Tristan
I DIDN’T WANT to look at her; I knew what her face would tell me. Her eyes would be wide, her mouth slightly ajar, and then she’d either snuggle up closer to me or push away like I was a disease. Most women were either so power hungry they could barely see straight or terrified that they were going to be on the FBI watch list by association. Knowing she could be either one of those, or both? It bothered me more than it should. Bothered me so much that my appetite was basically gone.
With a grimace, I looked down at the pizza. The clock ticked in the background, and still Lisa said nothing.
Finally, a painful five minutes later, she reached into one of the boxes and grumbled, “They still never put enough cheese on mine.”
I jerked my head up and stared at her. “What?”
“Cheese.” She scrunched up her nose and piled two pieces onto her plate. “I ask for extra, and I think they assume I’m a toddler because they never, ever give me extra. It’s almost worse to say you want extra, I think.” Sighing heavily, she lifted the slice to her lips, inhaled, then took a huge bite, sauce getting all over her lips. I licked mine on impulse, imagining licking hers until they were clean, until the pizza was forgotten, and it was just me and Lisa.
“Sorry,” I croaked. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, well.” She took another bite and winked. “Can’t win ’em all.”
I shrugged and took a bite out of my own piece, hoping to God that the rest of the evening wasn’t going to be filled with the sound of both of us chewing and nothing else.
“So…” she asked, placing the piece of pizza on the plate and reaching for one of the dish towels I’d brought over. “…you know tae kwon do?”
“What?”
“Fighting.” She grinned. “To protect yourself from terrorists.”
“Very funny.”
“Come on, tell me. I know I don’t get any more questions, but you have to know some sort of self-defense. Let me guess. They kicked you out of karate class because you were too serious.” She tapped her chin. “No wait! I’ve got it! You refused to break the board in half because you were afraid to hurt your hand, so they made you sit out. Bummer.”
A grin spread across my face as she kept guessing. She concocted a story about me being afraid of breaking a toe, hitting the wrong dummy because it wasn’t labeled correctly, and somehow, by her weird math and powers of deduction, that meant I was afraid of all things without labels.
“No,” I finally interrupted. “No, no, and no. I didn’t have a pet cricket like Mulan, and I don’t have a crazy grandmother with a cane that I know of. A dragon would be awesome, but I’m pretty sure now you’re just pulling from the movie, and if I did have to become a geisha, I’d be bad ass at it because I think we’ve established what a perfectionist I am in every aspect of my life, both personal and professional. And to answer your first question, before you decided to Mulan me to death, no, I don’t know karate. But I can shoot a gun, took mixed martial arts for a few years back when I was young enough not to care that my nose might get broken a few times. And yeah, it’s true. When I was six I could do the splits. Happy?”
Lisa burst out laughing then gave a little bow. “See? I knew I could figure you out.”
“Right, Mulan-loving bad ass with a heart of gold. You were so ridiculously close that I got chills. Look, right there. Hairs standing on end.”
“Hmm…” She reached across the couch and placed her warm hand directly on my arm. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Disney gives you chills, who knew?”
“Right.” I leaned forward so I was inches away from her face. “Let’s blame Disney.”
“Well, it’s not the pizza.”
“Or the crickets.”
“Geishas?” She moved closer.
“Negative.”
“Extra cheese dirty talk?”
“Close,” I whispered, my lips almost touching hers.
“Well!” She jerked back. “Then I’m out. I have no idea what it could possibly be.”
I let out a low growl and narrowed my eyes. “Teasing the professor may gain you a bad grade.”
“And what? Kissing your student gets you promoted?”
“I bet Gabe doesn’t win any argument with you, does he?” I joked, looking away so I wouldn’t be tempted to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her again.
She shrugged. “Sometimes I throw him a bone.”
“How horrifyingly degrading.”
“Put that in your label maker and smoke it.”
I rolled my eyes and picked up my plate. “You have an oddly strange fascination with my label maker. Maybe next time you come over I’ll let you have some alone time, just you, the maker, and some wine.” Standing, I held out my hand for her plate and waited.
Lisa handed me her plate but didn’t release her grip right away. “Sounds like a dirty fantasy to me, Professor.”
“And there it is.” I jerked the plate away and fought the urge to laugh out loud. She brought that out in me, the temptation to laugh, to forget responsibility, to just be normal, when I knew I wasn’t anywhere close to being able to own up to that particular word and the meaning behind it.
“So…” Lisa placed her hands on her hips while I put the dishes in the sink. “…Secretary of State, huh?”
My hands shook as they gripped the edge of the counter. With a curse, I bit my lip and stared her down, trying to read her expression, but it was blank, emotionless, like she didn’t give a damn who I was or who my father was.
“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I figured you didn’t want to talk about it.” She tucked her hair behind her ears then crossed her arms. “Besides, I imagine that’s why you liked the mask.”
“Mask?” I rounded the corner back into the living room. “You mean the party?”
