lives. We need to establish stability now if we plan to co-parent later.”
He doesn’t answer right away and instead resorts to grinding his molars. His jaw flexes before he declares wryly, “Stability is only possible if we aren’t lovers.”
“Exactly. We should get to know each other in ways that matter for our success as parents.”
“Are you sure kissing isn’t going to contribute to our success as parents?” His gaze dips, lingering a second too long on my mouth before dragging back up.
“Let’s be friends.”
His eyes burn on me. “You make it sound like a dare.”
“Do I?”
He stands and holds out his hand to help me up. “Let’s be friends.”
We return to the trail, walking side by side. Heat rolls off him in waves. His shoulder brushes mine once, twice. I ignore the sparks. Back at the car, he opens the driver’s side door for me.
“I’ll take your Honda back to Columbus with me,” he says casually. “Get it detailed. Make sure it’s in good shape to sell.”
I blink. “You’re kidnapping my Georgie?”
He grins. “Temporary custody.”
Since he’s on the driver’s side, helping me get in, Tristan also shows me how to adjust the steering wheel and my chair. Now I’m perched over the dash and much more comfortable.
“What are you doing for New Year’s? More Netflix and chips?” Tristan asks while we drive back to my place.
“There’s a New Year’s Eve party at Axis my friends and I always go to. How about you?”
“I know Axis. Can I tag along?”
I tilt my head and squint at him. “It sells out almost as soon as the tickets go on sale.”
He smirks, like he’s been waiting for this setup. “I’m a hockey player. I know people.”
I raise a brow, pretending to be unimpressed, even though I’m already fighting a grin. “Tristan, do you have secret club connections?”
He leans in just a little, close enough that I catch a hint of his minty goodness.
“Sweetheart, I am the secret club connection.”
A surprised, short burst of sound escapes before I can control it. Did I just giggle?
His hazel eyes catch the light, specks of green on display. “Well? Are you good if I party with you and your friends?” he prompts.
I glance away for a second, suddenly self-conscious about what my friends would say about Tristan showing up when I’ve dodged any questions about him.
“I’m surprised Toby hasn’t invited you.”
“Does he know about the twins?”
I shake my head slowly. “I’ll let him know soon. He’ll kill me if I don’t tell him at least a few weeks before all our other friends find out.”
Tristan’s expression softens. “Your friends loved me at the Halloween party.”
I smirk. “They loved the wings.”
He releases a low chuckle, amused and thoughtful and so damn sexy.
“You have a great community here, Ligaya,” he says after a moment. “I can see why you stayed in Centerstone.”
His words catch me off guard.
Something about the way he says it tugs at my insecurity.
Is that an insult wrapped in flattery? Like I “stayed in Centerstone” and didn’t explore my options?
Stayed where I was comfortable, and my “community” was consolation for settling?
That I haven’t seen the world or pushed past what’s comfortable?
I wrap my arms around myself against the cold, unsure if I’m trying to warm my body or protect my pride.
“It’s a compliment,” Tristan assures me and reaches over to smooth the furrow on my brows.
“Thank you,” I say, keeping my reservations to myself. “It’ll be a great place to raise kids.”
My eyes search his, willing him to say something more, hoping for reassurance that this “compliment” is a precursor to staying here, too.
Part of me wants to ask outright: Are you settling down in Centerstone or not? It’s the word settling that stops me. Tristan is someone who has seen the world and taken risks. He’s lived his entire adult life away from Ohio.
I’m keeping the babies based entirely on my choice.
Whether or not he stays in Columbus or returns to Denver needs to be his choice.