Lingus

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Lingus Page 25

by Mariana Zapata


  "Hey, it's Kieran," the smooth voice on the other end replied.

  "Hi Kieran, how are you?" I looked toward the open layout of the kitchen to make sure that Tristan wasn't eavesdropping even though I was positive that he was doing so.

  "Good, thank you. I'm sorry I haven't gotten a chance to call you sooner—," he said.

  I smirked to myself before sitting on the couch. "It's fine."

  "Oh, okay," he paused for a moment, allowing me to imagine him blushing on the other end. "I was wondering if you were free anytime soon?"

  Ohhh. While my stomach didn't drop at his question, I felt bad. He seemed like such a nice guy, and if the jackass in the kitchen hadn’t have gotten his shit together since our last fated date, then I would probably be heading on another date with Kieran. But I wasn't. No square inch of me wanted another date with him now that Tristan and I seemed to be somewhat on the same page. I didn't want to be a bitch, or string him along just to avoid telling him that I was seeing someone else just a few days later. Ugh.

  "Umm," I giggled nervously, wracking my brain for ideas and coming up with nothing. "I know we just went out, but..." I groaned, feeling like a huge bitch. "I started seeing someone."

  "Well," he chuckled but I could hear the tension in his voice. "I understand."

  Silence ensued for too long.

  "This is so awkward. I'm sorry. It was nice meeting you. I think you're a great guy...." Jesus, I was a blabbering mess.

  "It was nice meeting you too. Take care," he said.

  I made another face at the phone. "You too. Bye," I squeaked out.

  Kieran murmured a goodbye in response before we both hung up. I groaned and tossed my phone back into my purse, shaking my head to no one. Slapping the top of my thighs I stood up and marched into the kitchen to find Tristan sitting on a stool with his arms crossed over his chest. I raised an eyebrow in his direction before sitting on the chair opposite his. "Yes?" I questioned him.

  "If I wasn't so irritated that you went on a date with that guy, I'd probably tell you that that phone call was one of the most awkward conversations I've ever heard in my life," he snickered.

  I scoffed, kicking away the thought that he had done so much worse than going on a simple date that didn't even end with a kiss. "You're nosey."

  His eyes widened in amusement. "I don't think you're one to talk, goldie."

  "Oh, shut up," I laughed before flicking his earlobe, hoping to steer away from the previous conversation. "What were you telling me before you eavesdropped on my conversation?"

  Tristan shifted forward in his seat and smiled. "Do you remember me telling you I have a convention to go to next week?" he asked.

  I nodded because I did remember him mentioning that he only had one more engagement before Robby was officially retired. Hallelujah. "Yeah."

  "Come with me," he said in a voice that was entirely too insecure to be normal for Tristan.

  My eyebrow rose on its own as I took in his suggestion. He wanted me to go with him to a porn convention? "You want me to?" I asked slowly, just to make sure I understood correctly.

  "Yes. I only have to be there for an hour to do a signing, and I'm getting my hotel room and flight paid for by my sponsor, so we'd have time to go do things," he said with a waggle of thick, dark eyebrows.

  Instantly, I felt terrible. With Nicole's wedding coming up, and the expenses I knew were tied with having to pay for my bridesmaid dress, hotel, food, and travel for her wedding in Vegas, it was swallowing up the money in my savings. I tried not to let the smile on my face show my disappointment, but I'm pretty sure I failed miserably. "I can't, I'm sorry. I'd like to, but I don't have the money with Nikki and Calum's wedding next month," I explained to him honestly.

  He frowned and shook his head. "I'll pay for your ticket, Kat. It'll be my treat."

  I narrowed my eyes in his direction and shook my head, too. "That's too much, Mag. I can't let you do that."

