He left. Not just me but everyone. It still stings.
Not to mention that this isn’t like we’re hanging out casually, this is my job. I love it. And even if I didn’t, Dad is my boss. He’s going to be watching to see how Tristan does, and be around more because Tristan is his best friend. What happens if I let myself pursue Tristan and he notices? That’s the only part of the plan that I never figured out when I told Tristan how I felt. And I never made myself figure it out, because I had no idea if I’d ever see him again.
Dad could fire me. Or fire Tristan. Possibly cut him off, which would be painful for both of them.
Fuck.
Honestly, it doesn’t matter how I feel now or how I felt then. Things today are just so much more complicated than they were before he left. I have to resist it. I can’t let him get too close to me, not until I know why he’s here and how everything’s going to play out. I’m strong enough. I have to be.
Taking a deep breath, I push out of the bathroom door and immediately trip. The door collides with a body and I’m falling until I’m not. Strong arms are around my waist, and I’m saved by the very man I just said I had to resist. Being held tight against his body isn’t doing anything for my resolve, and our faces are so close I can almost taste our kiss—I’ve never forgotten it.
“The focus group is over,” he says, smirking. “Your dad sent me to find you so that you could show me around to my new office.”
That confident smile, and the way his fingers grip me just a little tighter, have my stomach doing flips and drawing up buckets of desire from a well I’ve tried unsuccessfully to close off for years.
I am in so much trouble.
3
Nicola
I pull out of Tristan’s arms quickly. “Thank you. Sorry for running into you.”
“It’s not a problem,” he says, and that voice does things to my body that I absolutely can’t ignore. “Feel free to fall into me anytime.”
“Thanks,” I say, but I’m incapable of saying anything else, even though it feels like I have so much to say. So many questions. But I can’t breathe, because Tristan is reaching out to touch me.
I swear that time freezes and my heart stops as he strokes his fingers down my cheek. That look is in his eyes again, like he’s trying to memorize me and consume me and draw me closer, and I don’t want to think about what it means. Because if it doesn’t mean what I want it to, I’ll be devastated.
Tristan leans in, and his lips touch mine without hesitation.
Holy shit.
This is exactly what I just said can’t happen. There’s so much wrong with this right now, including the fact that we’re in the hallway where anyone could see us. And there are four years of silence and yearning and questions that have to be answered.
But my body isn’t listening. I melt into his embrace without a second thought, and it feels like I belong there, just like it did that night four years ago. So impossibly good that I never want to resurface from this kiss. But we have to.
I have to.
“Tristan,” I say, managing to pull back barely an inch. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
Whatever I was going to say is lost in his next kiss, and it takes my breath away. His hands stroke down my ribs, and I shiver. The heat from his fingers sinks through the fabric of my dress and this is doing nothing for my resolve. It’s crumbling faster than I can believe.
“You want me to list the reasons?”
“Yes,” he says, moving his lips to my jaw, pressing me against the wall as he does it. “I do.”
I bite my lip to keep back my groan as his lips trace further down my neck. “For one thing we could get caught. If someone sees us, I don’t know what will happen, Tristan. You just got here. You want to lose your job?”
He doesn’t respond to the question, just focuses his attention on the line just below my jaw. Wetness gathers at my core, and my nipples go hard beneath my dress. Fuck, he’s good at that, and it’s everything that I’ve ever wanted—his lips on me. I dream about it all the time. “Keep going,” he murmurs.
“I don’t know you anymore. I haven’t seen you since…everything happened. We’re strangers now. You don’t even know if I’m involved with someone.”
His head snaps up when I say those words, eyes like fire, pinning me to the spot. “Are you?”
I swallow the lie I had on my lips. If I could muster it, it would make it easier on both of us, but I can’t do it. I can’t tell him that I’ve been with anyone else. I remember the promise that I made to him, even though I’m not going to admit that.