“Not even a little,” he said, backing up. “Come on in.”
“I shouldn’t stay,” I said, glancing at the window, even though I knew my parents couldn’t see up into the apartment. They knew where I was and I didn’t dare stay long enough for them to come find me. Still, it was reasonable to help him with the food. I toed off my shoes and nudged them to the side of the door. “I’ll just put this in your fridge.”
“Can I get you anything?” He asked, closing the door behind me and following me to the kitchen. “A drink or apparently I have party foods to offer.”
“You do, but I’m set, thanks. I just had breakfast.” I put the platter on the counter and opened his fridge, noticing it was very organized: sodas and bottles of water lined up on the left side, veg in the crisper, eggs on the right. I didn’t want to mess up his system, which I figured was important. “What’s the best way to do this? It’s a big platter; there are carrot and celery sticks, sausage rolls, some puff pastry things, cheese slices...”
“Are there any of those salmon puff things on there?”
I looked down. “Yeah, a few.”
“Can you get those off there? Those were disgusting. If I eat one by accident and puke, I’m holding you responsible.”
I laughed and pulled up the corner of the plastic wrap to dig out the hors d’ouevres in question. They were gross, and I’d begged my mother not to make them, but she seemed to think people would like them. I assumed the garbage was in a bin under the sink, so I opened the cabinet and—as I was correct—dropped them in before recovering the platter. “There you go, no more salmon puffs.”
“Thanks,” he said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Crisis averted.”
“Just slide the whole thing on the bottom shelf, which should be empty. Does anything need to be cooked before I eat it?”
“No, it’s all cooked, though you might want to heat up the sausage rolls.”
His right eyebrow lifted above his glasses.
“Or not. I’m sure they’re fine cold,” I said, laughing because my brother wouldn’t heat them up either, nor, for that matter, would my dad. Guys. I slid the platter into the fridge as directed, making sure the plastic wrap stayed on and was tucked tightly around the food.
I closed the fridge door and turned. He was suddenly right there, so close I could feel the waves of heat from his body. I gasped. He tossed his glasses on the counter with a clatter and then I found myself up against the fridge, his body pressing into mine. His hands landed on either side of my face and his lips came down on my mouth before I was able to do more than gurgle half of his name.
Oh God, I thought. And then thought completely left me, replaced only by information gathered by my senses. My hands rose to his warm chest, sliding up his hard pecs and around his neck. He groaned and his tongue brushed over my bottom lip before his mouth moved across my jaw and behind my ear. I arched my neck, giving him better access to that spot, the one that made me completely melt and question the ability of my knees to hold me upright. My eyes rolled back as I inhaled his heady masculine scent that was part soap, part him.
“Mmm, God...” I hummed, my fingers digging into the hair at the back of his neck.
He groaned again, whether at my words or because of what he was doing, I don’t know, but it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it amped me up more.
“You taste so good,” he murmured into my neck. His hands slid down my body to land on my hips, pulling me against him right where it mattered.
That made things get very real very quickly. Alarm bells went off and I knew we were approaching the point of no return. Despite how much my body wanted it in that second, a tiny part of my brain knew it was a bad place to be. I brought my hands to his chest and gently pushed him back. “Tristan,” I said, my voice gravelly. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Tristan, we have to stop.”
He growled but backed up after a second. “Sorry,” he said, his eyes closed as he pushed his fingers through his hair, making his arm bulge in a way that made my ovaries take notice. “I know I said I wasn’t going to do this, but I can’t get you out of my head after last night. And then you show up at my door this morning.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. I never meant to make this even more complicated. Okay, maybe I totally wanted to kiss him again, and would not take back the last several minutes for anything, but I realized I was playing with fire. “I should go.”
“Probably a good idea,” he said, his breathing still heavy, but returning to normal. He felt around for his glasses and shoved them back on his face before he held his hand out toward the doorway for me to precede him.
“You know,” I said, taking in that chest as I walked past him. “If you’d worn a shirt to the door, none of this would have happened.”
He barked a laugh. “How do you figure? I attacked you against the fridge.”
“It was inevitable; I gave you signals.”
“Those must be very strong signals.”
I looked over my shoulder at him, for my own benefit. “It is a very nice chest.”
He dipped his head, but was smirking. “Well, I haven’t been working out lately, but I will take that compliment nonetheless. Thank you, my lady.”
I couldn’t imagine what he would look like if he was even more cut, but my brain was thankful not to have to resist him at his most fit: this was difficult enough. “Enjoy your party food,” I said, slipping on my shoes.
“I will. Thank you for delivering it.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Mine as well,” he said, just about killing me.
God, I needed to run. Fast.
“I’ll see you later.” I pulled open the door behind me and ducked out before either of us could lean in for another kiss.
Is That A Duster in Your Pocket?
“What is this?”
I looked up from my plate of party leftovers (cheese, crackers, veggies and a couple of sausage rolls, no salmon puffs, thankfully) to see my mother standing in the doorway, holding up my phone.
