His are not. They are just rough enough to feel manly and rugged and I like it. He’s still toying with my fingers, pulling our hands apart so he can flip mine over and examine my palm, tracing the lines there with his index finger. His touch is feather light. When I lift my head I find that he’s already watching me with those dark, turbulent eyes.
“I think you’ve converted me,” he whispers and I blink at him.
“Converted you to what?”
“Sex and the City.” He smiles and shifts so his head is closer to mine. “I’m a total fan.”
“You only watched four episodes,” I point out.
“I’ll watch more. I’ll watch them all.” His smile grows. “That’ll give me a good excuse to come over here more often. Not that I need one.”
Arrogant Tristan is bad enough. Cute, sweet Tristan is ten times worse and I didn’t think that was possible. All I can do is stare at him in wonder, curious over what’s happening in that brain of his. What is he thinking? What is he doing? What are his motives?
I don’t know. I almost don’t want to know. I’d rather think he was into me and I’m into him and we’re just having a good time.
It’s simpler that way.
“You like coming over here to play video games with the guys?” I ask quietly.
He slowly shakes his head and comes even closer, readjusting himself so he’s lying on his side and I’m flat on my back, his head hovering over mine. I gaze up at him, trembling as I wait for him to make the next move. “I’m here for you.” He dips his head and brushes my mouth with his. More sparks fly. I’m surprised we haven’t set each other on fire yet. “The only reason I’ve ever come here is for you.”
There’s no more talking. The kiss is soft, an exploration, a question. I part my lips easily, inviting him in, eager to deepen the kiss. Our tongues circle and search, his arm stretches across my stomach, his hand resting lightly at my waist. I reach up to touch his face, skim my fingers over his cheek, trace the line of his firm jaw. His skin is warm, covered in scratchy stubble. I’ve never allowed myself to touch him like this before, not really. I always kept myself reined in, scared to want too much, to take too much.
But tonight, I want to take. Just a little. Just enough to satisfy my curiosity.
He breaks the kiss first and I open my eyes to find him watching me, his lips damp, his hair hanging over his forehead. He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. My cheek. My other cheek. My forehead. Tender, sweet kisses I would never associate with Tristan the player but I’m starting to think there’s more to him. A side he doesn’t show anyone. One I’d like to see more of.
“I should go,” he whispers against my cheek, his breath hot.
“Really?” I croak. I’m stunned. He’s going to…leave? Now? “You um, said we were going to make out.”
“If I keep this up it’ll be more than making out.” He rolls over so he’s flat on his back, resting his arms on his chest, hands linked, fingers laced together. “I’m trying to take it slow.”
He smiles and rises up on his elbows. “Because I think you might be worth it.” I lean in and he cups the back of my head, kissing me. “Because I want to do right by you.” Another kiss, this one incredibly soft, his lips lingering on mine before he reluctantly pulls away, his hand slipping from my hair. “Because I want to make sure you really want this. Want me.”
Before I can say anything he’s leapt off the bed, pulling on his sweatshirt and toeing on his shoes. “I’ll see you later?” he asks once he’s ready to go.
I rise up onto my knees and crawl over until I’m on the edge of the bed, closest to where he stands. Grabbing hold of the drawstrings on his hoodie, I tug, pulling him down for a kiss. “I don’t want you to leave,” I murmur against his lips.
Wow. Look at me being bold, asking for what I want.
A harsh breath leaves him and he closes his eyes. “You’re killing me here. I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“I think you should do the wrong thing.”
“And what do you define as the wrong thing?”
“Diving back underneath the covers and getting naked with me.” Am I testing him? Am I testing myself? I don’t know. But I’m not lying when I say I want that. I so do.
He grabs hold of my hands and grips them tight, giving them a squeeze before he releases them. “Gotta go. I’ll text you.”
I’m gaping at him. I can’t believe he just turned me down. Strangely enough, I don’t feel rejected. “You’re really leaving?”
Tristan goes to the door and opens it, turning to look at me before he slips out. “It’ll be worth it in the long run. I promise.”
I toss a pillow at the door as soon as it quietly shuts, battling against the sexual frustration throbbing deep inside of me. I kind of liked that he walked away. I sort of hate that he seemed able to do it so easily.
Now he’s just left me wanting more.
“I have no idea what to wear,” I mutter as I rifle through my tiny closet. I can’t remember the last time I bought something new. I’ve been purposely forcing myself to wear clothes I already own, considering my old closet back home was as big as my entire bedroom here and full of the latest and greatest styles, including super hot shoes and expensive bags.
After all the bad shit went down, I returned a bunch of those unworn shoes and got my money back. A lot of those expensive bags have also made me good money at the consignment shop. Sandie is thrilled with how fast they’ve sold and keeps asking if I have anymore, which I so do but that warrants a visit to the storage place and I haven’t had a chance to make it over there in a while.
For some reason my life went from dull and lonely, to exciting and busy. I blame it on making new friends. And a certain arrogant, sexy dude.
“I’m sure you’ll find something,” Kelli says, clearly not paying attention to me. She’s sitting on my bed, flipping through a magazine she picked up at the grocery store when we stopped by there earlier. “Hey, wanna take this sex test?”
I pause in my search for the perfect thing to wear. “No.”
She makes a noise. “God, you’re no fun. Don’t you want to know if you’re a wild woman or not?”
I’m fairly certain I’m not a wild woman. “I’m pretty boring when it comes to sex. I don’t need a test to tell me that.”
“Oh, come on, you can’t be that boring. I bet you have a few wild secrets up your sleeve.” She glances up from her magazine and wrinkles her nose. “Is that what you’re wearing? Don’t you think that’s a little too much?”
Sighing, I tug the black sweater dress I have on over my head, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Kelli’s right. A dress is too formal. It looks like I’m trying too hard to impress and that is so not the image I want to portray with Tristan’s friends.
Ugh. I can’t believe I even agreed to do this tonight anyway. I think Tristan is a little stunned that he agreed to it as well. A double date with Gabe and Lucy, we’re going to dinner together. Tonight.
He’s picking me up in less than an hour and I still don’t have an outfit figured out. I’m already a massive case of jittery nerves. I haven’t seen Tristan since the night we watched SATC and that was days ago. We’ve talked. We’ve texted. But what if he acts weird?