Chapter 18 #2
A shudder went through me. They all still hung out? Did they talk about me? Had they looked me up? And did they still say nasty things about me, maybe even my clothing, my fashion line?
Was there a chance Tristan really knew who I was and he was just playing his own game?
Oh, God, this whole night was a total nightmare. What had I been thinking agreeing to this? I needed to talk to my sisters. I needed to get out of here.
A light knock sounded at the door. "You good?" Tristan asked. "Are the clothes okay?"
He didn't wait for a response, just opened the door a little, making me jump back from his memento wall like I was guilty of something. Which I wasn't. He was.
The adrenaline coursing through my limbs made me shaky, but it also did the unexpected—it gave me sudden resolve to power through the rest of this night.
I'd keep up my strategy, then go home and regroup, talk to Annalise and Aria, maybe even check with Ethan and see if he could do some more investigating, to once again make sure Tristan wasn't the one deceiving me.
Tristan's eyes swept up and down my form, not for the first time tonight, and then a smile lit up his face. "I like it. You can wear my clothes any time you want to."
I had no idea what to say, still breathing deeply, trying to get over the shock of seeing my old bullies on his wall.
His eyes narrowed. "You good?"
Quickly, I nodded. I had to channel my inner actress and pretend like everything was hunky-dory.
His brows came together even more, and he opened his mouth to say something.
A loud voice came from down the stairs, interrupting him. "You guys are taking forever. At this rate, I'll be old enough to drink by the time the movie starts."
Tristan gave me an eye-roll, a wry smile on his face, while I said a silent thank you to Archie for giving me a moment to gather myself.
"Ready?" I asked, striding forward, doing my best to put everything behind me and forge ahead.
"Ready."
Still with my silly mask on, I walked downstairs holding my pant legs up so I didn't trip on them, kind of wondering how I'd gotten myself into this mess. My life had been just fine before, and I wasn't sure why I'd let things get so wild and out of control.
The smell of popcorn permeated the air, and we followed the scent to find that Archie had already made himself comfortable, sitting in a large recliner with a huge bucket in his lap. He tossed back a handful then spoke.
"What took you so long? Was Tristan trying to impress you by doing pushups again?"
Taking a seat on the couch, a laugh slipped out of me. "No. No pushups."
"Good. Although I guess that's better than stalking you like we did a couple of weeks ago."
My head snapped around to look at the man in question. "What?"
Standing on the other side of the coffee table, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together for a moment. "I—well, Jesus, Archie. That was just—uh, just—"
The man was totally flustered, and it made me smile in triumph as I watched him carefully. So had he fallen for that little hint I'd left him and gone on a wild goose chase?
He came around and sat down on the couch, a good foot away from me, and took a slow breath, running a hand through his thick hair. I could have sworn he was blushing. Tristan Hawthorne was capable of blushing?
"Listen," he said, his eyes finally meeting mine. "So yeah, you mentioned you'd be going to a fashion event, and I kind of indulged in a little light stalking."
I nodded, trying to rein in the satisfaction that gave me, because maybe this thing was working after all.
"I just wanted to see you," he said, his voice low. "I was desperate for even a glimpse of you."
Ha!
Archie tossed a piece of popcorn at him. "Dude, that's so cringe."
Tristan's phone rang, and he glanced at the screen, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown.
"Who is it?" Archie asked.
"Unknown number."
"You should totally get it. You never know."
Tristan shrugged and answered, the voice on the other end so loud and enthusiastic I could hear every word.
"Hello! This is Blake from Elite Escape Cruises, and I have an exclusive invitation for you. We're offering a VIP luxury cruise experience for successful gentlemen and their refined companions. Since you expressed interest at the sugar daddies event in Miami last month, we're giving you—"
"Excuse me? What?" Tristan blurted, his tone pitching up in disbelief. "Did you just say I signed up at a sugar daddy event?"
Archie laughed so loudly, I had trouble hearing the poor woman's reply. But I did catch a few words, something about first access and a small deposit to secure a suite.
I couldn't believe my luck. When Ethan had said he was going to sign Tristan up for every spammy cruise contest he could find, mentioning that the people who made the calls were absolutely relentless, I hadn't known what to expect. But I was here right now to witness it firsthand!
"Shall I go ahead and reserve that for you?" she asked, ever cheerful.
