Emboldened by the buzz running through my veins, I turn to study Tristan thoughtfully. "Maybe I was just trying to repay you for helping my sister," I answer honestly. I lean a little bit closer to whisper, "Maybe, out of the two of us, I'm not the one that's doing the chasing."
There's no longer any amusement in his eyes—the inferno from only a few minutes ago is back in full force. I suck in a breath at the intensity of being enveloped by his fire, unable to look away.
His eyes dart to my lips. The hunger in his gaze makes my heart start to beat faster.
I try to say something, anything, to break the spell, but no words come out. I lick my lips and try again.
At the sight of my tongue running along my bottom lip, a low growl slips from Tristan. His grip tightens around his shot glass. My breath catches when he starts to lean in.
"Damn, you two are just magnets for bar drama."
I jump, startled. Tristan and I quickly pull away from each other as we turn stunned eyes toward a very drunk Aiden.
He just chuckles. "First that guy went after Remy, then today Tristan's stalker shows up. You guys should be each other's bodyguards." And with that, he claps Tristan on the shoulder and walks away, completely oblivious to his interruption.
Fortunately, his intrusion is enough to shake me from whatever spell I was just under. I glance nervously at Tristan as I stand up. I'm about to be actually drunk in a few minutes and I feel like I need to get out of this bar.
"I'm going home," I announce, looking everywhere but at Tristan. "Aiden's right, I've had enough excitement this weekend. I'll just see you… around the house." I turn to search the bar for the remaining friends in our group.
I feel Tristan gently grab my wrist before I can walk away. "I don't want you out there alone," he says gruffly. "I'll take you."
I finally turn to look at him. I don't know if it's the alcohol that's driven away my need to fight, or the protective tone in his voice, but I nod my acceptance.
Without letting go of my arm, he downs the remaining double shot before pulling me after him. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he murmurs.
We quickly realize that Aiden and Max are the only ones left from our group. They're both heavily invested in a drunk debate—most likely about boxing versus wrestling, if I know those guys at all. Only an attractive, single female could tear them from their conversation.
Instead of interrupting them, we pay our tabs and head outside. I stand awkwardly on the sidewalk as Tristan calls an Uber on his phone. And I suddenly realize: I have no idea how to act around him right now. I feel like I have whiplash from the evening as a whole, and when I said I was leaving it was mostly because I wanted to come outside for a breath of fresh air and to clear my thoughts for a minute. But now Tristan is with me and I feel like I can't accomplish either of those things.
Between him protecting Hailey and then what happened with Sabrina, are we supposed to be friendly now? I feel like we had a comfortable, not-quite-aggressive flow going with his game at the bar before the fake-girlfriend act completely threw me off of that. I don't know if Tristan's gotten sexier or if I'm just tipsier than I realize, but either way I can still feel the taste of desire choking me. I can't even look at him without blushing from the memory of his hands tightening on my hips and pulling me closer.
As I'm standing on the sidewalk waging an internal war with myself, I notice a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. I turn slightly and realize Sabrina is on the other side of the street with a group of her girlfriends.
She sees me at the same time that I spot her. Her eyes dart from me to Tristan and I realize with a jolt that what she thinks she’s seeing is Tristan taking me home for the night. And even though we'll both get in the car and we really will be going home to the same place, my fake girlfriend story from earlier probably won't sell very well if I'm standing awkwardly to the side with my arms wrapped around myself. If I were his girlfriend with the promise of sex, I'd most likely be all over him.
I only hesitate for a heartbeat before I grit my teeth and steel myself for what I'm about to do. I make a quick wish that my drunken attraction to Tristan doesn't carry me away in my performance this time.
I step up to stand in front of him and nervously wrap my arms around his waist. I tilt my head up to appear like I'm demanding his full attention.
Tristan looks up from his phone in surprise but moves his arms out of the way so I can move my body closer to his. My skin tingles even through my dress where the hand not holding his phone comes to rest on my hip. He looks down at me in confusion, and I can’t help but feel the same way, even as I feel a comfortable warmth being this close to him. It vaguely registers in the back of my mind that this is now the second time tonight we’ve been this intimate, and neither of us has seemed very put-off by it.
"I… um… I thought…" I stutter. I have so many things I should be saying right now. I want to tell him that Sabrina is watching us and that I assume he'd want me to keep the charade going—that we should probably try to look like we're going home together. But the tequila is running through my veins now and I can’t tell if I’m feeling drunk or just drunk on his closeness. Suddenly every single thought flies out of my mind, and all I can think about is that his blue eyes are boring into mine and his lips are only a breath away.
At that thought, my gaze drops to his mouth. My heart starts beating so loud that I'm afraid he'll hear it, but I don't think I could avoid the pull of my body to his even if I wanted to.
My gaze darts back to his eyes to see him studying me, looking equal amounts surprised and hungry. That look is what gives me the confidence to push up on my toes and press my lips to his.
My eyes close at the contact. His lips are soft and warm, and a comfortable buzz runs through my body. I feel Tristan's hand tighten on my hip as his mouth starts to move against mine. I sigh and settle into the kiss.
I gently kiss his top lip, then his bottom. I pause, feeling unsure of myself for only a moment before I open my mouth to deepen the kiss. Our tongues touch and my breath catches at the sensation.
It seems to affect Tristan, too. The moment our kiss intensifies and our tongues begin to tangle, a deep groan rumbles through his chest. His grip tightens on my hips and he pulls me forward so that there isn't an inch of space between us. He tilts his head and greedily demands control of the kiss. I give him that power with a grateful shiver.
He licks my lips, coaxing them to open further. Every swipe of his tongue drives a bolt of lightning through me, another rush of liquid heat to my core. It doesn't take long for the power of this kiss to destroy me so thoroughly that my head spins and my knees grow weak, and I'm left breathless and clinging to Tristan's waist.
I somehow manage to end the kiss before I demand he drag me down an alley to finish what I started. I pull back just far enough so I can look at him and tell him… something that I need to tell him but can't quite remember right now.
He's just as breathless as I am. We stand there, completely oblivious to the fact that we're blocking the sidewalk and forcing people to walk around us, and stare at each other as we suck air into our lungs and try to make sense of what just happened. He looks completely confused, but his hands stay holding my hips, as if he doesn’t want to give me more than an inch of space.