31. Aria
31
ARIA
T he common room fell silent when I walked in, only for the whispers to start up again almost instantly.
“Is it true?”
“Tristan never has a girlfriend. There’s no way.”
“They hate each other.”
“Tristan wouldn’t.”
“She wore his lacrosse jersey to the game.”
I sighed, ignoring the speculation as I stalked into the room, my eyes fixed on a certain smirking god sprawled out in a huge leather wingback chair in the centre of the room. Because of course he had to be the centre of attention.
Reaching him, I swung myself onto his thighs, gripping his shoulders as I slammed my mouth down on his. He laughed against me, his arms wrapping around my back and pulling me closer.
“I was gonna stake my claim, but I guess you got there first.” He kissed the tip of my nose, somehow managing to keep a ridiculously wide grin on his face. My heart skipped a beat.
Oh no. Please. I could not be finding his smugness attractive.
What had this man done to me? He’d scrambled my brains, turned me inside out, and honestly, I couldn’t even bring myself to care.
“Shut up and kiss me again,” I instructed.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly fucking bossy?” Sliding his mouth across mine, he kissed me softly, sweetly.
“Tristan.”
“Aria.” He studied me for a second and then winked at me like an absolute bellend. That was the only warning I got before he suddenly gripped my hips, manhandling me around to face the room with my back to his chest. He pressed another soft kiss to my hair and then cleared his throat. “Yes, everyone. The rumours are true. I am indeed off the market, thanks to the delectable Aria Rose Harper.”
“How did you know my middle name?”
“It was your mum’s name, and you were named after her. I know these things about you.” He kissed my cheek and then continued to address the room. “I apologise for the inevitable broken hearts, but how could I resist this woman?”
“I was sure you hated each other,” one of his former conquests piped up, and I sighed.
“Things change. We’re together now. Boyfriend and girlfriend. A couple.”
“But—”
Tristan held up his hand. “This is not a Q and A session. We’re together, and we’re happy. Very, very happy.”
There was no possible way I could hold back my smile after his firmly stated words. I placed my hand over the top of his, squeezing lightly.
“Baby. I think I need to leave some more marks on your throat, just to get the point across.”
My breath hitched, and I shifted on his thighs.
“Do I get to do the same to you?” My voice betrayed me, coming out way too breathless.
“Yeah, if you want.” He gripped my thigh, stilling me. “Do you realise you’re giving me a boner right now?”
I shifted again. “I’m aware. I can feel it.”
“Fuck, Aria.” He exhaled harshly. “Want to get out of here?”
“Okay, pay up. Who had the lacrosse game?”
Tristan’s head jerked up, and I followed his stare to where Tyrell was standing in front of the TV screen, holding out his hand.
“What the fuck?” I murmured.
Blaine huffed loudly from his position on one of the sofas, waving his controller in the air. “I had the end of exams party.”
“Me and Ro bet on today.” Knox glanced over at us and smirked.
“I repeat, what the fuck?”
“Yeah.” Tristan clicked his fingers loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “What the fuck are you all talking about?”
Tyrell pulled a large handful of notes from his pocket, fanning them out. I noticed several fifties in the collection. “We were betting on when the two of you would get together.”
“Yeah, but Roman and Knox are disqualified because they had insider information,” Lincoln pointed out. I stared around the room. Were all their friends in on this bet? Wait, were my friends in on it? Glancing over at Quinn, I found her already looking at me. She was clearly amused, but she quickly shook her head when I caught her eye. I didn’t know , she mouthed, and I smiled.
“I can’t believe my own friends bet on me,” Tristan muttered as Knox and Roman began arguing that their bets still counted, Tyrell shaking his head insistently.
Twisting on my boyfriend’s lap, I met his gaze. “How did they have insider information?”
He bit down on his lip. “Uh, maybe it was because of the necklace? They knew I had it and I wanted to give it to you. If you hadn’t come to the lacrosse game…”
“I did.” I cupped his jaw. “I still can’t quite believe this is real, but I’m so happy.”
“Me too.” Running his hand through my hair, he leaned forwards to kiss me again. “So happy.”
A throat cleared close to us.
“He was moping around all week before you agreed to be his girlfriend.”
“Our sad boy. He was miserable without you.”
Tristan threw up his middle finger at his two best friends. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to take the piss out of me?”
“Nah. You told us you wanted to stay single. Repeatedly. This is fucking momentous, mate. We need a burial ceremony or something for the old manwhore Tristan Smith-Chamberlain.”
“Yeah. There’s that big tomb in the crypts?—”
“Fuck. Off.”
They finally wandered away, laughing to themselves, and Tristan pulled me into him, burying his face in my hair. “I guess they have the right to take the piss. I did insist I’d never end up like them. But you and me…it feels like we were inevitable, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. “Yes. I think we were always inevitable.”