“From around here. Kelsey and Briana, maybe.” He shrugged.
“Kelsey and Briana?”
“The girls from the club,” he responded before grinning that charming, lopsided grin again that stole my breath every fucking time.
I frowned for a moment before catching myself. “Right, Kelsey and Briana. I’ll tell Silas and Drew.”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Georgia.”
I frowned as I watched him saunter back into the house. His demeanor was so off. This wasn’t the Tristan I’d become close with over the summer. Was this the real him? He'd never been like this toward me before, but what was he being? Friendly? Open? Honest? What was missing? Was this the Tristan that wasn't trying to get in my pants―treating me just like one of the guys? The thought sat uneasy with me.
I sighed and took a sip of coffee. If this was how it was going to be between us I’d have to get used to it. I wasn’t sure if I preferred this or the awkward tension that had permeated the house the last few days. I would miss the sweet, thoughtful, friendly Tristan from earlier this summer.
* * *
I WAS IN the kitchen chugging a glass of water when Tristan wandered in a few nights later. His hair was perfectly tousled with a few stray wisps falling over his forehead. All the time we'd been spending in the sun had streaked his hair golden and brought out the bright green of his eyes. He looked devastating.
I had finished painting the porch in unbearably humid temperatures and was still in a grungy, paint-splattered tank top and a pair of ratty shorts, my hair in a floppy ponytail with loose chunks falling out. I looked a hot mess, minus the hot. Or if the hot referred to the temperature of my skin, in that case, then yes, I was a hot mess.
“What's up?” I gave him my best bright grin.
“Headed out.” He flipped through his wallet before sliding it in his back pocket.
“Date?” The word escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
He quirked one eyebrow at me before responding. “Something like that,” he answered.
“No time for dinner?” Here I was, making awkward conversation with Tristan.
“Sorry. Leftovers maybe?”
“Okay. Have fun.” And now I sounded like his parent.
“Always.”
I looked up after a few moments when he hadn't moved or said anything else.
“You okay, Georgia?” He came a few steps closer. I backed away immediately, afraid to get into his personal space. My brain had a history of going fuzzy when I did.
“Great,” I forced a smile.
“You’re not lying?” His gaze traveled up my body, heating my skin, before landing on my eyes.
“Why would I lie? I’m with Kyle and you’re with…whomever.” I finished awkwardly. His eyes seared into me. The emotion swirling in them was mesmerizing. I wanted desperately to know what he was thinking but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. It didn't even matter. I had chosen Kyle. And he was with anyone he wanted to be with.
A horn honked outside. We both looked to the door then back to each other.
His lips parted as if he was going to say something and then closed again. I gave him a small smile to ease the tension between us.
“Sounds like you’re wanted,” I whispered, still unable to turn away from his gaze.
“Seems so. Later, Georgia.” His eyes held mine for another breathless moment before he turned and strolled out the front door.
I leaned over the sink to look down to the driveway. A shiny, red Mustang sat idling with a long-legged blonde in a short mini-skirt waiting at the door. She wrapped her arms around Tristan and pressed her lips to his. When she pulled away, a sexy grin lit his face as he ran a hand up her thigh and over her ass. I swallowed back the painful ache in my throat and backed away from the window. I headed for the hottest shower I could possibly take, trying to focus on anything other than the image of that girl's long legs wrapped around Tristan’s waist tonight.
* * *
“RISE AND SHINE, cupcake!” Drew and I knocked on Tristan's door early the next morning with paint cans in tow.
“Maybe he didn't come home last night?” Drew said as she knocked on the door again. Still no answer.
“I told him we were painting his room today, so maybe he stayed on the boat last night,” I said.
“He had a date, didn’t he? I didn't hear him come in―” Drew opened the door and we walked in.
