I thought that was odd, but I went into my room and started going through my closet. “Tops and bottoms?” I called to him.
“If you can,” he answered from close behind me. “Just make sure it’s not any clothing you’re real attached to. It may not survive the day.”
“What, you going to rip it off me?” I shot him a sassy look, and he laughed how I loved, from deep in his chest.
“It’s quite possible. I certainly wouldn’t rule it out.”
I pulled up a pair of white track shorts and a white modified muscle shirt. “These work?”
“Perfect.”
He didn’t stay long that night, which was disappointing, but I supposed it was good that at least one of us was showing some restraint.
“I’ll be by at eight to pick you up in the morning,” he told me as I walked him to his car.
He kissed me goodbye, pulling back quickly. “I need to go get some stuff done, and I know that if we get into this we’ll never stop.”
I nodded, stepping back. “Goodnight,” I murmured, then went back into the house without looking back. If he could pull away, I told myself, then so could I.
I was ready, dressed in white down to my shoes, my hair tied up in a messy ponytail, knee brace on, when he pulled up the next morning. I didn’t make him come to the door, going out to him before he could walk up to the house.
We met halfway, in my driveway. He looked so different, dressed all in white, in a V-neck T-shirt and athletic shorts. Each piece had a small Cavendish Resort logo embroidered on it.
Even his shoes were white, and he was wearing a white sweatband.
“You’d look so preppy, if I couldn’t still see all of that ink.”
He grinned. “There’s a perfectly good explanation for why I’m dressed like this. You’ll see what it is when we get there.”
Before I could respond, he was bending down, lifting me into a tight hug that took my feet clear off the ground. My arms wrapped around his neck.
I lifted my face and closed my eyes as his lips made their way to mine, wishing he’d shown up earlier, or stayed the night before, or something, anything to give us a few more stolen moments we could have had to feed this hunger enough to keep it at bay.
We were not in any way assuaging this need of ours. With every encounter, we only seemed to be making it more acute.
His lips became insistent, his hands grabbing my ass so he could keep me anchored while he ground hard against me.
It was a few drugging minutes before he tore himself away.
“Christ. Do you want me to f**k you on your lawn, or was I misreading that?”
I giggled as he set me down.
“You’re right. We can always just apologize to your neighbors later.”
I backed up a few steps, warding him off with my hands. “One question. Is the race going to start without you, if you’re late?”
His breath whooshed out of him in a noisy, annoyed breath. “Not likely.”
“Is there any way we have time to run into my house and have a quickie, and still make it on time?”
“Not f**king likely,” he growled, his mood darkening by the second.
“Okay then. Get in the car. We’ve got to go. You are not going to make everyone wait on you.”
He cursed his entire walk to the car, kept it up as he held my door open for me, and even for part of the drive there.
“You should have come early,” I told him.
“Well, thank you for the invitation, but it’s a little f**king late.”
I laughed. I don’t know why, but I’d always gotten a kick out of grumpy Tristan.
I saw when we got there that everyone participating wore white. There was a huge banner at the starting line that read Color 5k for Charity, and I began to get an inkling of what I was in for.
“White, huh?” I shot him a look.
He grinned. “It’s fun. You’re going to love it. Trust me.”
Those were the strangest words.
Trust me, coming from him of all people. My head and my heart went to war when he said those words, even in a lighthearted way.
Because I wanted to trust him. A part of me needed to. I wanted to trust him with the best of me, the worst of me, and everything in between.
So much of me instinctively reached for that trust. Sometimes it felt like my very soul had cast its lot with him, and even in the years apart, it had clung to him, leaving the rest of me to wither.
But I had trusted him. Trusted my whole heart with him, and he’d crushed it into little tiny pieces, seemingly uncaring of the carnage he’d left in his wake.
But he’d changed.
It was hard to deny that the things about him that had destroyed me once had been transformed, or disappeared, or been left behind.
And so, the battle inside of me raged on, and that charming devil of a man just went about his life, smiling while he slowly broke down all of my defenses against him.
Defenses I’d worked hard for.
Defenses I’d earned.
It wasn’t fair, just as it wasn’t fair when he gave me a mischievous grin that made me melt, and I quickly lost my train of thought.
That was what I was dealing with.
I was outclassed and outgunned, and I was only realizing it when it was too late to do a damn thing about it.
A heart could only break so many times before the cause was lost.