She swallowed, her hands flat against his chest, her back straining against the shelf that held all the canned goods, but all she could think about was kissing him again.
He chuckled, deep and coarse, but with a hint of something she didn’t understand. The action caused the dimple on his left side to sink into his cheek—and somehow make him look more handsome. His hands rested on the top of her arms, moving up and down in a way that made her lose her breath.
“You’re crazy,” he finally said. “All this time I thought you were this cute, nerdy girl who spent too much time reading.”
She licked her lips. “You thought I was cute?”
“Yes.” He laughed again. “Look, as much as I like being close to you, sooner or later someone’s going to come in here and find us in the pantry.”
Her eyes bulged and she turned to peek through the crack in the door. He was right. If Renee found her in the pantry with Tristan, there would be no explaining it. Nothing left to do but tell her the honest-to-God truth right there in the kitchen. She pushed him out the double doors, intending to follow right after him, but Mrs. Montgomery walked into the kitchen at that moment.
“Oh, there you are,” she said, stopping in her tracks. “Have you seen Samantha?”
Tristan laced his hands behind his head and shrugged. “Nope.” But it was not convincing. Not one tiny bit.
Mrs. Montgomery’s brows furrowed, and she looked over his shoulder. She turned back and tilted her head to the side as though she knew something was up. “Your father’s packing up the van and wanted to know if your suitcase was ready to be loaded.”
Tristan stepped forward and placed his arm around his mother’s shoulder. “Not yet, but I’ll do that right now.”
She looked up at him and smiled a knowing smile. “Son, why do you look so guilty?”
He laughed, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling before escorting her from the kitchen. “That’s just my face, Mom.”
“Uh, huh.” She laughed, but a moment later they were both gone, walking arm in arm into the living room.
Samantha pulled in a much-needed breath and slouched against the pantry shelves. She needed to get out of there before she was caught, but it was another few minutes before she felt comfortable enough to make the first step. She quickly checked her reflection in the kitchen window, hoping she didn’t look too flustered, and walked out to the dining room as quickly as she could.
Tristan was standing by the couch folding his clothes, but stopped as soon as he saw her. She reluctantly walked toward him, aware someone could walk into the room at any moment. “Don’t tell, okay?” she whispered without stopping. It was a juvenile request, but it was the best she had, given her time constraints.
He grinned slightly, making her heart squeeze with uncertainty. Because she was at his mercy, he held all the cards, and she was simply the joker in his pocket.
“It’s our little secret,” he replied, picking up the last folded shirt and placing it on top of his clothes in the suitcase before zipping it shut. He grabbed hold of the handle and threw it up to his shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, but before she reached the top of the stairs, she turned around and looked back to the living room. He still had his suitcase lifted to the top of his shoulder, his hair shining from the sunlight that came in through the opened door, and she thought he might be the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.
Present day
“What are you writing?” Tristan asked, his voice breaking through the silence of the Mustang.
Samantha’s heart lurched in her chest and she slapped the laptop closed. She turned to face him, panic in her face as she tried to comprehend his words. “What was that?” She put her feet on the floor, wishing the top was still down so she could stand and clear her head, but she was trapped. Trapped with the only other man she’d ever kissed besides Steven.
He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember any of it. The thought should have comforted her, but it did nothing. It did nothing at all.
He lifted his chin to her laptop, likely curious by her odd behavior. “What are you writing?” he asked again. “You’ve been staring at your laptop for over an hour.”
She cleared her throat. “Have I?” But her voice pitched a little higher than usual and she took a drink of water. “I was just…thinking.”
“About?”
She bit her bottom lip and glanced out the window. “About Renee.” It was a lie, but it sounded reasonable enough.
He immediately nodded, but took his sunglasses from his face and threw them to the dashboard. “Tell me about it.” But there was a tone in his voice that caught her attention—he was worried about something—what? She wasn’t sure.
Samantha’s shoulders relaxed a little and she leaned forward to put her laptop away. “She moved to New York only last November, and now she’s getting married. It’s all happening so fast…” Her words trailed off, because she’d already said more than she intended. She hadn’t talked to anyone about Renee since she heard the news. Even Steven, because he was never interested in anything to do with her best friend’s life. But why she felt compelled to talk to Tristan baffled her.
“I guess they’re in love,” he said, causing her heart to lurch before she turned around again.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Have you met him?”
“Yeah.” He looked over his shoulder, changing lanes, then met her eyes for the first time the whole trip. “A couple of months ago. He’s a good guy, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He didn’t say more, and she didn’t press it. She turned toward the window and adjusted her seat belt. Nervous flutters beat against the inside of her stomach, but she took a deep breath, and tried to ignore them.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you in love?”
She squared her shoulders, surprised as hell by the question. She hated relationship talk. Hated people butting into her love life… But she lifted her head and looked him dead in the eye, almost asking him to challenge her. “Yes. Actually, I am.”
He squinted slightly and reached up to pull down the sun visor. “And where is your knight in shining armor?”
There it was. The judgment that was unmistakable. She turned to the window, hating the way it made her feel. Because it made her feel insecure. Made her feel slightly angry with Steven for the first time since he’d told her about his internship. She pulled in a deep breath and tried to sound confident. “Work,” she confessed, her stomach dropping a few inches.
“Well that’s unfortunate,” Tristan stated, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he was pissed off.
She turned back around, slightly confused. “How so?” she questioned, disturbed by the fact she’d been so consumed with the conversation she hadn’t realized they’d pulled off the freeway.