Chapter Fourteen
KILLIAN
D amn it.
I instructed Max to keep a discreet distance behind Trissa’s car as he followed her home. There was no fucking way I was letting her go off on her own. I needed to get my head on straight. I attributed this deep-seated need to keep her safe as the fallout for almost kissing her tonight and for believing for a second she might return my long-bottled-up feelings
She pulled into a parking lot of a tall building about eight stories high. The structure was older, its gray facade faded. Outside, I spotted overgrown bushes that could easily hide someone. This place was too open and way too accessible for my comfort level. Is this where she lived now?
My blood boiled. There were no security measures that I could see. No cameras at the door or anywhere else on the property, and the lighting in the parking lot was dim, thanks to most of the antiquated bulbs being burnt out. Tris wouldn’t know if someone hid in the shadows until she was practically on top of them.
Max looked at me via the rearview mirror.
“Stay until she’s inside,” I demanded.
I watched her exit her car, toss her work bag and purse over her shoulder, and march straight for the sidewalk that led to her building. She fumbled with her phone as she took it out of her handbag.
My phone rang.
“Hi, Killian. I’m home,” Trissa’s voice was muffled as she fished her keys out of the cavernous bag and squeezed the device between her chin and shoulder.
“I said home safe. Meaning in your apartment,” I barely pushed out the words between clenched teeth.
Tris’s eyes darted around the parking lot. “I am.”
“You suck at lying, Tink.”
She grunted into the phone and mumbled something about overprotective jerks and to stop following her.
My eyes lingered on her perfect curves as she approached the building and faded into the shadows. Just as she was about to insert her key into the door, a young woman opened it and let her inside.
While Tris smiled her thanks, I fumed. And with each second that passed, my fury with her living situation grew. She lived in a building that clearly didn’t have any safety protocols in place to keep her from harm. I struggled to extinguish the flames of anger licking at my skin, sluicing through my veins like lava.
What was she thinking choosing a place like this? Peter had to pay her enough to live in a more secure building. Didn’t she see what I did? Was she in trouble financially?
I had fans that did crazy shit, and I imagined there were people stupid enough to love Peter in the same fucked up way. They could go for Tris to get to Peter.
Maybe it was time I had a conversation with the bastard. Trissa’s safety should be his number one priority, the asshole.
Trissa stayed on the phone until she got to her apartment and abruptly hung up. I know she didn’t see my car, but she suspected I was nearby, and it irritated her.
I texted Trissa.
KILLIAN
We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss our strategy. I’ll text you where.
It didn’t surprise me when she didn’t answer right away.
As I waited for her reply, I imagined all the things that could happen to Tris from her car to her apartment. She could be chloroformed. Kidnapped. Attacked.
I dialed a familiar number.
“Killian.” My assistant, Oliver Smee, greeted me.
“I need you to look into who owns a building for me and purchase it.” I rattled off the address. If she wasn’t going to choose an apartment with better safety measures, then I would make damn sure this one was up to my standards.
“I’m sorry, what?” His typically joyful tone dropped in confusion.
“Do it. Offer a fair price, but I’m willing to pay whatever I need to so that it’s mine. Call me when it’s done.” I hung up.
Smee was used to my bullshit.
“So you’re buying the building,” Max smirked.
“Shut the fuck up,” I warned. “I’m also pissed that you didn’t think to mention the state of her building after spending time here the other night.”
He shrugged, ignoring my anger. “So you and Trissa?—”
“Are nothing.”
Max’s chuckle only irritated me further.
I had to think of something else before I stormed Trissa’s building to discuss how much I hated her building. Of course, my fucking brain only had thoughts of Tink. Which led me to perseverating over her tonight at speed dating.
Every second of that event night had been torture for me.
As I watched her fumble through her first few ‘dates,’ my amusement was replaced by something darker, something I didn’t want to name or give life to. Each time one of those guys leaned in too close or made her laugh, my hand tightened around my glass.
I told myself it was just my protective instincts rearing its head.
But as the night wore on, that explanation felt increasingly hollow. Who was I kidding? I knew it was more than that. When she flashed that brilliant smile at the guy with the slicked-back hair, I had to resist the urge to walk over and punch him. And when that rosy blush appeared on her cheeks when another guy complimented her, it strangled every rational thought out of me.
I wanted to try to convince myself it was just the alcohol, but I knew it wasn’t. I’d barely finished my only drink of the night as I watched her.