  "Goldie, it's not a big deal at all, I swear. You can thank my grandma later. I want you to come with me to L.A. It'll be your early birthday present," he sighed. I caught onto the fact that he mentioned my birthday, and I knew for sure I'd never told him when it was. I figured I'd ask him about it later because all I could focus on was that he was really trying to get me to tag along. "We can go to Disneyland if you want or go to that museum with the tar—"

  "The La Brea Tar Pits?" I asked.

  Tristan nodded at me slowly, knowing I was falling for his reasoning. I mean, shit, the porn had been what made us meet, and I'd have to live with the idea that there were videos of him with other females all over the internet for however long we were friends, or whatever it is that we were. Would it be so wrong of me to at least take advantage of this last trip? I knew my dad would tell me it was too soon to go on a trip with a guy who wasn't exactly my boyfriend and let him pay, but fuck it. The La Brea Tar Pits? Disneyland?

  I chose to ignore the fact that I'd be forced to probably look from afar as a bunch of women threw themselves at Robby Lingus one last time.

  Plus, I couldn't help but get a little excited that he was inviting me to go somewhere away with him. I think my vag screamed in excitement.

  "Make it Universal Studios and I'm in."

  Chapter 46

  Before I knew it, it was Thursday of the following week, and I was sitting on Tristan's bed, watching him pack to go be Robby Lingus one last time. According to him, for the very last time. I'd been so busy finishing up my book over the course of the last week and helping Nicole choose her wedding dress, that time flew by. My mornings were spent with Zoey at the gym or in yoga class, my afternoons at the apartment writing, and my evenings and nights were a solid mixture of Tristan and my three closest friends.

  My relationship, or whatever it technically was, with Tristan made me beyond happy. Friendship with him was easy and seamless to begin with and now with the addition of welcomed touches and kisses, our time together was just that much better. Our words together were the same, it was just our interactions that were different. He never asked for more than my mouth. My mouth on his mouth to be specific and I kind of liked it a lot.

  It made me feel special to know that he wasn't just trying to get into my pants. For someone who hadn't been in a real relationship in maybe six years, I had to be a little wary of his intentions with me. The last two girls he 'dated' weren't exactly girlfriends I liked to think, because you couldn't be in a real relationship with someone if they didn't know your real name, right?

  I also wanted him to know in case he didn't already, that I liked him for his personality; I liked his laugh, his snort, his hands, his humor, his stupidity, his love for Yoda, and most days it seemed like the list was endless. I'd never had a boyfriend that I liked for reasons other than enjoying their personalities. One of my boyfriends, Christian, was a devout Catholic. Raised in a home with a father for a deacon, I knew from the beginning of our relationship that he was waiting to have sex until marriage. What's funny is that only three months later, he broke up with me because he thought we were getting too serious, and by that I mean that he came in his pants twice while we were just making out.

  Something told me that if Tristan came while we made out, I would probably like him just as much if not more. Ha.

  "Am I going to need a bathing suit?" the velvet voice asked me from across the room.

  I was lying across his bed, belly down with my face cradled between my hands, watching him pack up for our trip the next day. Unlike the last minute mess that was getting ready before me, I had Nicole come over and help me pack the night before. According to her, I wouldn't have chosen the right thing to wear to get my ice cream sandwich eaten. To think that she was the most highly educated person I knew.

  "Unless you're planning on going to the pool with me naked, then yes," I told him, trying to talk myself out of imagining him naked.

  "No bathing suit it is then," he laughed, tossing the black board shorts onto the bed a foot away from me. H
e rifled through the drawers in the infamous condom dresser and pulled out a handful of t-shirts, making a strange noise deep in his throat with his back still turned to me. "Should I bring earplugs?"

  "Why would you need them?"

  He snorted and I should've known he was setting me up. "For your snoring, Sleeping Beauty."

  "Shut up, jackass. I don't snore," I told him, throwing the board shorts he'd just tossed onto the bed on the floor.

