The door slams behind Lucy, shaking me out of my daze. I hurry after her, so she doesn't come back in again.
Fuck, I am so far gone.
* * *
Lunch turns into drinks, which turns into a late afternoon and eventually more food. It's almost 7:00 when I finally get home.
Tristan's passed out on the couch when I open the front door. It looks like he had some fights on but fell asleep at some point. I don't want to wake him, so I tiptoe silently up the steps.
It's still quiet downstairs after I get out of the shower. I decide to take a catnap, the food and drinks after a hard workout making me practically sway on my feet.
Twenty minutes and a Red Bull later, I hear movement downstairs and decide to finally put my big girl pants on and stop putting off seeing Tristan. The last time it was just the two of us, he immediately fucked me into the nearest surface. Surely after that I shouldn't be too nervous to make small talk.
He's finishing his dinner and putting his dishes in the sink when I finally walk into the kitchen. He doesn't quite smile but he turns to give me his full attention.
"I’m going to head over to my new apartment to make sure the key works and to drop a few things off," I tell him nervously. "I'll take a few boxes now but move the rest of it tomorrow. I should be back in an hour or so."
"Want some help?" he asks me.
I glance at him, startled. I'm always surprised when Nice Tristan makes an appearance. Even with everything going on between us, I still don't quite expect him to go out of his way to be helpful.
Sensing my hesitation, he jokes, "The sooner I get you out of here, the sooner I can go back to making my Brussels sprouts." He grins as my nose crinkles in disgust. He knows exactly how much I hate the smell of his favorite vegetable.
"Fine," I concede. "Grab some boxes and let's fit them in my car."
The drive over to my apartment only takes ten minutes and we spend the entire time lost in our own thoughts. I still can't figure out where his head is.
When we reach my new building, I park the car and we each grab a box. I swing my front door open and take in the dark, now seemingly lonely, one bedroom apartment. I turn on the lights in the hallway and make my way to the bedroom. All of the boxes I brought are clothes and bedding, so we make quick work of unloading everything into one room before wandering into the main living area.
We haven't said a word to each other since we left the house. Between the silence surrounding us and the darkness of the apartment, I feel my nerves start to buzz. It doesn't help when I realize that there is no light in the living room.
"Shit, I guess I didn't notice there's no lighting in here," I mumble as I wander into the room. I make a mental note to buy a lamp tomorrow. It's almost 10:00 and dark outside. The only reason the room isn't just as dark is because of the wall of oversized windows. The lights from the city illuminate the room, casting a comfortable glow around me.
"I love this city so much," I say quietly as I step up to the windows. "It has such an addicting energy. Even when I was a kid, I could tell how much passion the city held. I've always loved the sights, the sounds, everything about it. I don't think I'll ever be able to leave it." I close my eyes and take a deep breath, as if I'm trying to inhale the feel of the city itself. "Isn't it amazing?" I turn back to look at Tristan, nervous that he's still silent.
But he's not looking out the windows. He's looking at me.
My breath catches as our eyes meet. His smoldering gaze feels like it's looking right into my soul, like it's trying to reach the secrets in the depth of my heart. He takes a step forward to stand in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he says quietly.
My heart jumps into my throat. It's beating so hard I'm scared he'll hear it, and I focus on reminding myself to breathe. I can barely catch my breath under his intense stare.
He steps closer still and rests his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.
He studies me for another heartbeat, then gently pulls my lips to his.
The kiss is soft, and timid. It's like he's exploring me for the first time and trying to figure out what to make of me. It only lasts for a moment before he pulls away and gazes down at me again.
"Why does it feel so different with you?"
His question is what breaks us.
This time I'm the one that pulls him to me, but now there's nothing gentle about our kiss. He’s kissing me hungrily, possessively. His hands grip me hard, one still on my neck and the other now wrapped around my lower back. I'm pressed so tightly against his body that it feels like our hearts are beating against each other.
I fist my hands in his shirt, wanting desperately to understand what he's trying to tell me. A whimper escapes my lips as he opens my mouth with his tongue and deepens our kiss. I don't think I'll ever get enough of him when he touches me like this.
He continues to grip my hips as he feathers kisses down my neck. My stomach flips every time his tongue touches my skin, and I start to pant.