I thought I’d kept myself under control, but then came Mason. Fucking Mason. He smiled at her, and I saw how her shoulders released the tension she’d been holding in and how she tentatively smiled back. When he took her hand, something inside me snapped. The beast that had been growling all night roared to life, demanding I go over and rip his arm off. When he kissed her delicate fingers I wanted to pull him into a dark alley and make sure he wasn’t heard from again.
I wasn’t jealous. I was looking out for her.
It took every ounce of self-control to force myself not to storm over to them like an envious lover and drag her out of there. Instead of ripping him apart, I channeled that energy into grabbing her elbow and practically forcing her to leave with me.
When I stepped out into the cool night air with Trissa tucked under my arm, the possessiveness inside me surged.
I slammed my fist down on the seat next to me. Why did I care? I needed her to be just someone I was helping out. Her talking to other guys shouldn’t make me want to destroy something and certainly not buy the building she was living in.
I had to stop this. Get far away from her. All these years of being out of her life had been torture, but this? It was a billion times worse.
I closed my eyes, unable to push away the memory of how she looked tonight, all nervous energy and sweet smiles. I tried to forget the way her eyes lit up when she laughed or how soft her skin felt when I touched her arm.
This was dangerous territory. Territory I’d sworn I’d never venture into again.
I shook my head in a sad attempt to banish those thoughts.
I was tired, that’s all. Exhausted and irritated that Tris lived in an unsafe place and didn’t seem to notice or care.
That’s why I was buying the building.
That’s why I couldn’t stop thinking of her.
That’s why I wanted to protect her.
I was concerned—as a good friend should be. It was my job to keep her safe. It had nothing to do with how my heart raced when she was near or how I couldn’t take my eyes off her all night.
Nothing at all.
The next afternoon, I met Tris at a quiet café, determined to keep things professional. But the moment she walked in with that sunshiny blonde hair up in a messy bun and bright shining eyes, I was singing the same song as before.
Max sat discreetly at a nearby table as my security team of one. I should have more units, but we’d contacted the owner of the café and contracted a few hours of alone time without other guests present.
“Hey,” she said, sliding into the seat across from me. “I was worried you might change your mind about helping me and bail after such a disastrous night.” Her gaze focused on the menu in front of her. But I knew she wasn’t reading it. Her eyes hadn’t moved from the same spot for the last few seconds.
“Why would I bail?” She looked up and I raised an eyebrow relishing how it made her cheeks flush. The old Trissa would have laughed at how ridiculous last night was without putting herself down.
“Because I was so awful, and you probably think I’m a lost cause. You were mad at me when we left.” She shrugged and I didn’t miss the tears that flashed in her eyes. “I’m guessing you realized all the reasons why Peter has never seen me as more than a friend.”
“I wasn’t angry,” I lied smoothly. “And you weren’t awful. Let’s talk about the event and create a plan.”
Tris groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It was … You were there. You know what happened. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Whenever I tried to talk to a guy, I became this babbling idiot.”
I chuckled, ignoring the way my chest tightened at her words. “You weren’t that bad. You were just nervous.”
She peeked at me through her fingers. “Killian, I told a guy I made stuff up and told another guy that I wanted to probe his brain for science. Who does that?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I’d known Tris was trying to make a joke, but it went way over her date’s head. It was time to forget the possessive feelings that raged through me last night. Today was about fulfilling the promise I’d made to her. “Okay, maybe you need a little work, but that’s why we’re here. To help you figure out how to make flirting easier for you.”
The words felt strange on my tongue, and I had to push away the possessiveness that threatened to overwhelm me. I hated that all this practice was to bring her closer to Peter.
The dick didn’t deserve her.
“Right,” Tris said, straightening up. “So, what do you think I should do differently after what you saw?”
I forced myself to think objectively. “You need to relax. You’re so tense; it makes the guys nervous, too. Think of it as a conversation, not a date. You can talk to anyone. I’ve seen it.” While Tris might seem shy now, she’d been the first to introduce herself to new people when we were kids. She had a spark inside of her.
And that spark was barely lit right now.
Fucking Peter.
Trissa nodded, hanging onto my words. She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and then typed in a word. “Okay, relax. Got it. What else?”
I snatched the phone out of her grip.
“Hey, give that back.” She leaned over the table to reach for her device, and I had to force my eyes away from the spot at the vee of her shirt and the hint of cleavage that was exposed.
