Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SEEMS LIKE THE B-LISTER’S CHRISTMAS WAS INTERESTING IN A NEW WAY
GREER
Iremember when I used to wish my life wasn’t so bland.
Now I’ve had a taste of spice, and guess what?
It burns.
It burns so damn bad.
Hurt coated Tripp’s face at my words, and it killed me to see—even if it was his own fault.
I could’ve been okay. Not good. Not happy.
But okay. There’d been no discussion of monogamy.
Hell, I’d been the one to add the stipulation that it was just physical because I wasn’t looking for anything more.
We weren’t together. We liked each other, sure.
But at the end of the day, we were fuck buddies.
If he wanted to spread that kind of friendship across the land, that was his prerogative.
But I drew the line at lying. I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
Tripp dropped his head, and I thought it was with guilt. Our sexual arrangement wasn’t salvageable, but if he would apologize, maybe there was hope for our professional one. But he wasn’t taking an introspective moment.
He was reading. He picked up the paper, his brows lowering as his lip curled. “I didn’t write this shit.”
“Maybe you were under the influence.”
“No. I didn’t write it. It doesn’t even sound like me.
I barely used Kaya when I had it because the whole thing was underwhelming and exhausting.
I wasn’t sending messages like this. I’m not some desperate incel perv.
” He grabbed the rest of the stack, sorting it into two piles with what I guessed were the duplicates getting tossed aside.
He was halfway through when he slammed one down. “There. Look.”
I skimmed the horny messages as stomach acid ate away at my insides like toxic sludge. “Wow. Thank you for making me see this.”
He quickly tapped the upper corner of a particular cheesy text. Tripp had always been good at saying deliciously naughty things that sent heat through me. Apparently, he didn’t expend the creative effort in hookup apps. “Right here.”
I dragged my focus to the label. “Yeah, I get it. It was before we started messing around. I already said that.”
“This was the day I filmed all the promo for Old Flame.”
“Okay?” He’d also invited me to dinner that night, and I’d almost given in. It seemed he’d found a different way to occupy his time.
“This was while I was filming. You had my phone all day.”
I rocked back on my heels.
He was right. Even when he came to me or I went to him during breaks, he never took his cell when I offered it. There was no way he could’ve sent the messages.
Tripp pushed one pile closer. “These are mine.”
I skimmed through them. There weren’t any corny pickup lines. No badly phrased naughtiness as he tried to force sexting to happen. There was very little effort at all in his short messages. Like he claimed, his boredom came across in the lackluster texts.
They were nothing like the ones he sent me, asking about my day or saying something filthy-sweet.
He pushed the much larger pile closer. “None of these are mine.”
Those were in stark contrast to what he’d sent. The messages were long. Whoever tried to play it up like the cool actor, but their neediness was evident as they pushed for returned dirty talk and nudes. It was gross.
“Where’s your phone?” I asked.
Tripp stood and grabbed it from near the sink before handing it to me. I unlocked it and went to his account, pressing the little button to redownload the dating app.
“You still don’t believe me?” he asked softly, his brows lowered as he watched what I was doing. He made no effort to snatch back the phone or anything dodgy that would come across as guilty or sneaky. He just looked like he was trying to figure out what else he could do to prove his innocence.
It was unnecessary. “I do. But that means someone else is pretending to be you, and who knows what they’re doing and saying.”
“It happens a lot,” he pointed out. “There’s a few dozen Tripp Carters sending bullshit Instagram messages to fans or creating Facebook pages to track my life. I gave up trying to get them shut down and focused on the actual stalkers, not the cyber ones.”
I lowered his phone. “You have actual stalkers?”
I wasn’t surprised. There were a lot of crazies in the world. But his lax security when there was a history was concerning.
“Had,” Tripp corrected. “We took her to court, and that pretty much killed the delusion.”
“That you know of. Is there any chance she’s behind this?”
His mouth curved down as he mulled it over before shaking his head. “I haven’t heard a word from her since the trial, but I’ll have Easton or Atlas look into it to be safe.”