She gave a quick nod. “At the party you could be whoever you wanted to be. For a while, you weren’t a CEO, you weren’t the son of a really powerful man, you weren’t even a nerdy professor.”
I smirked.
Her smile grew. “You were just you, and sometimes, well, sometimes it’s nice to remember what that’s like, right? To just be you and not have to worry about anything else in the world.”
“Right.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. “There’s something about… being anonymous, not having to worry about others.”
“I know.” She swallowed convulsively and looked away. “Believe me, I know.”
Did it make me a total ass that I knew more than I let on? That for a minute I was actually judging her for judging me when really I’d been doing nothing but passing that same judgment over and over again until my head spun.
On impulse I held out my hand. “So come with me.”
“What?” Her eyes darted to my hand. “What do you mean?”
“Anonymous…” I was flirting with danger. I could feel it in the way my body heated at the word, the way my blood roared to life. “Tonight, come with me.”
Her breathing turned ragged as she clenched her fingers around my hand tightly. “Where?”
I tugged her in against my body and wrapped my arms around her waist. “That’s just it, wherever we want… anonymous, right?”
Lisa tensed beneath my arms. “Is that what you’re offering me? Just another night, full of masks, full of dancing under the stairs, stolen kisses, and pretending not to know each other the next day?”
I tilted my head and examined her expression, the way I could see her pulse pick up in her neck, the way her body continued to arch toward mine, even though her eyes were unsure. She wanted it; she was just afraid to take it. “Yes Lisa,” I finally said. “That’s exactly what I’m offering. No strings, no commitment, no promises. Just… right now.”
“And tomorrow?”
“It always comes, doesn’t it?”
She nodded, nibbling her lower lip between her teeth. “Even when we’re afraid of what it may bring.”
“I promise to keep you safe… you’ll be with me, no
stalkers, no break-ins, no crying… just us.”
“And if I fall for you?” She looked directly into my eyes. “What then? Who’s going to pick up the pieces?”
“I never thought you’d lie to me.” I searched her gaze. “There won’t be any pieces to pick up, Lisa, because you won’t trust me enough in the first place to give anything, let alone leave it in my hands.”
She gasped.
I kissed her hard on the mouth, backing her toward the door, tangling her hair in my hands, gripping the silk, my tongue exploring her mouth like it was made for me and only me.
“Okay.” She broke away the kiss. “Okay.”
Little did I know that one more night with her would seal my fate forever… would align our destinies in a way I couldn’t possibly fathom.
But that’s what happened when you were blinded by your own attraction. Your own emotions, they rule you. So when you walk by someone taking pictures of you from the shadows… when you hear cursing from the dark corners, you don’t pay attention — because you’re blinded by your lust for her. And that’s where I took my first stumble, not knowing I was taking her with me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“So…” I licked my lips and waited. “…when do you leave?”
Mel looked up, her eyes wide. “Not for another month or so… but, I mean, it’s not finalized I still have to…” Her voice trailed off.
“Don’t lie, Mel.” I shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to find a replacement for you, huh?”
Her face fell. “I’m not abandoning you—”
“Let’s call a spade a spade.” I flicked my cigarette onto the pavement. “You’re abandoning me, but don’t worry, I’ll always be here.” I tapped my fingers against my head and laughed. —The Journal of Taylor B.
Lisa
THE MINUTE WE got into his car, I knew I’d made a mistake. What had I been thinking? After finding out who he really was, what his family was associated with, I was literally the last person on earth he should be with.
Next to murderers on death row. And even then, well… I shuddered. Did he even care about his image? The thought hit me square in the face: of course, he didn’t care. He was teaching. At a university. For a semester.
“When do you leave?” I asked, too curious to keep my mouth shut, even though I knew it was what was best.
“What?” His voice was so smooth it made me forget that he was a bad idea, that we were a horrible idea. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not taking the whole year off.”
He shifted in his seat, a part of his demeanor revealing a bit of nervousness before he straightened up and shrugged. “Christmas. It’s a big deal in our family now that—”
The car swerved.
“Now that?”
“What?” Tristan glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I was distracted by the, um… raccoon.”
I smirked. “Wow, must have been a pretty raccoon to get you to swerve this nice car.”
“I’d probably label it,” he joked. “It was that pretty.” Tristan turned his head to the side, his smile brightening up the mood in the car.
He was clearly unaware of what that smile did to a girl; he shouldn’t be flashing it all over the place if he truly wanted one night of no commitments where I kept my hands to myself, rather than running them through his hair.
I cleared my throat and tapped my fingers against the side of the door. “So, where are we going?”
“Do you have to know everything?” He grinned, taking a turn down a road I didn’t recognize.
“Yes?”
“You plan,” he stated calmly. “I may label things, but you plan, don’t you?”
I coughed into my hand and tucked my hair behind my ear then tried to offer a noncommittal shrug. “Who doesn’t? I’m a college student. I’m basically forced to plan.”