Tristan exhaled sharply. "No. No, thank you. I will never, and I mean never, be interested in this cruise. Okay? So please, I am begging you, please remove me from your list. In fact, remove me from all your lists. And while you're at it, tell your affiliates to erase my existence too."
And with that, he hung up, looking in disbelief from my face to Archie's, the two of us not even bothering to hold in our laughter.
"I have no idea how these people got my number, but I swear, if I get one more call inviting me on a cruise I didn't sign up for, I'm throwing this phone into the river."
His exasperated tone only succeeded in making us laugh harder.
"I have half a mind to call your buddy Ethan Locke to see if he can get to the bottom of this," he declared.
Oh, my God, if he only knew.
"That's a good idea," I sputtered out.
His eyes focused in on me. "How do you know him anyway?"
"Ethan?" Crap. I had to play this off. "Oh, I don't even remember how we met. We go way back."
He grunted, clearly not loving my answer and still put out from the phone call.
"Do you have history together?" he asked, his brows raised meaningfully.
"History?"
His eyes flicked to Archie, and I realized what he was asking and why he was asking it in that subtle way. A laugh escaped me, because Tristan didn't seem to like the idea of Ethan and me being together one bit.
I decided to let him off the hook, though. "No. There is no history between the two of us. We're just pals and always have been." Well, we were more recent pals, but I wasn't going to get into all of that.
"Okay. Good."
"Are you two ready already?" Archie asked "I'm literally halfway through my popcorn."
Without waiting for an answer, he pressed play on the movie, and we were off. Lions and tigers and zombies, oh my. Never in my life had I seen so many undead creatures in a movie. Unless you counted vampires. I'd seen a few vampire love stories. Oh, and a zombie romance too.
But this? This was nothing like that. Just pure gore and grossness.
I tried to focus on it. I really did. But the snow falling beyond the windows and blanketing the city was way more beautiful than anything on the screen. And my mind kept wandering back to that memory board in Tristan's room, then to dinner, then the massage, then back to the photos.
The penthouse was warm, Tristan's gas fireplace a thing of beauty as the flames flickered and crackled softly, and my clothes were so incredibly cozy. If I wasn't so amped up on adrenaline, it would have been the perfect setting for a nice winter nap.
But I kept thinking about this man sitting next to me, whose focus seemed to waver between Archie, the screen, and me, settling on me the most... especially... wait, was he looking at my toes?
I'd propped them up on the edge of the coffee table, the long legs of the sweats covering most of my feet, with just the tips of my bright pink painted toes peeking out.
Maybe it wasn't the best manners to have my feet there, but Tristan had done it first, although he had socks on.
Testing my theory, that he was watching them, I wiggled my toes, and sure enough, his jaw tensed before his eyes darted back to the screen.
Oh, this was good.
Suppressing a smile, I let my focus drift back to the movie, determined to endure the next ninety minutes or so of zombie chaos. Then, just as I settled in, I felt it.
A hand.
More specifically, his hand, sliding against mine on the couch.
It was subtle. Careful. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if I'd pull away.
I didn't. After all, this was the sort of connection I needed to encourage.
His fingers brushed against mine, lingering before his palm finally settled against the back of my hand. It was warm, steady, strong.
Deciding to flip my hand over, our palms made contact, and I heard his intake of breath. Yeah, I'd felt that electric sizzle between us, the same thing that had happened our night together.
Not that it mattered anymore.
He slipped his fingers through mine, the gesture incredibly sensual and intimate somehow. And his thumb began to make slow circles on the back of my hand, sending tingles of pleasure up and down my spine.
Damn. I should be focusing on the plan, not how my hand was starting to feel like it belonged in his. What was I doing?
Before I could react—before I could think about if and how I wanted to react—Archie's voice broke through the moment.
"Aww, look how cute you two are, holding hands," he teased, tossing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. "I hope you don't get any ideas, though. My big brother definitely has commitment issues."
"I don't have commitment issues," Tristan grumbled, pulling his hand away to grab a throw pillow and chuck it at the teen's head.
Archie batted it away effortlessly. "Uh-huh. Sure. That's what all the emotionally unavailable millionaires say."
I bit my lip, barely holding back a laugh as Tristan rolled his eyes.
The movie grabbed our attention once more, and a split second later, Tristan's hand was back, firmly clasping mine. And this time, he didn't let go.