Jared was still talking, his tone cajoling, as he tried to make it sound like he wasn’t asking me out on a date.
“Sure. Yeah, I’d love to, but it will have to be a late dinner,” I interrupted.
“Great. Perfect.” He sounded pleased but surprised. “What time should I pick you up?”
I chewed on my lip as I thought about it. “Nine o’clock should be good, but I’d rather meet up somewhere.”
“That works. Is there a place you’d prefer for dinner?”
“Chipotle.”
“Um…that sounds very informal.”
“It’s not a date, right? Nothing fancy, you said.”
He laughed, and it reminded me so much of Tristan that I wanted to cry.
“Fine, fine. That works. Aren’t you close to the Beltz Mall? How about we meet up at the Chipotle over there?”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
I was just hanging up when I caught sight of the sliding glass door opening, a rough looking Tristan stepping outside.
He was the picture of remorse as he approached me, giving me an endearing smile that made my heart twist. “I slept in. I didn’t mean to. I promised you breakfast. How can I make it up to you?”
I shook my head, waving that off and trying not to feel horrible about going out with his brother. All of my reactions were off when it came to Tristan. I should not have felt so broken up about the fact that he had slept with some random girl last night, and I should not feel guilty about spending time with his brother. But, strictly friends or not, I felt both.
“I am fully capable of making breakfast,” I told him.
“I know, but I still wish I hadn’t slept in. I like doing nice things for you. I like spoiling you. I like doing anything at all for you, as long as it makes you smile.”
I looked down, pretending to study my phone, blinking back ridiculous tears.
“What would you like to do tonight?” he asked, moving as close as he could get to me through the opening in the tree house. “I’m getting my car back today, so we can go anywhere. I’ll let you pick this time, and I’ll drive. We’ll go wherever you like and I’ll treat.”
I swallowed. “I have plans, actually. Maybe another night.” It hadn’t felt nearly as good as I’d thought it would to turn him down.
“Oh?” he inquired, still smiling. “Another girls’ night so soon?”
“No, not that. That’s not for a few days. I’m just going out…with a friend.”
“A friend? Just one? She can come with us, or I could tag along with you.”
“It’s…not like that. It’s just a dinner thing, with a friend. Just the two of us.”
His smile died, his brows drawing together, though his expression was still just curious. “Who’s this friend?”
I shrugged.
“Is this a girl friend or a guy friend?” he asked, just as though he had the right.
I cleared my throat. “It’s a guy, though it’s not a big deal. Like I said, we’re just going out to dinner.”
He nodded, rubbing his jaw and looking at his feet. “It’s not your ex, is it?” he asked quietly, his voice low.
“It’s not,” I rushed to answer, a little defensive because I had considered that idea, albeit briefly.
“Just a friend, huh?” he asked blandly.
“Yep.”
“So why does it have to be just the two of you? That seems more like a date to me.”
I felt my temper rise a bit. “What if it was a date? Would there be something wrong with that?”
He moved into the small opening, bringing his face close. I was sitting cross-legged, and his hand found my knee, squeezing lightly. “I thought you said you weren’t going to date for a while? Didn’t Lucy tell you that you should avoid that for now, and didn’t you agree with her?”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to nag each other? Wasn’t that on our stupid list?”
“There’s a difference between nagging, and expressing concern.”
“Now you sound like Lucy,” I said dryly.
“Who is this guy you’re going out with tonight? Why have I never heard about these plans until today?”
I hated, absolutely despised, that he sounded like a concerned parent just then. “How about we add this to our list? I don’t get to ask you about who you fucked last night, and you don’t get to ask me who I go out with.”
He looked around, eyes wide. “Watch the language. The kids.”
The boys had moved on as soon as we’d started having grown up talk. They were currently wrestling with Pupcake in the sandbox by the fence.
“You should fucking talk,” I pointed out sharply.
“I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”
He had a point. He’d improved his language around the kids faster than anyone could have predicted.
“Fine, I’ll drop it,” he said, his tone dark. “What time is he picking you up?”
“I’m meeting him somewhere at nine.”
“That seems late. And he can’t even be bothered to pick you up? You can do better, boo.”
“You’re an ass,” I told him, taking exception to the bite in his tone. “It was my idea to meet up.”
“Hiding him from me? You worried I’ll scare him off?”
I let out a noise of frustration through my teeth, wanting to throttle him.
“Sorry. I am being an ass. I’m just feeling, I don’t know…overprotective? The thought of you being alone with some strange guy makes me…worry.”
“Well, don’t. Where I’m concerned, all the damage has already been done. There’s nothing left to protect me from.”
He’d begun to back off, but at my words, he moved close again, studying my face, that big warm hand back on my leg. “What on earth does that mean?”
I blinked rapidly. I couldn’t believe I’d said something like that, and to him. Already, there was sympathy in his voice, enough sympathy to have me blinking back tears. I hated sympathy, but was somehow always strongly affected by it. “It’s nothing. Certainly nothing you want to hear about.”
“I certainly do. Please. I want to know just what you meant by that. What damage has already been done?”
