They both jump when they hear me come through the door. Tristan is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and a half-naked girl in only her bra and panties is straddling him. They're both openly staring at me.
I cover my face with my hands and cry loud, fake sobs. "Howcouldyou?" I cry. "You said I was the love of your life!" I gesture angrily at the girl who has now jumped up and is looking back and forth between Tristan and I. "Who is this bitch? Is she who you've been fucking behind my back?"
Tristan is still staring at me, slack-jawed.
"I—I didn't—" stammers the poor girl. "I didn't know he—I sh-should go." She quickly grabs her clothes off the floor and pushes past me toward the stairs.
"Babe, wait!" Tristan finally says, following her path into the hallway. "She's not who you think! She's—" But to her credit, the girl is already gone.
I chuckle and cross my arms. "Babe?" I mock. "Is that what you call them when you can't remember their names?"
I watch Tristan slowly turn back toward me, anger radiating from every inch of his body.
Every inch of his perfect, muscled body, I realize, as it registers in my brain that he's still half-naked.
I swallow roughly, trying very hard not to let my eyes wander.
"You," he growls. He inches closer to where I'm standing against the doorway. "Does it make you happy to ruin my fun?"
My nerves fade in the face of his anger. I glare daggers at him and step forward, putting myself right in his face. "Yourfun?" I shout. "I don't give a shit about your fun! Not when you're trying to make my life a living hell! I was going to be an adult and let this morning's incident slide, but did you really expect me to wait downstairs like a blushing nun while you finished with your sorority girl?"
Despite our height difference we're barely a breath away from each other, both seething through clenched teeth and squeezing our hands into fists. I can actually see the anger flashing like lightning in his eyes. I can feel the fury radiating off of him in waves, can see how badly he wants to throw me out for ruining his night. But I’m just as angry, and there’s not a chance in hell that I’m going to roll over and let him keep playing me.
Neither of us wants to be the first to back down.
Suddenly the anger drains from him, to be replaced with his typical cocky grin. His eyes trail across my face, down to my chest that's practically pushed against him because of our closeness, then back up to my scowl.
"Jealous, Remy baby?" he taunts. "You can admit that's why you got rid of her. I would completely understand."
The red haze clouds my vision again—for the fourth time since I moved into this house twenty-four hours ago.
"Hardly," I snap. "She should be thanking me for saving her from a night of subpar sex."
Tristan's white teeth flash in a grin. "Subpar? Hardly," he chuckles. His eyes shine with his arrogance.
He takes a step forward, forcing me to take a step back. With another step he's backed me against the wall. My eyes widen when he braces his hands on either side of my head, trapping me in place. I know I should push him away, but I can’t quite catch my breath enough to move. This feels so different from when we train at the gym. Now, there’s no purpose for our closeness. Now, there’s just emotion and intimidation and… tension. I’m shockingly aware of the fury in his gaze that’s cooled to annoyance, and the angry warmth that’s still radiating from his bare skin.
We’re not breathing from physical exertion; we’re gasping from the growing heat.
"Beg me for it and I’ll prove it to you," he purrs. "I promise I can fuck you better than whatever nerds you usually sleep with."
A flash of unexpected lust rushes through me and I bite my lip to keep a gasp from escaping. His eyes dart to my lips—and immediately darken when his pupils dilate with that same lust.
"I don't fuck nerds," I say weakly. "I just happen to have a different type than 'arrogant womanizer.'"
He rips his eyes from my lips and grins at my response. His arms drop and he steps away from me.
"You don't know what you're missing," he says. He steps through the doorway to his bedroom but pauses before he actually shuts the door. His eyes pass over my body again. "Actually, you should probably stick with whatever your loser type is. It would take too much time to break you in for my tastes."
He slams his door and I feel my heart drop into my stomach.
It takes me forever to fall asleep that night.
* * *
The next day is marginally better than the previous one. I made sure to lock Jax's door before I fell asleep—to ensure no hidden pranks were pulled in retaliation for chasing away Tristan's booty call—and he was already gone by the time I woke up, so I did actually get to enjoy my coffee with a book in the morning.
Work flies by. I barely notice the construction today since I'm buried in documents all day. I've got a few deadlines coming up on Friday and I'm so distracted by the amount of editing that needs to be done that I do a double take when I realize it's almost 6:00.