“Good idea.” I handed Tripp his phone, and he sent off two texts before using his biometrics to log into Kaya for me. Once he handed it back, I paced around as I searched through the options and menus.
It was elaborate for a glorified hookup app. The amount of certification required to even get an account was surprising.
Restless and on edge, I kept walking through the house as I continued my virtual inspection before stopping short.
What the hell?
Tripp had mentioned to the police that he’d left a construction crew at the house and couldn’t guarantee they’d rearmed the security system or even locked all the doors when they were done.
My focus had been on the dirty messages I’d thought were from him and the potential break-in.
I hadn’t gotten the chance to ask what work he had done.
But it was obvious.
His open floor plan between his living room and game room had been split, but not by a wall. It was a floor to ceiling bookshelf. Angular and cool, the open style allowed for more storage without making the space seem smaller—not that it was possible, but still.
Some of my textbooks I’d left were on the shelves, along with my pens and sticky notes. If I was at my usual spot on the couch, I could easily reach back to grab them.
I spun around to see Tripp watching me.
His arms were folded across his broad chest, and a small smile curved his mouth. “You said I needed more surfaces.”
It was such a throwaway comment, I hadn’t expected Tripp to even remember it, much less do something about it.
“I meant, like, one of those little folding tray tables or something.” I threw my arm out. “Not this.”
“You don’t like it? I’ll have them come redo it.”
“Don’t you dare.”
The style was really unique and elevated the interior, along with being functional. It was gorgeous and thoughtful and entirely unnecessary.
I ran a finger across a shelf as I rounded it to go into the living room. It took a lot of effort, but I dragged my focus back to the phone in my hand.
I toggled through the options before finally finding where to deactivate the account.
I turned the screen toward Tripp. “I’m pretty sure that if you deactivate it on your end, it will cut off whoever’s accessing it, too. But I might be wrong. The other thing is, if you deactivate, there will be no way for anyone to track who the imposter is.”
He didn’t hesitate. He pressed the screen twice to confirm his choice to close his account on the dating app for the high-profile elite.
And then he pulled me into his arms.
“Tripp—”
His hold tightened as his jaw clenched. “Who am I?”
“Sir. I…” My words trailed off. I couldn’t force anything out. At the authoritative way he handled me, every muscle in my body seemed to unclench in an instant, and my chest finally loosened enough that I could take a full breath.
“I’m sorry you had to see all of that,” he rumbled with his lips against the top of my head.
“It’s not your fault.” A new spiral of guilt infused the existing one in my belly. “I’m sorry I thought you were a dickhead.”
“I usually am.”
“You’re not. I was just shocked. And confused. Today was… a lot. I’m tired.”
“Let’s go to bed.”
I let him steer me up the stairs and into his bedroom before standing still so he could undress me with tender kisses and reassuring touches. My emotions were still a chaotic tangle, but I was too exhausted to sort through them. I was too exhausted to do more than let Tripp take care of me.
Once I was back in his tee, I climbed into bed.
And was immediately jabbed in the ass.
I reached behind me and pulled out a wrapped box with a pretty green bow on top.
“You can open that tomorrow.” Tripp tried to pluck it from my hold.
I immediately snatched it closer to my chest. With the way the night had taken such a drastic turn, I’d completely forgotten why I’d gone downstairs to begin with.
“You’re tired, baby.” There was a forced severity in his tone as he fought a smile and went for the present again.
“I’ve got a little energy.”
His gray eyes heated, and a tremble rippled down my spine.
I took advantage of his momentary distraction and rolled away to put some distance between us, nearly toppling to the floor.
He caught me in time and righted me on the mattress. “I guess I better let you open that before you hurt yourself.”
“That would be a good idea.”
He sat back to watch as I carefully unwrapped the pretty paper to find a velvet jewelry box. When I opened it, I lost my breath.
The wide bracelet was gorgeous. It wasn’t overly flashy or too elegant for everyday wear. It was simple yet stunning.