All of it, I thought. “Nothing,” I said.
He didn’t buy that for a second. “We’re friends. You can tell me anything.”
I mulled that over. Was that true? I was in a mood to find out. “Promise you won’t feel sorry for me,” I whispered, my eyes on the kids, making sure they were out of trouble, and out of earshot.
“I promise,” he whispered back, his other hand reaching into the tree house opening and pulling at my shoulder to tug me further out. I let him, not even protesting when he had my legs out, his chest pressed against my bent knees. “Tell me.”
I grimaced. “It’s nothing, really. It’s old news, and not even that big of a deal. It’s just…you never have to be protective of me. I can take care of myself, and even if I can’t, I know from experience that I’ll survive it, whatever it is.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said softly, one of his hands moving into my hair.
Gently, he turned my head to look at him. “What the hell does it mean? Did someone hurt you? Are you talking about your ex? Do I need to go and hurt him?”
I shook my head. “He was a mistake, and a royal asshole, but no, that’s not what I meant. Though you can’t protect me from assholes, either. That’s my choice to make. What I mean is that I’m not some innocent kid. I haven’t been innocent in a very long time, so don’t go thinking that you need to protect me, as though I am.”
“Is that really what you think? That only innocents deserve protection?”
The bastard had pulled a Lucy on me. Is that really what I thought? As I considered the question, I realized that I did, at least as it pertained to me.
I was embarrassed by that realization, but it didn’t change my thinking. My issues were too deeply ingrained for that.
I
shrugged, turning my head to look away from him. He didn’t let me, bringing his other hand to tip my chin up.
“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked, something in his tone making me think that he already knew.
“I will,” I allowed, “but not right now. Okay?”
He didn’t look happy about that, but he nodded, his hands dropping away.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I didn’t know who was more out of sorts after that.
I had effectively spread my black mood to Tristan, and we steered clear of each other for hours.
I was slipping my feet into my tennis shoes, getting ready to take the dogs for a walk, when Tristan approached me with a cajoling smile.
That smile was nothing but Trouble.
“I just got a call to do a promoting job tonight. Come with me. It’ll be fun. You can go out with what’s-his-name some other night.”
I glared at him, snapping the dogs into their leashes.
He took Coffeecup and Pupcake’s leashes, unfazed by my hostility. I let him, not speaking until we’d nearly circled the block. “I’m not changing my plans tonight.”
“Well, how late are you planning to stay out? You could come by the club after you’re done.”
“Stop,” I said quietly, my expression hard. “Why are you pushing this?”
“Are you really going to be out that late? What exactly are your plans?”
“Just stop!” I nearly shouted, angry now, at him—at both of us. “You don’t get to go out and do whatever the hell you want, and then ask me about what I’m doing.”
He gripped my arm just above the elbow, stopping me. “Is that what this is? Are you mad at me about last night? Is this revenge?”
“Why would this be revenge? How would it be revenge? We’re just friends right? We’re still sticking to that little list, right?”
He nodded, studying me. He looked worried. “You are mad at me. Fuck, Danika, I’m sorry if I hurt—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted him. “I’m not hurt. I’m just fine, but we need to establish some boundaries here. You can go fuck whoever you want whenever you damn well please, but you don’t get to keep tabs on me, just because I’m a girl. That’s not happening.”
His jaw clenched, and he let go of my arm.
He didn’t say another word about it, but if I’d thought he was in a foul mood earlier, it was nothing compared to the dark mood that conversation put him in.
He went out before I did that night. I was still getting ready when he left. He’d barely said a word to me—barely looked at me, since we’d walked the dogs.
He barely looked at me now, just hovered in the doorway of my bathroom while I put on makeup. “Be careful, boo, and call me if you need me.”
He left before I could respond.
I wore cuffed navy shorts, and a sleeveless, magenta, bib style silk shirt. A pair of flip-flops made it a casual look. I twisted my black hair into a smooth chignon at my nape. Smoky eyes and soft pink lips was the extent of my makeup. I wanted to look nice, but I certainly didn’t want to go overboard and give him the wrong impression.
Jared’s reaction when he saw me was enough to make me flush in pleasure. “You look amazing,” he said, swallowing. “You’re so beautiful.”
The brothers sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.
Jared looked pretty good himself, in just a black T-shirt and jeans. He had the skinny rocker hunk look down pat. Aside from his build, he reminded me so much of Tristan that it made my heart twist just to look at him.
Dinner was friendly enough. I bombarded him with questions about the band I was so curious about. Everything about Tristan fascinated me, and the fact that he was in a band, and I’d met most of its members, but still hadn’t heard them play, consumed an unhealthy amount of my thoughts. Tristan didn’t share much about the band, but his amiable brother was more than happy to.
“Dean is putting together some gigs for us soon.”
“Do you have to call them gigs? Isn’t there a less douchey alternative to calling it a gig?”
He laughed richly, reminding me so much of his brother. “We have some performances coming up. Is that better?”
“Yes. Am I invited?”
“Of course you are!”