“Nope.” I pocketed her phone. “You don’t need notes. You know all of this. I’m just reminding you to be the same fierce, friendly person I used to know.”
She crossed her arms.
Good. No reason to look now.
The waitress interrupted us to take our order, diffusing the light tension between us.
“Tink. You don’t need a step-by-step plan.”
She sighed. “But I liiiiike plans.”
“I know you do.” And for all of her impetuousness, I knew it truly happened after a lot of thought. Tris liked to be in control. So she’d internalize something, and when she acted, it seemed like an in-the-moment decision. But it wasn’t, not for her.
I wanted to bring back the core of who she was. It still pissed me off that Peter hadn’t noticed or cared that Tris had made herself small to be by his side.
She tapped her finger on the table. “Okay, I’m ready to hear the rest.”
“You could try some light touching,” I said, wanting to gag at the suggestion. “Nothing major, just a hand on their arm when you laugh. Like when Mason took your hand.” I had to draw in a breath and remind myself this was about Tris. Not me. “It relaxed you. That works for us, too. And use eye contact. Don’t shy away from that.”
Last night I reacted on instinct. Buying her building—or at least having my offer accepted. Feeling possessive. Forgetting that keeping her safe was not my job.
Today was a new day. I had to remember why I was doing this. Guilt and freedom were my goals. She never should’ve been on the yacht when the boat raid occurred. She deserved more than a basic apology from me. And hopefully by participating in this farce I’d finally purge her from my heart. It was a win-win.
This decision to help her had nothing to do with the flash of hurt in her eyes and the pain of sadness that tightened her jaw when she recounted the despair she felt when I walked away from her and never looked back.
“Like this?” Trissa reached out and placed her hand on my forearm. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I had to resist the urge to jerk away or pull her closer. I’d just about forgotten that I’d told her to use light touches with dates and we were practicing that.
“Yeah,” I managed, my voice rougher than I intended. “Exactly.”
She let go of my arm and sipped the coffee the waitress had just filled.
“Okay,” I said, leaning forward. “Eye contact.”
Tris nodded eagerly, her blue gaze fixed on mine. I swallowed hard, unable to look away. Maybe she already had the eye contact thing down.
“The key is to hold it just long enough to show interest but not so long that it becomes creepy,” I explained.
“Got it.” Tris’s eyes locked with mine, and suddenly, the café seemed to fade away. They were wide and curious. Flecks of green mingled in her deep blue orbs.
I’d forgotten about that. There was a time when I knew everything about Tris.
The crinkles in her face deepened as she smiled. The urge to trace her skin lightly like a feather overtook me and I had to sit on my hands.
This right here was the girl I’d fallen for so long ago. The one who easily made me feel important with just a glance. Like I could take on the world.
This light, unpracticed flirting of hers stretched my control to its limit. Her pouty lips parted and her tongue darted out to lick the bottom one.
Damn it. I stifled a groan. That was the last thing I needed right now.
Tris was in love with Peter. I needed the reminder like I needed the effects of a cold shower. Her eyes softened, as though she saw through my hardened exterior to the bottled up emotions warring for dominance inside me. After what felt like an eternity, Tris blinked and looked away. “Was that too long?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. “No, that was… It was good.”
She beamed, and I had to resist the urge to reach out and caress her face. Instead, I forced myself to move on to another topic. “Let’s talk about body language.”
She frowned. “I’m awkward. When it’s just Peter and me, I’m fine, but the second I try to make myself sexier or try to get his attention, it becomes weird.”
I stiffened, at Peter’s name, reminding myself this was ultimately why we were here. “Note you used the word try. Don’t. You shouldn’t have to. It’s all about showing interest. Lean in slightly when he’s talking, like you’re doing now. Turn your body towards him.” If I kept bringing it back to Peter then maybe my mind would get the hint.
Tris shifted in her seat, angling herself directly towards me. Her knee brushed mine under the table, making me even more aware of her body. Heat burned at every minor point of contact and I realized the teenage hormones that worshipped her had progressed into something far less suitable for our lesson.
I nodded. “Yeah. Perfect. You can use touch to show that you’re interested. Up until now, I’m sure whenever you touched Peter, it was more friendly versus sexy.” Saying his name scratched at my throat like I’d swallowed a box of nails.
