Chapter 27 Tristan
TRISTAN
The bass is thudding so hard it’s like I swallowed a boom box.
The lightshow in Axis is how I imagine being stuck inside a kaleidoscope would feel.
The line outside was wrapped around the block, yet I strolled right in thanks to the VIP hookup.
It was easy enough to snag a ticket to this sold-out rager.
One of the perks of being a Columbus Mavericks player, since the team has a sponsorship deal with the bar.
I’m surrounded by hundreds of sweaty and scantily dressed people, yet there’s only one person I want to see. Ligaya’s last text mentioned that her group secured a table underneath the bright pink sign of Axis.
I see her.
Instantly, everything around me is muffled, like someone dunked my head underwater.
Her dress is a gold, shimmery thing that catches the strobe lights and throws them back, more fireworks than fabric.
Tight bodice, strapless, with a structured shape that makes her look like royalty.
Her hair’s pulled back, sleek and dark. It exposes her creamy skin and deep cleavage.
And those heels? Christ. If I ever get the chance to make love to Ligaya again, I want those heels on while I fling her legs over my shoulders.
As if my filthy thoughts were projected on a bubble over my head, Ligaya spots me.
She looks radiant, glowing from the inside out.
Her smile turns warmer and wider as I approach.
When I lean down to give her a hug, I indulge in a greedy inhale.
My cock was half-mast a moment ago, but with her heat pressed against my chest and that soft floral scent in her hair, I’m sporting a goddamn flagpole.
I shift slightly, exhaling through my nose.
Calm down. Think of anything else. Hockey drills.
Ice baths. That one coach who spits when he talks.
I glance away from her, focusing on the blinking lights above the dance floor, hoping the dizzying distraction will tamp down the heat surging through my bloodstream.
“Are you OK?” Ligaya asks.
“Yeah. It’s loud in here.”
She chuckles and tilts her chin toward a figure weaving through the crowd. Toby approaches with Kai.
“Hey, guys. How’s it going?” I shake both their hands, gripping firmly.
Toby pulls me into a tight hug—two solid pats on the back that feel more like a test than a greeting. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. She must’ve told him about the pregnancy, although it doesn’t seem like anyone else knows. Not yet.
A few more people drift toward us, some I vaguely recognize from the Halloween party. Friendly faces, cheerful energy. Unfortunately, the more they close in, the farther away Ligaya gets. She ends up on the opposite side of the circle, her face catching the kaleidoscope of neon lights.
Some guy I don’t recognize leans in and murmurs something against her ear.
Ligaya laughs, head tipping back slightly.
Jealousy—ugly and searing—eats at my insides.
Watching someone else make her laugh like that?
No fucking way. Without hesitation, I cut through the circle and gently touch her elbow.
“Dance with me.” It isn’t a question.
Her lashes flutter, making her look like a doll. A really fucking sexy one. She slips her hand into mine and we push through the crowd on our way to the dance floor.
The remix of an early 2000s hit pulses around us. The sheer density of people brings me closer to Ligaya. Her body fits perfectly against mine, hips moving in time with the rhythm. Her breasts graze my chest, and I barely suppress a groan at how much I want her.
Fuck, I want her.
“Your dress is beautiful.”
She moves her head sideways to indicate that I need to speak into her ear. It’s freaking loud in here.
Under my breath, I mutter, “I’d like to rip it the fuck off, but . . .”
“I said your dress is beautiful,” I say louder.
Before Ligaya can respond, there’s a tap on my shoulder. It’s Sean and Gordon, my teammates. I’m not the only Mavericks player who grabbed a hot party ticket.
“Bro,” Sean says, eyes wide. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming tonight?”
Gordon chuckles. “Have you kept the group chat on mute all this time?”
I purse my lips guiltily.
They glance at Ligaya, then at each other.
Sean mouths, Is this her? with a dramatic eyebrow wiggle.
Gordon leans into my ear. “Are you going to introduce us to your baby mama or what?”
I cringe. “Guys, can we not?”
Ligaya smiles, oblivious to the fact that I’ve already told the team about our twins. Thank god it’s loud in here.
It’s not my intention to talk about Ligaya behind her back, but part of me can barely control the urge to shout this woman is carrying my children!
