Lingus (16 page)

"What?"

He chuckled again. "You snore."

"You're a liar." I snorted.

"I don't lie, you snore like a tiny, baby chainsaw. It's cute," He told me with a straight face.

"Shut up."

He cracked a tired smile. "You should look into voice-over work, if someone ever makes a movie with a little chainsaw you could cover it, hands down."

I snorted again. "I'm going to hock up a phlegm into your Theraflu."

"I could use the protein," the smartass said with a wink.

Chapter 21

"You," Zoey emphasized by pointing at me with her fork. "Spent three days at Tristan's house taking care of him because he had the flu?"

I pointed my fork tines in her direction. "Yes."

It'd been four days since Tristan had come down with the flu. After three days, he finally began to feel better despite still being weak. I had to explain that he'd probably be fatigued for a while since he'd hardly eaten anything besides soup, toast, and crackers at my insistence. He was really sweet and thanked me every couple of hours when I stayed with him. We watched TV and talked in the few hours when he was feeling about a six out of ten on the sick scale.

Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I told him I had plans and wouldn't be coming over. I did have plans; Zoey and I had a set date every Thursday morning for hot yoga class. Then we'd eat lunch afterward — and by lunch I meant we stuffed our faces with the most fattening thing we could find — because that damned yoga class made us almost pass out each time. I'd tried convincing her to just stick to a regular yoga class in the past, but she would start going on long rants about how the heat cleaned out our systems, and a million other benefits you could get out of being in a one hundred and fifteen degree room for over an hour.

"Hmm," she mumbled, spearing her fries with a fork and shoving about five of them into her mouth at once. "You still want to get up close and personal with his joystick?"

"I never said I wanted to," I tried to explain, knowing it was futile. "He's already told me about a million times that he wants to be friends, how he doesn't want a girlfriend because of the porn, how I'm such a good friend, blah blah blah. We're friends. There won't be any test drives going on for this old clunker," I said, pointing at myself.

Zoey scowled, chewing a huge bite of cheeseburger. "That's stupid," she literally spit out. Bits of hamburger bun splattered across the table, and I grimaced. "I mean, I get why he wouldn't want a girlfriend, and it's admirable that he's honest with you but still. Maybe he's trying to convince himself that both of you are friends by saying it so much?"

"Doubt it," I shrugged. He seemed to treat me the way I always imagined an older brother would treat a younger sibling. With my luck, the next thing he'd tell me would be that I was endearing. Ugh. "I don't know, Zo. I like him a lot, but what am I going to do? Seduce him and then get him to fuck me? Then a week later he goes and fucks five other girls? I couldn't do that. Maybe if I didn't like him it'd be possible, but I do like him."

"If he wants to be friends, then you be the best freaking friend he's ever had."

Another Josh. Oh lord.

"What does that even mean?" I asked her before cutting up the last bit of my chicken fried steak.

She rolled her bright gray eyes while chewing. "That means just be you. You're beautiful on the inside and the outside, Kat. Just don't wear those fugly clothes I hate around him."

"Does that mean I can't wear my—"

"Yes! I've been telling you for years to burn those awful jeans. They look like something you stole from your pregnant mom twenty-six years ago."

I faked a gasp in horror; I loved those jeans. The material was super worn-in and more comfortable than cashmere, but they were pretty hideous. I wore them at home mostly.

Sometimes on grocery store runs.

I even wore them to go run other errands every once in a while.

Okay
, I wore them pretty much every chance I got. "I'm not burning them, I'll just... avoid wearing them more than usual."

Zoey frowned at me over the bun of her burger. "Fine. Look, all I'm saying is this: I think you've gotten so comfortable having me, Nicole, and Josh in your life that you've quit allowing other people in because you're fine. Now, Tristan walks into your life, and I'm beyond happy that you're letting him in, but I don't want you to just give up and let him join the ranks with me and the other sluts, Kat. You want him? Get him. The Kat I know is no wuss. He chose to talk to you out of those thousand other people at the convention for some reason, and I'm going to guess it wasn't because you have nice hair, bitch."

Well, when she put it like that it made a whole lot of sense. I'd asked myself plenty of times why Tristan chose me to talk to, follow, and try to befriend out of everyone he came across. Especially when he told me that very few people knew his two identities, I questioned it. I started to feel better about not just myself but about being optimistic in the situation, but the problem was still the same.

"Zo, what am I going to do though even if he does like me? I don't want a boyfriend who does porn, and he practically refuses to talk to me about that."

She looked pensive for a moment and then nodded. "I think it's a good sign he doesn't want to talk to you about boning other chicks," she said with all the eloquence that is Zoey Quinn. "I don't know, Booger. What do you do when you get the porn star?" I knew that out of everyone, Zoey would be the only one to truly understand the situation I was in. She knew the pros and cons of being in the adult film industry but most importantly, she loved me. Zoey would never put me in a situation that would hurt me physically or emotionally. "I'd punch him in the gut if I found out he was with other girls at the same time he was with you. I guess you're,
not
literally
, screwed."

"I am screwed." The harsh reality of it was beyond disappointing. I knew that I was already the tiniest bit attached to Tristan, and if we were to get together, it wouldn't be casual and meaningless. At least for me. While I didn't consider myself a prude, I was not one for one night stands unlike my friends. I guessed I'd just have to weigh what was more important to me— a giant cock or a friendship that seemed as easy as breathing minus the sexual tension on my behalf. Fuck.

I think she recognized the look on my face as a positive because Zoey smiled and winked. "You might not be very tall—"

"Zoey you're practically a midget," I threw back at her.

