CHAPTER 15 #4
“You want to explain why you were grabbing her like that?” Tristan asked, turning his attention back towards Joseph.
“I was just trying to talk to her. Tessa, who is this guy? Listen, mate, are you aware she was my girlfriend for 6 years?”
“Jesus Christ,” Tristan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. “Don’t fucking remind me.”
“Tristan, can we just go back to our table, please? I really don’t want to deal with this.”
“For fucks sake, Tessa, you won’t answer any of my calls or texts, and now you won’t speak to me when I run into you in the city we both live in? Come on!”
“She doesn’t live in New York right now,” Tristan says quickly. “She’s living in Kansas City, and you’re two seconds away from getting a restraining order. How often does he bother you?” Tristan turns to ask Tessa.
“Enough to get him blocked, especially after this,” she responds.
“Do it now.”
“What?” Tessa’s blue eyes look up at Tristan, but he doesn’t back down.
“Block his number. Go on.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she retorts, but the words come out weak and unsure. She is very much fine with Tristan telling her to block Joseph’s number, and something about his alpha male possessiveness always turned Tessa on, but for some reason she couldn’t let him know that.
Joseph snickers from behind Tristan and lifts his drink to his smirking lips.
“I knew it,” he whispered as he takes a drink, causing Tessa to take a step forward.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I knew you wouldn’t stay away for long. I mean, you can’t even block my number.”
“Oh please,” Tessa rolls her eyes and angrily grips her phone, unlocking it, and finding Joseph’s contact. “I hate that you’re both making me give into your bullshit pissing contest.”
“Aint no contest here, Tess,” Tristan said, putting his hand on the small of her back and urging her forward. “Let’s go.”
She gives him a glare but relents, and starts heading back to their table, eyes still focused on completing the task on her phone.
Tristan gives one more glare over his shoulder to Joseph, keeping his large hand planted firmly on Tessa’s back, not at all shocked that the delicate looking man standing there bewildered had no idea who he was.
The group had spent nearly an hour more at the table for dinner, Tessa immediately leaning into Amber the second she returned to her seat and word vomiting about her encounter with Joseph.
Tessa kept her back towards Tristan for the most part, feeling somewhat vulnerable and embarrassed by the very public altercation with her ex, but he stayed firmly planted next to her at the table, his presence solid and unwavering.
Every part of her was screaming to jump into his arms, burrow into his strong, warm, hairy chest and never come back up for air.
But her pride and ego kept her back towards him until the very last second, until everyone at the table started heading back to the hotel for curfew.
Tessa and Amber stood up from the table, and Tessa immediately felt Tristan’s hand on the small of her back again, causing an intense shiver to shoot up her spine.
“You’re not staying at the hotel,” Tristan said. It was a statement, not a question, since he had very intentionally tried to find out where her room was, only to be told she was staying off site.
“No, I’m staying in my apartment,” she said, smoothing down her dress, avoiding eye contact. “Since, you know, I live here and everything.”
“Well, you’re here for the game, but you’re living in Kansas City.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night,” she responded with a dramatic sigh.
“Don’t be a brat,” he said, and her eyes instantly flew up to his. “Just because your ex is a pretentious asshole doesn’t mean you need to take it out on me.”
She sighed and hung her head, feeling ashamed at how much she kept hurting him over the past few days. It was a huge issue she’s had over the years – when her pride or ego is threatened, she becomes haughty and defensive.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I was hoping you’d be at the hotel,” his deep voice cuts back to the original subject, and he gently guides her over to the side of the room, away from prying ears. “I’d like to spend more time with you. I don’t like that you’re icing me out.”
“I’m not trying to ice you out,” she replies quietly. “I just don’t know how far this can go; how far this should go.”
“And why is that?”
“Tristan,” she breathes out his name in a long and exasperated sigh, her blue eyes shining with fresh tears and vulnerability. “We’ve already crashed and burned and ended up broken hearted and bitter. Do you really think it’s a good idea to go for round two?”
“We were kids then,” he says with a shrug. “20-year-old kids who fell in love but didn’t know what to do with it.”
Tessa felt her cheeks blush at the mention of them being in love, and she wrapped her arms around herself to find some comfort in the tension-filled moment.
“You should get some rest, big game tomorrow,” Tessa said, starting to walk away, but Tristan blocked her with his large stance.
“Are you saying you don’t still feel this?”
“Damnit, of course I do,” she replied defeatedly.
“It feels just as intense. Actually, it feels more intense. Don’t tell me I’m crazy and making that up.”
“You’re not,” she whispers, keeping her eyes on her black boots, scuffing them nervously on the floor.
“So then stop fighting me, please,” he begs, not afraid to let his voice border on a whimper, feeling every cell in his body being pulled undeniably toward her.
The force was becoming too much for him to bare, and he was seconds away from throwing her over his shoulder and taking her back to his hotel, game night rules be damned.
“Trist! Curfew’s in 10!” Phillip yelled from across the room, and Tessa immediately started walking away. Always a rule follower and a people pleaser, the last thing she wanted was to get Tristan in trouble, again.
“Please just go back with the team and rest up for the game tomorrow. We can talk when we’re back in Kansas City.”
He sighs and hangs his head low, the internal struggle to be with Tessa every second that he can making walking away nearly impossible.
“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Tess.”
“Night, Trist.”
As Tristan walks away, Amber rushed up to Tessa and stood on her tippy toes to look into her eyes and said “You’re on thin ice, Smith. Fuck that man or we can no longer be friends.”
Tessa rolled her eyes and grabbed her friend’s hand.
“That man is going to be the death of me.”