  Apple green eyes looked at me from over his shoulder, his mouth pulled back into a smirk. "You sound cute, it's fine. I just need to make sure your chainsaw noises won't keep me up all night," he snorted again. A few minutes of comfortable silence later, he spoke. "On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you about going to LA?"

  "An eleven," I said, petting Yoda's thick coat. The big beast lay right next to me, belly up with his gigantic balls on exhibition. I really was beyond excited to go. I hadn't gone on vacation since Spring Break, when Josh and I went to visit his parents in New York, and it'd been years since the last time I'd gone to California. Pair that in with sharing a room with Tristan, and it was any woman's dream come true. Nikki had suggested I not bring pajamas so I'd have an excuse to sleep in my birthday suit, but yeah, no.

  "Me too," he said with a smile before throwing one of the t-shirts at my face. He came over and sat on the bed right next to me, pulling on my ponytail. "I used to dread going but now I'm looking forward to it."

  "Why?" I asked, looking at a dark spot on Yoda's coat instead of looking up at my human friend instead. The potential answer to my question made me nervous, there was so much I wanted to know but also didn't.

  Hot fingertips stroked the shell of my ear sensually. "I'm done after this, goldie. I can quit buying hair dye, I don't have to lie to my parents anymore..." his silky voice trailed off, and my heart clenched just the smallest bit.

  I didn't know what I was expecting him to say, what I wanted him to say. Confess his unconditional love for me? Credit me for being the sole purpose he was leaving behind the sexing up of God knows how many women a year? I should be glad, ecstatic even, that he was leaving the porn behind regardless of the reason, but I could only blame myself and Zoey for building up my expectations. I couldn't be upset with him for being honest with me. The smile on my face was forced, but I hoped he couldn't tell.

  "I'm happy that you're happy," I said a little too weakly.

  Tristan sighed, exhaling so deeply the warm breath washed over my face. "I've been very happy for the last two weeks."

  There was no way that those words weren't genuine and almost enough to make up for the disappointment I'd felt seconds before. "Me too."

  "Why's that?" he asked, trailing a long finger over the skin under my ear.

  I snorted. Tristan was too much. I swear sometimes I thought he was just as insecure as a teenage girl when it came to certain things, and I sure as hell wasn't going to fall into that. "I bought a new hummingbird," I said in my most even voice.

  The mattress right next to me shifted with his weight change until I felt his heat looming over me. "I'd like to meet this hummingbird one day."

  Holy Mother.

  Chapter 47

  I was squirming in my seat and couldn't help it. At. All. I was also glad that Zo didn't have leather seats. I was moving around so much I'd probably be making farting noises that she would never let me live down. It was kind of a silly worry considering she'd let two rip since I'd gotten into the car. Zoey kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye trying to be slick. Unfortunately for her, this was Zoey, and I knew everything about her. She was the size of a roach and made noises that rivaled those of an elephant. She was the antonym to the word inconspicuous. All day I'd been itching in my skin to leave, subconsciously going as far as to wake up a full hour earlier than normal out of excitement for the beginning of the trip. My bag was zipped and sitting by the front door for more than forty-eight hours.

  Being that she was the best half-woman half-child in the world, she was keeping Matlock for me through the weekend and driving me to the airport. Tristan had offered to come pick me up after taking Yoda to his parent's house, but after he told me where his parents lived, it just seemed like a big inconvenient circle of driving to do so.

  The smile on her delicate features was deceiving, on anyone else that slanted pull of lips and cheek would seem like a sweet smile but on this girl, I knew whatever thoughts were rolling through that head were anything but sweet.

  Cue the Zoey word vomit.

  "Did you bring condoms with you?" her falsetto voice floated through the air.

  Jesus Christ. "No, I didn't. Thank you very much."