She chose to ignore me. "Your abs might not be ripped—"

"That's rude." Sure I didn't look like a bodybuilder, but I mean, I was fit. My stomach was flat... unless you counted the two days before my period, and the four days during it.

"You definitely don't have the biggest boobs or ass—"

I had to snort that time because she was getting downright insulting. "Uh—"

"But what you have is perfect, Kat. Your personality is second only to mine. Any guy would be lucky to have you, and you know that. So just be his friend like he wants but show him those perky little Cs," she pointed at my boobs, and then palmed her own tiny, little mosquito-bite boobies, pushing up against the sports bra she had on— more for looks more than support, let me tell you. "Are better than any of those rock-hard, fake titties he's had in his mouth before. You hear me? I don't want you to change for anyone, regardless of how good his skills are orally."

I knew she wasn't telling me to go for anything with Tristan, but I felt like she was supporting me on my journey to be a good friend to him. Maybe he'd fall madly in love with me and then quit porn.
Ha
. Well, whatever. I'd been asked out on dates, I always just said no, because I had no interest in dating since my last boyfriend. I was happy with the way my life is going; between my dad, my friends, work, and my drawer of toys, I couldn't ask for more.

"You're the best, Zo. "

She looked at me with wide eyes, "Of course I am." Snapping her fingers all of a sudden, she continued, "I forgot to say that you don't really have a nice tan, but I mean, tans are kind of overrated. I like your shade of peachy colored skin."

"Zoey?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to punch you in the vag when we walk out of the restaurant."

Chapter 22

I'd just finished showering when my phone chimed from its spot on the counter. My first guess was that it was Josh, because I hadn't heard from him in a couple of days. When I went to reach for my phone, 'Magellan' showed up on the screen instead.

Come over. I'm bored.

I finished drying off before responding.

Then you'll just be bored with me there.

Less than a minute later, my phone chimed again.

I'm never bored with you. Come over. I'll order a pizza and think about letting you choose a movie.

I really didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day, besides vegging out in front of the television and trying to get some writing done.

Meat lovers pizza and I choose the movie. Deal?

Deal

I got dressed, opting for a stretchy pair of shorts and a tank top before feeding my cat, Matlock, and heading out. My lower back was hurting just a little, but I figured it was from overdoing it at yoga. After so much driving to his house, the trip across town didn't seem as long as it did the first three times. The now familiar gray house stood out from its neighbors, and when I pulled over to park in front of it like I'd done each other time, I spied a middle-aged woman standing on the porch next door. She was wearing shorts that were just as short as mine, but her top was cut lower than the one I had on. She stood there and stared while I jogged up to Tristan's front door.

The last three times, I'd let myself in because he was too sick to get up and open it himself, but now, I didn't know what to do. I was standing there, debating whether to knock or unlock it with my key when the door swung open to reveal Tristan in plaid sleep pants and a t-shirt that was a size too large. He still looked a little pale, thinner, and his eyes a bit dull.

"Why are you standing out here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are you standing right by the door?" I replied, not wanting to have to explain why I was out there.

"I thought you were the pizza person," he said, stepping to the side after waving me into the house. "C'mon, I don't want old Mrs. Goldberg taking the open door as an invitation to come over."

I came in and toed off my shoes, earning a big smile from Tristan before following him into the living room. He had taken his comforter back upstairs from the look of it and maybe even cleaned a little. "Is she the cougar next door? She was staring at me when I walked over here."

He groaned before plopping down on one end of the couch. "She's crazy. I'm pretty sure she has cameras outside, because every time I mow the lawn, she always just happens to drive up. Even if it's at three in the afternoon during the week, she's just there. It's creepy."

"Do you mow the lawn with your shirt off?" I asked, sitting down on the other end of the big sofa with my short legs dangling off the edge. Tristan nodded at me in response and I shrugged. "Well there you go, she just wants to check out the goods. Don't be upset with the lady. I have a neighbor that sits on the stairs to check out girls in their running outfits."

He gave me a lazy smirk. "Do you let him look at you?"

"No way, I've told him before that if he checks out my ass when I'm going up, I'll kick him in the face. Once, he did it to Nicole, and she got right up in his face and told him she'd knee his balls back into his stomach. Now, he just ignores me and runs to hide when Nikki comes to visit." I told him with a grin.

He shook his head and positioned himself so that his back rested against the end of the couch. "I think Calum has his work cut out for him with your friend. Don't tell her anything, okay?" he asked, waiting until I nodded in acceptance. "Calum usually calls me at least four times a day, everyday. Since last weekend, I think I've heard from him a total of five times this entire week. He said he's
smitten
with Nikki. Smitten! How the hell does he even know what that means?"

I had to smile because Nicole had been the same way. "I talk to Nikki everyday, and she's only called me about three times, too. Once was the day after Josh’a party, when she could barely talk, and the other two times were just short conversations to tell me she's alive."

The doorbell rang right then, and Tristan hopped off the couch to get the door. I heard him talk to the pizza guy before coming back carrying a familiar cardboard box. "You have no idea how glad I am that you wanted a meat lovers pizza," he said, as he set the pizza box on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen. My eyes followed his plump ass cheeks as he walked around. The faint pain in my lower back was starting to get really distracting, so I got up to look at the various things set up on the bookcase and shelves surrounding the big screen television that was mounted above his fireplace.

There were pictures of a pretty woman with caramel colored hair and a really,
really
attractive, older, auburn-haired man standing together in front of a church. Another picture was of a much younger Tristan and Calum at DisneyWorld, each wearing Mickey Mouse ears. Then, there were several in various ages of a light brown haired little boy with bright green eyes, with the same man and woman in the first picture. I had to guess that these were his parents. "Tristan! Are these pictures of your mom and dad?"