“Not normal things,” He shook his head slightly, taking the next left. “You plan everything, don’t you? Not just your classes and your major, but your life, each month, down to what you’re going to wear the next day on the night before. Tell me you don’t pick out your entire outfit with jewelry before you go to bed at night. Tell me your toothbrush isn’t thrown away every thirty days so you can replace it with a new one,” He reached for my hand. “Tell me you wash your jeans.”
“Wh-what?”
“They aren’t supposed to be washed.” He brushed a kiss across the inside of my wrist. “But you plan, and you like things to be… orderly, so you wash them, just like I’m sure you don’t own a pair of white sneakers for fear they’ll get dirty.”
“Well, white’s stupid.” I jerked my hand away and crossed my arms like a toddler. “And I don’t wash all my jeans.”
His eyebrows arched even though he didn’t look at me.
“Okay, fine. So I wash them after wearing them even for half a day. Not a big deal. And really, isn’t this just calling the kettle black? I mean you label see-through plastic containers. Uh, I think we know they’re strawberries.”
Tristan burst out laughing. “Fine. You’ve got me there.”
“I do.” I nodded sternly. “So we both have… issues.”
“Which makes my idea for tonight perfect.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
Tristan put the car in park and turned off the ignition. “Get out of the car, and I’ll show you.”
I looked around the empty parking lot. We were at a pier I didn’t recognize. “The parking lot’s really dark.”
“Anonymous,” Tristan whispered. “You thought that meant crowds?”
“Well, no.” But really I hadn’t thought parking lot either.
He opened his door. “You can either follow me or stay in the car, but I imagine your curiosity will get the best of you. Another weakness.”
“That isn’t attractive.” I scowled. “Pointing out all my weaknesses.”
“It’s only fair that I point yours out, since mine are so obvious.” Tristan eyed me up and down.
“Name one.”
His whisper was so low I almost didn’t hear it. “I’m looking at her.”
The door slammed behind him.
Without another thought, I rushed out of the car and fell into step beside him. I gripped his hand so tightly it almost hurt.
“Knew you’d see it my way.”
“You’re really controlling.”
“And a compliment.” The moonlight washed over his features, making him look like an angel. “Careful with your pretty words. Don’t want to harm my ego.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your ego is just fine, I’m sure.”
“Always.” He smirked. “Now, up you go.”
“Up? Up where—?”
“There.” He pointed to a dock, where just beyond was a small houseboat.
“It’s like Sleepless in Seattle.”
“Rules…” Tristan stopped me on the middle of the pier, his hand brushing my lower back. “…for our night of anonymity.”
I looked up into his eyes and tried desperately not to get lost in their gray depths, but how was I supposed to keep myself from leaning forward when his body was so warm? His expression both dangerous and inviting. “I’m listening.”
“No phones.” He slid his hand around my backside, carefully lifting my phone from my back pocket, his fingers brushing bare skin across my back in the process.
Goose bumps broke out on my flesh, and I fought the urge to let out a little moan. “Fine.” My confidence was wavering already.
“No pictures.”
“Kinda hard without my phone.”
“True.” He squinted at me and crossed his arms. “No promises.”
I about choked on my tongue at that one. No promises. Neither of us could make a promise. For some reason it reminded me of the games Taylor used to play with me, the twisted ones that ended up hurting other people and me in the process. I’d always been powerless against them, it was a reminder of my old life, a rem
inder I didn’t need in an abandoned parking lot. I shivered. “Fine, no promises.”
“And finally…” Tristan leaned forward his body towering over mine. “…to keep things interesting… absolutely no touching.”
With that, he walked past me and into the house, leaving my body hot, my heart hammering against my ribs, and my mind whirling as to what the heck he had planned other than a mean game of checkers.
Against my better judgment, I followed him into the dark house and shut the door behind me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Take a pill — feel better. Take a pill — feel worse. Take a pill — feel nothing at all. Regardless of the pill, you take it to gain some sort of reaction. In a way, the website was like another type of pill for me. It gave me the reaction I needed to keep going… until one day, it just didn’t. That was the day things fell into place for me, when the plan was finally set in motion, the stopwatch clicked on, and I finally felt at peace. –The Journal of Taylor B
Tristan
THE HOUSE WAS completely dark. All I could see was the outline of the path to the kitchen, and only because the blinds hadn’t been pulled. The door shut softly behind me.
I knew it was Lisa, knew that she had followed me, not knowing what I had planned for her went for longer than just one night, but several nights. Because I’d already decided with my own sick justification to have her, even if she wasn’t mine to have, even if he’d had her first, even if he’d destroyed a part of her I’d probably never be able to get back.
The room was so charged with sexual tension it was almost hard to breathe, and when she stepped up behind me, her clothes brushed my back. I almost slammed her against the wall and just said screw it. It’s not like my moral compass had been actually working as of late. And she woke up something primal in me, something that I hadn’t ever felt. I think I despised it as much as I craved it.
Sighing, I hung my head and let the seconds of charged silence trickle by.
“It won’t be easy,” I whispered. “Letting you in.”
Shame Page 12