“Oh my God.” I stared at Tristan's naked body, a white sheet draped below his hips, barely covering his lower half. One tanned forearm crossed over his eyes to block the light in his sleep and another stretched out on the pillow next to him. His bare torso was deliciously tan and chiseled with the lightest dusting of hair that disappeared below the white sheet at his waist. My body would be in full-blown lust mode if it wasn't for the pale arm draped across his abdomen. Long, blonde hair fanned across the pillow and one perfectly curvy leg was thrown over his legs.
My heart leapt into my throat at the sight before me. It felt like I’d walked onto the set of a porn movie. Some terrible morning-after scene that would be burned into my memory forever. Whenever I closed my eyes I would see them lying like this. I would picture them fucking all night, in all different positions; moans and grunts and the smell of sex filling the room. Was he sweet to her like he was to me? Did he use a condom with her? Or did he beg her to go without like he had me? Tears stung my eyes at the thought.
Just then Tristan heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes before they flickered open and caught sight of Drew and I standing in the doorway. I suddenly felt like I needed to throw up.
“Way to bring your skank home, Tristan.” Drew shot him a glare. I stood motionless beside her, my eyes boring into his, imploring him to say something, or nothing, I wasn't sure.
“Sorry,” I finally choked out as I grabbed Drew and backed out of the doorway. Tristan's eyes held mine the entire time. Was he mad that we'd barged in? Maybe he was still drunk from the night before. Or had a hangover. I was going to kill myself all day with the thoughts running through my head.
“We’re painting.” Drew lifted the can in her hand. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get her out,” she spat. Tristan's eyes shot up in surprise before Drew slammed the door on his beautiful face.
“Another cup of coffee?” I set the paint can in the kitchen and made my way to the coffee pot. I needed something to occupy my mind and my hands.
“Sure,” Drew answered as I filled our cups and we made our way out to the porch.
“So that was awkward.” Drew cast a sideways glance at me.
“Not really,” I lied, something I was doing often lately.
“Definitely, really. You don't have to pretend, Georgia. It was awkward for me; I can't imagine what it must have been like for you.”
“It wasn't like anything for me. We’re nothing, friends at best and some days I’m not even sure we’re that.”
“Hmm.” Drew took another sip.
“Later, babe.” We heard Tristan's voice in the kitchen. Drew and I both peeked through the open windows. The breeze blew the curtains so we caught only glimpses of their morning-after goodbye. The unnamed girl laid a passionate kiss on his lips and he slapped her on the bottom playfully. She still wore the mini-skirt from the night before.
“He is such a slut. I hate him,” Drew said as Tristan’s date left. A giggle burst out of my throat at Drew's declaration. Tristan must have heard us because he turned and arched an eyebrow. He looked seven shades of sexy first thing in the morning. It didn't help that he was dressed only in his jeans from last night―no shirt. Perfect just-had-sex hair. I rolled my eyes at his ever-present flawlessness. I kind of hated him too.
“Something funny?” Tristan grabbed a cup of coffee then joined us on the deck. He stood at the railing and took a sip, looking at the water.
“Can't you put on a shirt?” The words slid out of my mouth before I could stop them. He turned to me before a smile lifted the corner of his perfect,
sculpted lips.
“How drunk were you last night to bring that home?” Drew sneered.
“Not drunk at all, actually,” he responded. It was like a punch to my gut. He'd been completely sober and brought someone home, had a long night of crazy sexy sex in my house with no remorse, and allowed us to walk in on him. I thought I might throw up. A drunken hookup would have been so much easier to handle. The realization dawned: that’s what he and I had―a drunken hookup. We'd both been wasted the night we'd been together. Tears burned behind my eyelids and I jumped up, sloshing the coffee from my cup.
“Fuck,” I swore as the hot coffee burned my hand.
“Are you okay?” Tristan cupped my burned hand in his.
“I’m fine. We have lots of painting to do. Sorry we woke you, Tristan.” I launched back into the house, dropped my cup in the sink and grabbed the paint cans, making my way to Tristan's room.