“Turn it over,” Tripp ordered.
I picked it up and did as he said to reveal a small cluster of diamonds.
Maybe not for everyday wear, after all…
I was wrong about the cluster, too. It wasn’t a random grouping. They were carefully arranged to resemble a buckle.
Like the intimidating ones on Gilded’s cuffs.
He got me a restraint bracelet.
The already gorgeous piece of jewelry would’ve been enough, but the little detail that made it personal took it to a completely different level.
“I love it,” I breathed, more of the negativity from the long day ebbing from my body. I threw myself across the mattress to tackle him down before straddling his torso. Holding his face, I kissed him hard but fast. “I love it so much.”
“I’m glad, siren.”
And then I rolled again until I was standing beside the bed. Tripp looked disgruntled at the turn of events, but I didn’t give him the chance to object. Or, more likely, to yank me down.
I rushed from the room to retrieve his present from the overnight bag that was still next to the stairs.
That time, without the crushing printouts to distract me.
When I returned to his room, he was propped against the headboard, waiting for me. My steps slowed, both because I wanted to admire the view and because my earlier doubts returned to sink low in the abyss that used to be my stomach.
The man had a bookshelf built because of one comment I’d made. That attention to detail was already its own kind of present, but then he’d topped it by giving me a restraint bracelet.
And all I had was a cheesy gift.
I tempered his expectations. “This is just a little something.”
“Give it over.”
I didn’t. I held it tighter. “And it’s kind of stupid.”
“Greer.”
“And by kind of, I mean a lot.”
His biting tone was firm. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
I hurriedly passed it to him, babbling away because my filter was in bed for the night.
“It’s very corny and nowhere near as good as what you got me.
Which you didn’t even have to get me anything, but I appreciate it.
And I’m totally not expecting you to do anything with this, it was just a dumb idea I had. ”
As I rambled, Tripp unwrapped the paper to reveal a hardcover book. He flipped open the pages before freezing.
His muscular shoulders bunched as he stared down at the picture.
The silence stretched and stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore.
My words came out stilted as I reiterated, “Like I said, it was just a dumb idea I had, but you don’t have to keep it or anything.”
His gaze finally rose to meet mine, and for the second time in the short span, I lost my breath. There was so much intensity in his stare, it was almost hard to look at.
But I couldn’t tear my focus away.
“This is the best present I’ve ever received,” Tripp said with nothing but unbridled truth in his voice. “Greer, this is… Wow.”
He looked back down at the coffee table book I’d had printed of his photography, flipping through before pausing on the picture of me on the roof.
I’d also included the one in his living room.
I’d left out the one from my interview since it wasn’t exactly my best angle.
But even I had to admit that the rooftop one in the dim lighting was beautiful.
I fidgeted with my hair. “I honestly think you can publish that. I mean, not that specific one. The quick print service I used isn’t the best quality, but your photographs are so good, it makes up for it.”
“Come here.”
“And I can always have it printed with a better—”
“Now, Greer.”
I hurried over and climbed into bed. Tripp didn’t give me the chance to settle before pulling me to straddle him.
Unlike mine, his kiss wasn’t fast. It was brutal and bruising and lengthy until I was a writhing mess.
I whimpered as he pulled away to push my hair from my face.
“I meant what I said. This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you, siren.”
“You’re welcome, Sir.”
I was hoping he would continue touching me to ease some of the need that he’d built, but he didn’t.
After carefully setting the book on the side table, he turned off the lamp and positioned me with my restless body tight to his. My exhaustion turned my limbs to heavy weights as I sank into the comfortable bed.
Into him.
But sleep was hard to find. My brain was a whirl of activity, bouncing between what had happened and what I’d thought had happened.
It’d taken everything in me to tell myself I was okay with it.
That it was his lies that angered me. I was relieved that he hadn’t been lying.
But I was more relieved that he also wasn’t talking to other women.
Deep down, I knew the clock on our arrangement was running down.
He would move on.
And I needed to do better at remembering what we were.