I see Remy's almost imperceptible wince. But then she says, "I had no idea you were in town. Of course I'll come, that sounds like a lot of fun."
I try to keep the frown from my face, but I doubt I'm successful.
Anna practically beams with happiness. "All right, well I'm just going to grab my jacket and then we can head over there.” She turns to me with a thousand-watt smile. "You sure you don't want to come? I'm happy to keep you company."
I smother the wince that threatens to take over my face from the obvious come-on. "Sorry, I'm just going to call it a night,” I tell her. I swallow roughly and turn to Remy. "I guess I'll see you at home." She gives me a small nod.
I head toward the backyard to say goodbye to everyone from the gym. From behind me I hear Anna say, "Home? You guys live together? I didn't know you were dating."
"We're… not," is Remy's answer.
And I can't stop my heart from cracking a little bit at those words.
17
Remy
I can't stop thinking about Tristan's bathroom sex declaration.
It's four hours and way too many shots later, and I haven't once been able to focus on the show, or my friends, or the music we're now dancing to. I just keep replaying Tristan's words.
You're mine.
What does that even mean? Why would he say that? That makes it sound like we're so much more than just sex, but I know for a fact that Tristan is not interested in a relationship. He said as much when he admitted he's too selfish as a fighter to have a girlfriend. But then what did he mean?
And why did his words make me so insanely, ridiculously happy?
Something changed with us last night. Mentioning his family during the question game this week was one thing, but talking to me after his mom called him yesterday, letting me see his pain… that changed something between us.
And I don't want to fight it anymore.
I realize I like spending time with Tristan. I like asking him random questions, and watching fights together, and lying in bed after sex. I like that he's so much more than everyone thinks he is, and that he only shows that side of him to a few people. I like the way his brain thinks. I like how protective he is of the people he loves. I like the way we fit together, both during sex and after.
I likehim. And I want more.
I cringe at that thought, hoping Anna doesn’t notice and think I’m reacting to whatever it is she’s been babbling on about for the past twenty minutes. But she's so drunk that I doubt she'd notice even if I broke down and started crying. I chug the majority of my cocktail in an attempt to erase my thoughts from my brain.
I can't like Tristan. I can't want more. He's just not that guy—he doesn't do relationships. He's the playboy that sleeps with women and then turns them down when they inevitably want more.
And I've just become one of them.
I wince and finish the rest of my drink.Fuck.I'm officially a statistic.
I glance at my phone and realize with a start that it's almost 2:00 in the morning. Not only are they going to yell last call soon, but I also planned on taking class in the morning. I can already feel how tired and hungover that workout is going to be.
I quickly say goodbye to the girls, promising to call Anna again. Twenty minutes later my Uber is pulling up to the house.
I glance nervously at Tristan's window, but I can see even from here that the lights are off and the house is quiet. I can't decide if I'm relieved or dejected that I won't see him tonight.
With a tired sigh, I walk into the house.
* * *
I was right about the workout being horrendous. I drank so much trying to distract myself from my Tristan-addled thoughts that I might still be drunk even several hours later.
I haven't seen Tristan yet. I know he's here somewhere because Saturday is the day our training always overlaps, but he's not the one teaching our cardio bagwork class this morning and I haven't exactly found the courage to go looking for him.
Thank goodness it's not one of the pro fighters teaching the class because an hour at their intensity definitely would have made me puke. Even now, I'm struggling to keep the nausea at bay.