“Will you tell me when they’re happening?”
“I will, though I’m sure Tristan will tell you first.”
“Will you be sure to tell me anyway? In case Tristan doesn’t…”
“Okaaay. Are you two fighting or something?”
“No. Why?”
“I just got that feeling. And just so we’re clear…You two still aren’t dating, right?”
“Still not dating,” I said through my teeth, not sure how I felt about the whole thing. Nothing sucked worse than having feelings for someone who just may have been your best friend. Especially when that someone clearly didn’t return those feelings.
“I’m sure you know this, but Tristan warned me—ordered me rather, not to ask you out.”
“I know.”
“Normally I’d respect that, but if you two aren’t dating…or hooking up, I thought that was completely out of line, so I ignored him.”
“I know,” I said with a smile, though something in my gut twisted at the notion. Would Tristan have warned his brother off if he wasn’t at all interested? But then again, I’d always known he was attracted to me. He’d never made a secret of that.
“So I know this isn’t a date,” he continued with that engaging smile that ran in the family, “but maybe sometime, down the road, when you’re dating again, we can go on a date.”
“Maybe,” I allowed, returning his smile.
“So there’s this party tonight, some big house party. Wanna go?”
“I don’t think so. I won’t know anybody.”
“You’ll know me. And you’ll meet some of my friends. Have you met Dean?”
“I haven’t.” I’d almost met the band’s mysterious fifth member a few times, but it had never actually happened.
“Well, it’s your lucky night. He’ll be there. And this cool chick Frankie will be there. She’s a tattoo artist, and she’s getting her own reality show, so she’ll be famous soon. I bet you two will love each other. She’ll hit on you, because you’re gorgeous, but that’s to be expected.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Don’t you think Tristan will be pissed if he finds out we we’re hanging out? I went out of my way not to tell him who I was going out with tonight.”
Jared shrugged, unconcerned. “Who will tell him? He’s working tonight, so he won’t be coming, and I can guarantee Dean won’t say a word. If we run into anyone else, I doubt they’d make the connection between you and him. So he’s still staying with you, huh? I can’t believe his apartment isn’t ready yet…”
That gave me pause. Not that the apartment wasn’t ready, but the fact that I’d never given a thought to how long he’d been at the house, and some part of my brain had even forgotten that he was supposed to be leaving soon. Originally, he’d only been staying for a week, but that week had come and gone in a flash.
“We can just go for a little bit,” he cajoled. “It’s only twenty minutes away. I’ll drive, and I’ll bring you back to your car whenever you ask. It’s a pool party. We can go swimming. I promise it’ll be fun.”
I did have a suit in the car, packed from my last excursion to Decadence.
“Do you mind if we just go for an hour or so?” I asked.
He took that as my capitulation, and his smile widened. “That sounds perfect.”
We wound up somewhere to the west of the strip. And what he called a ‘house party’ was held in a gated estate that I don’t think anyone could have called just a ‘house’.
“I’m not sure exactly where, but someone told me James Cavendish has a place just down the street. Frankie, that tattoo artist you’re going to meet, is actually good friends with him. The reality show she’s starring in will b
e in his casino.”
“Really?” I asked, impressed.
“Yes. And like I said, you’re going to love her. She’s a blast.”
“Are you sure we’re dressed for this?” I asked him as he pulled his black Mustang through a set of intimidating gates.
“Oh yeah. Half of these people will be wearing swimsuits, so we just might be overdressed.”
I’d stuffed my bikini into my purse, but I glanced at his hands as we made our way past closely parked cars to the huge building at the center of the property. “Do you have a suit?”
He grinned. “Already wearing it, under my jeans.”
“You had this all planned out,” I observed.
“I had my hopes.”
The place was packed, and the setup reminded me of a frat party more than anything, which surprised me, considering that it was held at the biggest mansion I’d ever seen.
People were walking around in swimsuits, holding red plastic cups. I was instantly more at ease. My first impression of the place had been intimidating, but I could deal with plastic cups and a pool party, no matter the swanky location. Still, it was hard to even get through a room, there were so many people.
“How will you find anyone in this crush?” I asked Jared, having to lean into him and speak directly into his ear to be heard.
He shrugged. “Let’s get to the pool. We’ll either see them or we won’t.”
It took some searching, but Jared found me an empty room to change. Luckily, my small outfit fit into my purse. I was just debating about where to stash it when Jared opened the door a crack, peeking his head in. “Want to stash your purse in my trunk? We can just go around the house to get to the pool, so we won’t have to swim through the crowd twice.”
“Good idea,” I said, following him.
He snagged my hand as he navigated us back through the crush of people.
Tristan held my hand all the time, but for some reason I felt like I shouldn’t let Jared do it. I didn’t protest, though, telling myself I was being silly.
We stashed my purse in his trunk, making our way toward the back of the house by way of a paved path.
I was surprised when Jared stopped us at the side of the house, pulling me into a darkened alcove. He pulled me close, and I didn’t protest, closing my eyes and tilting my head back.
Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1) Page 14
