“So did he kick you out while he went to New York?” Sutton asked. “Worried that you’d discover his sex dungeon while he was gone?”
“Actually, he wanted me to stay. I’m going to pack up the flat, take the stuff to storage that I’m not going to use for the next couple of months, and then rent the place out.”
“On Airbnb?”
“Or something,” I replied. “I feel like this is the perfect opportunity to take stock. Maybe look at my life differently.”
“I suppose when you’re getting married to the hottest man alive, it’s time to reassess where your life is going.” Sutton chuckled to herself.
“We both know Tristan and I won’t know each other this time next year.”
Sutton went uncharacteristically silent.
“What?” I asked. “Spit it out.”
“Well, you know how I’m a doctor now? I can diagnose illnesses, even without you having to ask.”
“You’re not a doctor yet. Are you?”
She shrugged. “No one knows. If I get a placement in one of the London hospitals I’ve applied to, come September, I’m hoping someone will explain it to me. But doctor or no doctor, I could spot the chemistry between you and Tristan a mile away. When he kissed you the other night at your engagement party, it was like your father had shelled out a hundred grand for a fireworks display. You two lit up the party.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “You know the deal. I’m just doing what I need to do to get my hands on my trust fund.”
“And what is it exactly that you’re doing to the hottest man alive, also known as Tristan Dubrow?”
I elbowed her in the ribs and took a seat on the long oak bench set in front of one of my favorite landscapes. “It’s purely platonic. You know dating isn’t my priority.”
“But you’re not actively not dating, are you? You’re living with this guy. You must spend a lot of time together.”
“A little. But the house is pretty big. We’re not tripping over each other.” The fact was when Tristan wasn’t in his office—which was a lot of the time—we were usually hanging out in the kitchen, eating and chatting. I found I preferred cooking for two rather than one, so had been working my way through my grandma’s recipes. Tristan was my very willing guinea pig when I tried new things in the kitchen.
“Are you really telling me the kiss at your engagement party was the first time you’d locked lips?”
I blushed as I remembered my legs threaded through his and his body pressed up against my flimsy robe in my bedroom. “We sort of had a quick practice before we came down.”
“A quick practice? I have to tell you, nothing about that kiss looked rehearsed. What about the wedding night, have you been practicing that too? You know the wedding’s not legal unless you two sleep together?”
“No one is going to know we’re not sleeping together. Unless he or I spill the beans, there’s no evidence. Anyway it is legal. It just could be annulled if either of us applied for it. Which we won’t.” I’d looked into it. There was no way I wanted to go through the trouble of getting married and then still have my trust fund denied me on a technicality.
“I suppose it’s difficult to prove a negative,” Sutton agreed. “But you might just do it once, so your case is water-tight.”
I laughed, but since our engagement party, I couldn’t deny that I’d imagined Tristan naked, under the sheets and between my thighs. “Why don’t you sleep with him? You seem pretty obsessed.”
“Of course I’m obsessed,” Sutton replied. “Have you seen the guy? He’s like a wall of muscle topped by a movie-star smile and hair that’s begging to be tugged. Like, I wish I’d met him before I graduated. I would have dragged him into anatomy lectures and had him strip. He’s magnificent. Have you seen him coming out of the shower in a towel? Does he look as good as I think he does?”
From the hair on his hands, I imagined he’d have chest hair—which was likely to be soft and spread across his muscles like the grass on the Umbrian mountains.
Not that I’d been thinking about it.
“Well, have you?” Sutton asked.
“No, of course I haven’t. It’s not like we share a room or anything. This is an arrangement. Any hope of it being anything else is your vivid imagination running wild.”
“If you say so. I just get a vibe from the two of you. He’s single, right?”
Cold hit me like a snowball to my chest. We’d never discussed our relationship status prior to our scheme. I’d just assumed he was single. He’d never mentioned having a girlfriend. “I guess.”
“You guess? You’ve not asked him? If your dad was to see him in town having dinner with his girlfriend, he’s going to figure out your plan. You need to ask Tristan—and make it a condition of your arrangement that he doesn’t fool around with anyone else for as long as you two are married. Or at least until you separate.”