I frown, assuming the answer to that last question is probably a no. I doubt Tristan has a death wish, since telling Jax that he fucked his basically-sister is a good way to get a beating. But the only way he won't figure it out is if nothing changes between Tristan and me.
I sigh, knowing that's probably the best way to deal with this entire situation. It's not like it'll ever happen again. Partly because Tristan is a once and done kind of guy, but also because God knows I never need to let that happen again. So the best thing to do is to just act like it never did.
I sit up in bed, mentally steeling myself. I can do this. I can treat Tristan the same way I always have. I just need to glare at him and yell a few insults. Easy. Maybe after ignoring him for a few days, I’ll be able to get the image of him pulling a screaming orgasm from me with his fingers out of my head. He practically lives at the gym anyway; it shouldn't be too hard to avoid him for a few days. And if I do see him, I'm just going to act like nothing ever happened. No problem.
And I'm just going to ignore the fact that it was the best goddamn sex of my life.
I groan and fall face first back into the pillows.
* * *
I manage to avoid him for almost two days. Miraculously, he's already left the gym when I show up on Monday night, so I fully expect him to be passed out by the time I get home. I even linger with Lucy in the parking lot after class to make sure I get home as late as possible.
Instead, I open the front door to see him sitting at the kitchen island. I freeze.
"Hey," I force out.
Fuck. I really did not want to have this conversation now.
He looks up from his phone with a lazy smirk. "Hey," he says.
"I thought you'd be asleep already," I stammer awkwardly as I force myself to walk into the kitchen to make my dinner.
The grin on his face grows. Of course he can tell I'm flustered. "Hoping to avoid me another night?"
I glare at him and start digging through the cabinets.What's the quickest protein-dense meal I can make in about ninety seconds? I need out of this room.
I spot the peanut butter and decide this is going to be a PB&J night.Good enough.
"So how long are you planning on ignoring me? Forever, or just until Jax gets home?" he asks, returning his attention to his dinner but keeping that stupid grin plastered on his face.
"I'm not ignoring you," I snap. "But what we, um… did the other night…" Fuck, I'm stuttering. "It doesn't mean I like you all of a sudden. I don't want to hang out with you now." I fumble with the peanut butter jar, trying to rush out of here as quickly as possible.
"Remy, we fucked," he says bluntly. "You can admit you liked it. We both know the truth, anyway. You can even admit you're a little obsessed with me now." If he grins any harder, I think his face might split in half.
"Don't flatter yourself," I snarl. I turn my attention to spreading the jelly on the piece of bread in front of me. "I was drunk, and horny. You could've been any guy." I stop, the anger causing my nerves to dissipate and making me feel more in control. I glance at Tristan. "To be honest, the whole night was pretty mediocre. Not quite obsession-worthy."
I'm lying through my teeth, but there isn't a chance in hell I'm going to admit that to him. He doesn't need to know that I haven't stopped thinking about that night. That I've touched myself three times since then to the thought of him fucking me. That I caught myself touching my lips a few times, remembering how electric his lips had felt against mine.
No, he doesn't need to know that. He can go on thinking I was unimpressed, that our relationship is the same angry, insult-fueled one that it always has been.
"You're a liar," he whispers in my ear. I yelp. I didn't even notice him come around the island.
His hands grip the counter on either side of my arms, effectively caging me in. He's not touching me, but he might as well be—I’m aware of every inch of his body that's close to mine. The fire between us pulses and I shiver as I feel his breath on my exposed neck.
"You can try to lie to yourself but we both know that night was hot as fuck," he breathes against my skin. "I still remember how wet and tight you felt when I bent you over the couch. My dick's getting hard just thinking about it."
I bite my lip to keep a moan from slipping out. I squeeze my legs together and try to ignore the heat growing between them. How is it possible for someone to make my knees weak with just his dirty words?
With his finger he scoops a bit of jelly out of the jar in front of me. Before I realize what he's doing, he spreads it on my lower lip, letting his touch linger for just a moment.
My tongue automatically darts out to lick it off. He growls at the sight. "I can't wait to have that mouth on me again," he mutters darkly.
I turn in his grip to face him, fury burning in my eyes. "Fuck you," I snarl angrily. "I am not one of your brainless fucktoys. Just because I drunkenly fucked you one night does not mean you can now have me in your bed whenever you want. I still hate you just as much as I did last week—probably more. So, if you think I’ll ever let you in my pants again, you are out of your goddamn mind. One mistake was enough."
To my complete chagrin, his smile grows. He leans forward, lips almost touching mine. But I won't give him the satisfaction of backing away.
"We'll see," he whispers, just before his tongue slides across my lips and licks the remaining jelly off. With his smirk still fully in place, he turns and walks upstairs.