“Okay. You’re right.” I could practically see her brain taking all this in and creating a path forward in her seduction. “So if I …” She reached for my arm again. “Hold on, this is awkward.” Tris scooted out of the booth and slid onto the bench seat next to me. She sat so close, her lavender scent was lulling me into a false sense of security.
What was she doing? “Tris?”
“No, listen. It’s not the same sitting across from each other. It’s better if we’re side-by-side. Like this.” She inched over to me until our thighs touched. Her fingertips lightly skimmed up my bare forearm and rested on the curve of my bicep, and the world shifted beneath me. I’d craved a touch like this from her for longer than I could remember.
Why hadn’t I worn long sleeves?
We stayed like that for longer than what was probably appropriate for practice. Neither of us moving. The air was saturated and heavy with unspoken words and barely contained emotions.
Holy fuck. This was torture.
When her eyes met mine, I couldn’t look away. When her tongue darted out and licked her bottom lip again, I traced the path in my mind, wondering what she’d taste like. My breathing picked up.
I needed to stop whatever the fuck this was.
“We should talk about conversation topics.” My voice had a hard edge to it as I tried to get myself under control. I shifted so her hand dropped away from me.
“What kind of topics do you suggest?” She stared, curiosity brimming in the blue depths. She’d clearly gotten the eye contact part of the lesson down.
I had to break the silence before my reaction to her touch became evident. “Light, fun topics at first,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Talk about what he likes to do, what he’s passionate about. Share funny stories you both relate to. Remind him of your shared history and the things you enjoy doing together. The goal is to keep things upbeat and personal.”
It was either use a generic ‘him’ instead of my ex-best friend’s name or hit it home and make sure we both remembered why we were here. My choice, while the better of the two evils, stroked the flames of my jealousy burning inside me. I’d erase his name from my vocabulary if I could.
With a wink, Trissa asked, “Do you come here often?” Her voice a throaty rumble.
Too late.
My dick, the traitorous bastard, stood up and took notice. My eyes traced the curve of her jaw, landing on the dip where her neck met her shoulder. I clamped my teeth together, fighting the urge to run them and my tongue down her exposed skin. A flash of heat consumed me as a light sheen of sweat gathered on my brow. I clenched my hands into fists and began mentally rearranging a piano version of Johannes Brahms Symphony No. 3. It had been a while since I last played a classical piece and I hoped it would be sufficient to distract me.
“Tink … ” My voice roughened.
She giggled, having no idea the effect she was having on me. “I probably need to say something different. I think Peter would look at me like I had two heads.”
His name on her lips was the bucket of ice thrown at me I needed. “Riiiight.”
She tapped a finger against her mouth, oblivious to the turmoil rioting under my skin at her nearness. “I meet with Peter and Wendy tomorrow.” Her mouth twisted as she said Wendy’s name. “I could try this out on him then.”
“Perfect.”
Perfectly awful. Peter didn’t deserve her.
She smiled. “Thank you, Killian. I appreciate your help more than you know.”
I grit my teeth, hoping my grimace passed for a smile. “I think this is a good start.” I drained the last of my coffee. “I should go. I have to be somewhere.”
“You do?” Her lips turned down into a frown, and my fingers twitched to smooth it out. I needed to remind myself that she loved Peter. I needed to get the fuck out of here before I said or did something I’d regret. And I needed time alone to build back the wall I’d created to keep an emotional distance from Tris. It had worked when we were teenagers.
Somehow, though, I doubted it would work now.
This was supposed to be all about me purging her from my system. The second I saw her romantically involved with Peter it would be enough to shut down the way I continued to feel about her. It had to. “Sorry, Tink. I should’ve mentioned it earlier.”
“It’s okay. So we’ll talk later, then?” She slipped out of the booth to allow me to get up.
I threw a few bills on the table, realizing it was too much for two coffees in addition to what I paid the owner to have an hour of privacy. Whatever. I stepped away. “I’ll text you tonight about the next lesson.”
She laid her hand on my arm and startled when I pulled away from her. Jesus, she was going to kill me if she continued to use me as her practice dummy.
“Is … uh … Should I do any homework or practice?” she asked.
I knew my abrupt standoffishness had jarred her. The purse of her lips and the tilt of her head conveyed that to me loud and clear. “Sure. Then you can report back to me later.” With a two-finger salute, I grabbed my leather jacket and bolted for the door.
I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. Where was the suave guy persona I had adopted? How had I let a little bit of eye contact and light touch unravel me?