My plan of escape was, however, not well thought out; his window was wide open and I could hear every bitchy remark Drew was throwing at him.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Tristan?”
“What?” he replied.
“You’re hurting her.”
“Hurting her? She's with Kyle. She chose Kyle.”
“So why do you have to slut all over town?” Drew seethed.
“I’m doing what I’ve always done, Drew. Lay off. Not your business or hers. I’m sorry you had to walk in and see it, but maybe next time you’ll think twice before opening my door.”
“You can bet on that. I’m going to have to scrub the image of your skank-fest from my brain.”
There was no response from Tristan.
“We didn't think you were in there,” she said quietly. “And we especially didn't think you would have someone in there with you,” Drew finished.
“Sorry you had to see it,” he said frankly. He had no remorse whatsoever and why should he? This was his room for the summer and he'd said himself, this is what he did. And he was right, I had chosen Kyle. I had no right to be upset over Tristan being Tristan. But I was.
Drew walked into Tristan's room a minute later. “Sorry, G.” She rubbed my shoulders.
“For what? We shouldn't have barged in. He's entitled to bring whoever he wants home. Can you help me push the bed to the center?” I started pushing the bed Tristan and his blonde beauty had fucked in all night long. I winced when I saw an empty condom wrapper on the floor.
“Here,” Tristan’s eyes flickered down to the ripped foil on the floor before he swiped it up and shoved it in his pocket. His eyes lifted to mine and a look of shame crossed his face. “Let me help,” he whispered before stepping next to me to push the bed across the room. I held my breath―if I smelled his delicious, ocean scent I would lose it. Tears sat on the edge of my eyelids and a painful lump the size of a softball was lodged in my throat. His scent had started to feel like home to me and I couldn’t smell it now, not when it was mingled with the scent of some expensive perfume his bed companion had worn last night.
“Thanks.” My eyes met his. They held a look of sadness and remorse. My heart tightened in my chest. “We’ve got it from here,” I whispered before opening the paint can.
“Gavin and I will be in the office. Call if you need anything,” he said mildly. I glanced up as he pulled a faded shirt over his shoulders then left the room barefoot with his laptop under his arm. I heaved another sigh before passing the roller through the paint and attacking the walls with a vengeance.
Nineteen
Georgia
“HEY,” TRISTAN SAID to me on the deck later that week.
“Hey,” I whispered as I curled up on the chair next to him. I knew he'd be out here, coffee was made and the French doors thrown wide open― a sure sign that he was on the deck. I’d been avoiding him the last few days but I knew I couldn't keep it up for the rest of the summer, and despite the awkwardness of the other morning, I couldn't hold it against him. I had no reason to.
“Look, Georgia, I’m really sorry you had to see that the other morning―”
“It's all right. No harm done.”
“Well, I wish it wouldn’t have happened. I was going back to my boat because I knew you were painting in the morning but I forgot my keys. I feel like a dick.”
“You have every right to expect privacy. We shouldn't have barged in.”
“I don't mean that, Georgia.” He laid his warm hand on mine. It caused shivers to jolt through my body and I pulled my hand away immediately.
“Well, whatever you mean, it's not a big deal. No need for things to be weird between us.”
“Okay,” Tristan said.
“What are your plans for today?” I diverted the conversation.
“I have to make a few calls this morning, test security on a few websites then I was going to do some things on the boat.”
“Nice day for it.” I indicated the bright blue sky above us.
“You can come if you want,” he trailed off.
“No, I have a lot to do around here. I’m behind schedule. I’ll be lucky if I can even rent it out next season at this point.” I sipped my coffee and looked down the shoreline. The wooden walkway for the cottage next door was barely peeking out of the dune grass. Now that I knew it was there, I could spot it if I looked closely enough, and unfortunately, I was intimately aware of its existence after the night in the sand. I watched the grass lick the weathered wood and remembered Tristan's tongue trailing the planes and hollows of my body. My nerves tingled and my tummy clenched at the memory.