  She nodded, facing forward while changing lanes. "That's fine. We have to get tested all the time and I think Tristan, I mean Robby, always wears a condom—"

  I couldn't help the way my neck tensed at the mention of Robby and his dick's doings. Who wants to imagine that the person they have feelings for, the person who likes to snuggle on the couch, and gives soft kisses, had also created a career out of having sex with women who had monster tits and bleached assholes? Not me. I knew that it was only because of my unconditional love for Zoey and my decent amount of self-esteem that I was even able to sit in her car on my way to a weekend of fun and porn conventions.

  Zoey sighed so deeply it seemed like she had held in each breath that she'd taken the entire morning. She turned to look at me for a split second, a soft smile and a wink on her face. "I think it's really cute you two haven't jumped the gun. I mean, I want you to get some sooner than later but I'm glad you're taking your time, KAB."

  "Thanks, Zo," I told her, reaching across the console to pinch the skin on her forearm. "I'm not doing it intentionally, he hasn't pushed and I haven't either."

  The wistful look on her face before she nodded in understanding tugged at me, as she pulled her car over to the curb at the airport drop-off section. I was out of the car and yanking out my small carry-on suitcase from her trunk before she threw her arms around me as she told me to have a good time.

  I turned around to find Tristan standing at the massive sliding doors with his duffel bag at his feet, grinning like the idiot he was. He threw up a hand to wave me over and in no time, we had checked into our flight, dropped off his duffel bag for check-in because of that damned hair dye, and fought over who got to roll my suitcase around since I refused to let him pay money to check it in. "You're such a pain in the ass," I muttered to him once he snatched the handle of my suitcase away from me, starting to drag it down the wide corridor toward our gate.

  "Your short legs are kind of a pain in the ass," he snapped back with a snort.

  "Three-fourths of the population has shorter legs than you do, ass. Quit walking so fast!" I huffed, taking quick steps to catch up to him.

  He turned to look at me over his wide shoulder and grinned, switching his hold on the handle from his right arm to his left. He held his now empty hand out just a few inches away from his body, but with his fingers extended wide and close to me. I stared at his digits for a few seconds while trying to decide whether or not he was holding it out for me, or not, but those green orbs flickered up to my own. All I could see was some strange emotion that rivaled fear or maybe indecision staring back at me.

  My hand slipped up from its spot on my side over to clasp onto the tips of his fingers. He grinned at me, entwining our fingers together. We walked together silently until we reached the terminal, plopping down on two seats to wait for our flight. "What do you want to do when we get there?" he asked, leaning over the armrest between us to speak directly into my ear.

  He was so hot it was ethereal. He was perfect with his sharp jaw, straight nose, full lips, and bulging bicep muscles tightening the material of his flannel shirt. I deserved to win an award for managing to focus in his presence. "Let's drive down Hollywood?" I suggested trying to talk coherently, while his thumb brushed small circles over the webbing of skin between my own thumb and index finger.

 
"Whatever you want, goldie," he said with a smirk.

  I should have quit being a pussy and told him that he was what I wanted. For that moment. Forever. Whatever. I didn't though, because I was scared. I knew we needed to talk and determine exactly what we were, because I hated the feeling of indecisiveness and freedom between us since there weren't any words that had cemented us together. For all I knew, he might have been into the idea of an open relationship, which would kill me inside, but then I remembered that he admitted having punched the wall out of jealousy, so he couldn't really be into that idea either.

  What I wanted to hear was his words. I'd make sure to get that during the weekend if nothing else.

  Chapter 48

  "It looks cooler on television," I whined to Tristan, talking about Hollywood Boulevard.

  He smiled at me and shrugged, as he pulled our rental car into one of the spots at the front of the hotel we were staying at. We had just spent the last two hours driving through Hollywood's shitty traffic while I looked out the window at the various buildings and attractions I'd only seen on the tube in the past, and then stopped to eat at a random diner close to the hotel. He'd suggested that we pull over to sightsee, but I convinced him it was okay to head straight to the hotel since it was already close to midnight and I was pooped. We got out of the car, and I helped him pull my suitcase out of the trunk.

 

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