Crap. “A cell phone,” I said stupidly. But I was stupid. How had I not clued in when she had pulled a pile of fresh sheets out of the linen closet? For the first time ever, I wished she would make good on those threats that one day she was going to make me do my own bed. Though I guess I should have known I was going to get busted with the phone sooner or later. So much for being careful.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“It’s a disposable,” I said before she could freak out. “And I’ve only used it with Kaylee, who has one exactly the same—hers is disposable, too.”
“Kaylee? This is the girl from your school who’s dating the duke?”
“Future duke,” I corrected, nodding.
“Did your brother get this for you?”
I was tempted to blame it on him, especially since he still wasn’t home and it was nearly four pm on New Year’s Day, but I wasn’t quite that bad of a sister. “No,” I said.
“How did you get it, then?”
I cringed.
She rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. “We are trying to keep you safe, you know, young lady.”
Ugh. The young lady meant she was really pissed, though I wasn’t sure how they could punish me at this point. I was basically grounded already; the next step would be bread and water rations. Or maybe salmon puffs... “I know, Mom.”
She exhaled loudly before she called for my father.
Double crap.
He came out of his study. “What?”
Mom held up the phone like it was a bag of drugs or something equally heinous. “Your daughter has a cell phone. It seems she has been out of the apartment at least once,” she glanced at me, but I wasn’t about to give anything else up. “...and bought it for herself.”
Dad looked from the phone to me. “This true?”
I nodded.
“It’s disposable, untraceable,” I said, in case that helped.
D
ad sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers and pushing his glasses up on his forehead. “I suppose I knew it was grossly unfair to keep you cooped up in here. And that you went and did this—which I am not happy about, don’t get me wrong,” he said, aiming a very pointed look at me. “...is not surprising.”
I swallowed, unsure where this was going and just how much trouble I was in. “I kept my face covered with my scarf and hat when I went out. I’m not stupid,” I assured him, though getting caught was certainly evidence to the contrary.
“I know you’re not. And I was probably being stupid when I imposed this on you.”
“I understand why, Dad. I know it’s dangerous for me right now. I get that.”
“But you are smart,” he said, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “And I need to remember that, and that you are resourceful and observant. I trust you. It scares me to have you being so vulnerable, but if you promise me you’ll be safe about it, I’m not going to keep you inside anymore.”
He barely got out the last words before I threw my arms around him.
“Thank you!” I said. “I will be safe, I promise.”
He grunted as I squeezed him probably way harder than I should have, so I let go.
“I know you will. I still want you to home-school with your mother, but you can go out again, just keep yourself covered. At least for the next little while, okay?”
I glanced at Mom who still looked concerned, her arms crossed at her chest. She wouldn’t go back on what Dad said, though. If he was satisfied I could be safe, she’d go along with that. I turned back to Dad. “Uh, do you think it would be okay if I meet up with Kaylee? I’d really like to see her before she goes back to the States in two days.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “She’s getting a lot of press, which makes me very nervous. I don’t want her coming here in case she’s followed by one of those rats with cameras.”
Understandably, Dad was not a fan of the paparazzi. Especially these days.
“I’m sure we can figure something out,” I said, now that it was a possibility, more desperate than ever to see her. “Maybe I can take a car with tinted windows over to Declan’s place?”
“That might arouse more suspicion,” Mom said. “They’ve probably got people hanging out there just waiting for comings and goings.”
I looked to my father for an answer.
He looked back at me and nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Why don’t you find out when she’s free and I’ll coordinate something?” He cocked his head. “I’m about to get hugged again, aren’t I?”
I laughed. “Big time.”
~ ♥ ~
“Brooklyn, every single word of this story is unbelievably crazy,” Kaylee said once I’d finished telling her everything about Tristan and what had happened. We were in Declan’s formal sitting room on the day after New Year’s Day, thanks to my father and his agency wizardry. He’d arranged to have me smuggled in via a van full of legitimate cleaners who were scheduled that day anyway, the paparazzi out front none the wiser. It was almost too easy, though I realized that was a very good thing and prayed nothing would go sideways.
Upon arriving, while the cleaners scattered to start in on their work, I’d been introduced to Declan’s parents, who seemed very nice and down to earth, especially for how ginormous their mansion was and how rich they had to be. I also met Declan’s brother who was almost as handsome as Declan, but not quite as charming. And of course, I got a chance to give Declan (who I tried to remember to call Edmund while we were in his house) a big hug and thank you for everything he’d done for me. During the hug, I whispered into his ear that he’d done a great job with Kaylee’s gift and she might be grumbling about it, but she loved it. I was sure he knew it, but he did thank me for the reassurance.
Finally, his family disappeared and Kaylee gave Declan a pointed look and said we were going to spend some ‘girl time’ alone which was his cue to disappear. He did, after reminding Kaylee with a wink to only speak the truth about him. God, but he was charming. And one look at my friend told me she was still totally smitten with him. That made me very happy, even though I was pretty sad about her going back to the States and leaving me behind.