I felt a featherlight touch and saw Tristan's finger drifting across the weathered wood of my chair.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I averted my eyes but when I looked into his I knew he knew where my mind had been. Not a million miles away but a few short weeks ago when we’d been together. I sighed, knowing the remainder of this summer would be hard and I didn't think I had the strength to withstand it. I wanted to crawl back in my bed and spend the day reading, but doing that may send me headlong into a depression. And reading reminded me of reading on the beach with Tristan. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of Tristan. Everything I did, everything I thought. I was drowning in the memories we’d made this summer.
“Are you sure, Georgia?” His eyes searched mine. He’d always been so sweet and attentive with me. Always so concerned, his beautiful, green eyes searching my face to make sure I was okay.
“Yeah, I’m going to call Kyle.” I heard Tristan suck in a quick breath as I stood and walked into the house. If I let my mind travel down that path I’d want to have Tristan’s arms wrapped around me the remainder of the summer.
“Morning, love,” Silas said as I curled myself around him in his bed.
“Morning,” I whispered into the crook of his neck as a soft tear trailed down my cheek.
“Are you okay?” Silas rubbed up and down my back.
“No,” I squeaked.
“Is it Kyle?”
“No.”
“Tristan?”
“I wish it wasn’t, but I think so,” I said.
“Are you having nightmares again?”
“Some.”
“Did something happen with Tristan?”
“Yeah,” I answered, barely above a whisper. “I slept with him, Silas.” The ache in my chest felt like it was crushing me from the inside out. It’d only been a week since we’d been together but I was craving his touch, his body hovering over mine, his lips on my skin.
“Oh my god, was he good?” he continued without waiting for my response. “Fuck, I knew he was good. I need details. I'll die a happy man if you give me details.”
“Silas,” I whimpered.
“Sorry.” He stroked the hair spilling down my back.
“I can't leave him, Silas. I can’t.” I shook my head as tears fell.
“I know, love,” he said. “Maybe you should tell him?”
“Kyle? No.”
“Not Kyle, love.”
&nb
sp; “Tristan?” I jerked my head up to look him in the eye.
“Maybe you should tell him everything.”
“No.” I shook my head emphatically.
“Maybe it would help if he knew―if he understood why you don't think you can leave Kyle.”
“It doesn’t matter, it's over with Tristan. It never even really got started.”
“Do you really think that, Georgia?” Silas’s brown eyes burned into mine.
“Yes…” I whispered, still holding his gaze. “I don't know.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” he asked gently.
“No.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to tell you anyway.”
“You always do.” I rolled my eyes.
“And it's exactly the reason you keep me around.”
“I need to work on that.” I frowned.
“I think the nightmares are back because you’re torn. I think you’re forcing yourself to stay with Kyle because of the past, not because of the future. And you need to stop living in the past, Georgia. It's poisoning you. If you stayed with Kyle you would have a nice life, boring maybe, but perfectly, normally nice. But if you let go of the past―let go of the pain―if you followed your heart, you may find something beautiful.”
“I know, but Kyle―”
“I know. Kyle was always there, but it doesn't mean you owe him your future.”
“I’m happy with Kyle.”
“If you were happy, love, that night with Tristan wouldn't have happened.”
“I can't leave him, Silas.” I buried my head in Silas’ neck.
“I know. Promise me one thing?”
“Hmm?”
“Love yourself this summer. Love yourself enough to follow your heart…”
“Silas…” I whined.
“Just try,” he said as he smoothed his hand down my hair. “Just try for something beautiful.”
* * *
IT’D BEEN AN exhausting week between working and nightmares and Kyle and Silas and Tristan and Tristan's whores. He'd been out every night this week. I’d told him to move on and date, and he was doing just that. The only problem was that I’d told him I wouldn’t be upset, and yet every night he didn’t come home I got more upset.
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