We’ll watch a movie and relax and then go to our separate beds. That’s it.
I let out a croak when Triston’s car pulls up. It’s only been hours, but it feels like days.
He steps from the car in faded jeans and a hoodie, looking so handsome in his casual wear. My core gives an urgent flutter, as I walk over to him, my fingers twitching as though willing me to grab onto his arms.
“Thanks for coming,” I say.
He smirks tightly, as though he’s holding back a hundred unspoken things. “It’s no problem.”
I slip into the passenger side and Triston climbs in next to me. He turns, jaw jutted out, his eyes narrowed. “You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now.”
My lips and chest tingle warmly at his words. My lower half is sparking and hissing, my sex tickling with hints of wetness.
“We have to be good,” I whisper, forcing the words out.
“I know.” He starts the engine. “But it’s hard.”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
Far more accurate would be impossible.
I should demand that Triston drives me back to my apartment. Even if it’s old and falling apart and I have a crazy landlord, it would be a surefire way to make sure Triston and I don’t do anything tonight. But I can’t make myself say the words, not when there’s an evening with my man waiting for me.
“What do you want to do tonight?” I ask.
“A movie?” He laughs gruffly. “Whatever we do, it’s going to be nowhere near as perfect as what we could do.”
“I know,” I say softly. “But we agreed…”
He nods. “Don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
I’m not sure I believe him. I’m not even sure I want to believe him.
His hands are tight on the wheel. Every movement looks as if it takes a massive effort. Like he’s fighting what he really wants to do each moment.
Whenever he looks at me, his eyes become more intense, his mouth twisted, between a grimace and a smirk…
He fights between what he wants to do and what he knows he should do.
“What sort of movie should we watch?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’ll be a gentleman and let you decide.”
“Careful. I might put on some romantic comedy to really turn you off.”
“Maybe it’ll have the opposite effect.”
“What, you’ll get so excited by the actress you won’t be able to stop yourself?”
“No,” he snaps fiercely. “No other woman interests me. Not a Hollywood actress, supermodel, no one else. But maybe…”
“What, Triston?”
My hand is on his arm. It’s the sort of thing I promised myself I wouldn’t do today, but I can’t stop myself. My body has taken control.
His muscles are hard. They’re as tense as the rest of him.
“Maybe I’ll see this fake happily ever after,” he goes on, voice even deeper and huskier. “And I won’t be able to stop thinking about how I have the real thing right here.”
I make a sound. Somewhere between a moan and a sigh.
I can’t help myself.
His words fill me with heat, only to grow hotter and hotter. Every part of me feels sensitive and ready.
“Maybe an action movie then,” I suggest.
“So… what.” He smirks. “I can imagine all the ways I’d save you instead, save our family?”
“Our family,” I whisper. “It’s crazy how, well, not crazy that sounds. Because it should, shouldn’t it? I should be calling you a complete lunatic for even thinking that. But I can’t.”
“Because you feel the same,” he growls.
“Because I feel the same.”
He touches my hand for a moment, pushing it harder against his arm, but then he grabs the steering wheel again.
“I think we can do it.” I place my hands in my lap. “We can be strong.”
Triston laughs darkly. “I wish I felt as confident. Just sitting in the car with you is torture. I have to fight my instincts every single goddamn second. Tell me, Tamia, why do you have to be so beautiful, eh?”
I laugh, delight brimming in me at the compliment. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Why am I so beautiful?” He grins. “I guess I’m just blessed.”
“Not beautiful. Handsome, rugged, mine.”
“And you’re mine,” he growls. “But don’t start saying things like that. You’ll give me ideas.”
“Something tells me you’re already got enough of those.”
We stop at a red light, and he turns, smirking. “You’re so sexy when you get sassy like that.”
“It makes me nervous,” I admit.
He tilts his head. “Really?”
“Yeah. It makes me think you’re going to laugh at me for trying to be something I’m not.”
“Are you doing that?” he asks.
I giggle at his tone.
“What’s funny?”
“I don’t even know. It’s just how you look at me sometimes.”
He smirks as he pulls the car away from the changing light. “How’s that?”
“Like nobody else matters. Obviously, I know other people matter to you. I know you care about Alexis, probably about your employees, but… When you look at me, sometimes, I feel like the only person who exists.”