So now having already dispensed with the big hug and her showing me that now infamous bracelet and each of its charms, confirming that not only was he a future duke, but a romantic and sweet guy, we were onto my situation.
“Right?” I agreed. “Totally crazy. I had no idea who he was. How do I manage to get myself into these situations?”
“It’s obviously your superpower,” she said, her eyes like saucers. “It’s like a movie of the week, though a bit more tawdry, what with you being underage and all.”
“I’m not technically underage,” I reminded her. “At least from a legal perspective. In fact, I’ll be eighteen in a couple of weeks.”
She gave me a withering look.
“I know,” I said. “It’s a stretch because he’s twenty-six. But what am I supposed to do?”
Kaylee frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly as I said: what do I do now?”
“You can’t do anything. He thinks you’re way older than you are. He doesn’t know who you are and if he found out...well, it’s doomed no matter what.”
“You can’t see a loophole here anywhere?” I was convinced if anyone could find a way to make it work, the very clever Kaylee could. Probably Emmie could, too, in something more of a bull-in-a-china-shop way, but she was a continent away and this situation required more finesse.
“No, I’m sorry, Brooklyn.” She said with a slow shake of her head. “I can’t see how you can possibly carry on with him without completely lying to him. That’s not what you want to do, is it?”
The thought had crossed my mind, especially when the picture of his bare chest or the feel of his lips on mine came rushing into my head. “He is so flipping hot, Kaylee. If you met him, you’d understand. And it’s not even just that. He’s so...”
“Sexy? Damaged? In need of the kind of fixing only you can provide?”
I scrunched up my face at her. “That’s not exactly what I was thinking. You sound like Celia with her alpha-male romance novels.”
“With all due respect, you sound like the heroine from one of them.”
“I thought you didn’t read them?”
She smirked. “I may have picked up one or two.”
“For the naughty bits.”
She blushed. “No,” she said unconvincingly. “I skip over those.”
“Right.” I said, giving her a knowing look. “Anyway, it’s not just about the physical stuff. He’s different. He...” I shrugged, unable to explain what I felt about Tristan.
She gave my hand a sympathetic pat with her own, making me feel like I was pouring my guts out to someone’s tea-drinking, blue-haired grandmother; it certainly fit the setting, I thought as I eyed the dainty teapot on the table in front of us.
“Believe me, Brooklyn I do understand, but it doesn’t matter how hot he is. You know where this is going. It was doomed from the second you lied to him about your age.”
“No,” I said. “From before that. If he knew I was seventeen, none of it would have happened. I’m sure of it.”
She nodded, making me feel worse.
I swiped away a sudden tear. “He told me I’m beautiful. He...” I sniffled. “He’s blind, but he sees right into me, you know? Like...” I had been about to say, like Brady did, but didn’t want to go down that road, not silently in my own head, let alone out loud with Kaylee. I looked down at my hands in my lap, watching as a tear fell onto my sleeve.
“He’s a smart guy,” she said, her voice gentle, and I could tell she was hurting for me. “And you are beautiful, inside and out. Of course he saw that in you. Brady and Dave and Jared saw it, too.”
That just made me cry harder.
“Crap, I’m sorry, Brooklyn. I didn’t mean to make you even more upset. What I meant
was, if they all saw how amazing you are, others will, too.”
“I miss my life,” I said. “I want to go back with you so badly. Why does everything I touch turn into a big pile of crap?”
She exhaled and then leaned forward to hug me. “It doesn’t, don’t be silly.”
The stupid tears wouldn’t stop. I pulled back from her and wiped them with my sleeve. “You’re kidding, right? Everything I do hurts me or someone else. Or both. I’m surprised you even want to be friends with me. Aren’t you worried I’m going to jinx you?”
“Not at all,” she said. “And I don’t think you jinx everything. You knew going in that this thing with Tristan wasn’t going to work, but you went ahead and did it anyway. That’s not a jinx, that’s stuff going the way it was always going to go. You’re just unhappy about it not somehow working out, even though it was impossible.”
I frowned at her. “How very pragmatic of you. Thanks.”
“Aw, come on,” she said, squeezing my arm. “You’ll find someone else. I know you will.”
“What should I do about Tristan, though? I swear, if I get in his orbit again, we’re going to end up making out.”
“I think you should get some will power and stay away from him. Also, I think you need to be honest with him.”
I cringed. “That’s a bad idea. Both parts.”
Kaylee rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want the truth.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I know. It’s just...have I mentioned how hot he is?”
“No,” she said, feigning innocence. “Can you tell me all about it?”
We laughed and then she told me all about all the parties she’d been to and all the fancy people she’d met since being in London. We compared notes about London and then, when it was time for me to go, we hugged again for a long time before we promised each other we’d stay in touch via our cell phones. Kaylee said she was going to get hers transferred to a US number, and promised she’d text me with it as soon as she did.
I gave her one more hug and thanked Declan and his family before I got back into the van, my happiness over seeing my friends suddenly overwhelmed by the sadness I felt in losing them all over again.
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