It’s not even conscious. I spontaneously blurt out that she’s pregnant in a grocery store or a group chat when no one is asking.
The point is, what started as a decision is now an obsession.
I want everyone to know we’re having babies this summer.
I’d announce it to this whole nightclub if I had the chance.
“Hi. I’m Ligaya!”
She has to scream to be heard. Sean gives her his big boyish grin that he saves for the puck bunnies. With zero subtlety, I shove myself between Sean and Ligaya. He can try to charm any woman in this bar, but this one is busy carrying my children.
“We’ve got a quieter spot upstairs,” Gordon says to Ligaya. “Come hang out with us.”
“My friends are down here,” she says.
“Bring them.”
That’s how two very different groups blend into one clumsy, glitter-stained parade up the stairs and into the VIP lounge.
The second we enter, I’m pulled to talk to PR folks and sponsors.
“Do your thing, Tristan. I’ll see you later.”
She walks away, hips swaying. I make the rounds as quickly as I can before joining Ligaya on a velvet bench.
“Sorry about that. How are you?” I ask, squatting down to her level.
“Great! The lounges up here are way more comfortable. Can I ask you a favor? I can’t seem to get the bartender’s attention. Do you mind grabbing me a water, please?”
“On it.”
I head to the bar, squeezing past two people in LED bunny ears and some girl aggressively twerking. The bartender’s swamped, so I post up, trying to catch her eye. When she glances in my direction, I point to the Fiji water in her beverage fridge.
While I wait, Marnie Kensington, head of the ticketing office, sidles up to me.
“Having fun, Tristan?” she asks with a slight slur. Her hand rests on my forearm.
“Yeah. You?” I crank my neck to see where the bartender went. How hard is it to get a freaking bottle of water? For fuck’s sake, there’s a pregnant woman who needs to hydrate!
“Better now,” she purrs, looping her arm around mine. “The countdown is in a few minutes. Care to join me?”
“I’m here with someone,” I say, gently untangling from her clutches.
A voice cuts through the haze behind me. “He’s taken. Trust me.” It’s Toby with his impeccable timing.
I mouth thank you to him and walk past Marnie. The opening to the bar is up, so I slip by to grab the cold bottle myself.
“Hey!” It’s the slow bartender, finally willing to do her job.
“Put it on my tab,” I say flippantly before walking away.
“Thanks,” Ligaya says with a slight smile. She takes a sip, but her eyes follow my movement as I pull a chair to face her. I lean forward, elbows on my thighs so I can watch her closely. It’s been a long night, and I want to make sure she hasn’t overexerted herself.
“Are you tired?”
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“I took the best nap today.”
“The New Year is in a few minutes. Are we counting down together?”
“We don’t have to, if your dance card is full. You sure you don’t want to greet the New Year with someone more . . . available?”
She swipes her temple twice. I’m starting to realize Ligaya does that when she’s feeling either stressed or uncertain. Her tone’s cool, yet there’s tartness to her delivery.
“Are you jealous, sweetheart?” God, I’d love that.
“You wish.” Ligaya rolls her eyes and takes another sip.
The sheen of sweat on her chest makes her cleavage glisten. I wrest my gaze away from her body and make sure we’re eye to eye. Ligaya needs to know I’m serious.
“The only people on my dance card are these kids and their mama. That’s a pledge, Ligaya. I know you don’t see us as anything other than friends. I respect your choice. But if I’m being honest, all the complications you’re talking about are starting to feel worth it if I could just kiss you again.”
Her mouth opens but before she can respond, all of Axis screams through the countdown. “Ten, nine, eight . . .”
Ligaya’s face is a slideshow of emotions. Confused for a moment, and then contemplative.
“Seven, six, five . . .” The club continues while we simply stare at each other.
Her eyes soften and she stands to position herself between my knees. I don’t hesitate, wrapping my arms around the back of her thighs, locking her in. Ligaya wraps her arms over my shoulders and leans down.
“Four, three, two . . .” When midnight finally strikes, Ligaya kisses me.
I welcome her soft, eager lips. When she strokes my mouth with her tongue, there’s no holding back.
I stand and cradle her lower back and nape.
I lean in, devouring her deeper and harder. She tastes even better than I remember.
If I were a man who made New Year’s resolutions, mine would be this: Kiss Ligaya Torres and never stop.