Unexpected (10 page)

7

The heeled boots that I’d been so excited to wear earlier in the evening proved to be a bit treacherous when sleet and two cups of beer were involved. I teetered along on the sidewalk in the dark, next to Tristan. I didn’t speak to him because I was concentrating on staying vertical.

Stupid high heels that don’t want to work on the ice. Stupid me for wearing the stupid high heels that don’t want to work on the ice
, I thought as I hobbled along. I had left my jacket inside, not wanting to deal with Corey. I was sure Jamie would see it and bring it to me later.

When I inevitably toppled, a snow bank broke my fall, swallowing me up in one icy gulp. I had opened my mouth to let out a shriek. The shriek never came because it was blocked by a mouthful of snow.

I started to push myself back out, already feeling humiliated knowing that my back end was sticking out in the air. I felt Tristan’s hands on me. He grabbed onto my waist and plucked me out and settled me onto my feet.

“You all right?” he asked.

I spit out the mouthful of snow. Then I shook some crusted ice off of my shirt and scraped it off of my bare arms. I could feel the chill bumps that were already evident.

“F-fantastic,” I said around a shiver.

“Here,” he said as he yanked his hoodie off, over his head. He started to stuff me inside of it before I could protest. He wrapped his arms—now bare with only his t-shirt on—around me as my teeth started to chatter.

His lips twitched up in a smile.

“Don’t laugh at me,” I muttered.

“I’m not,” he unconvincingly assured me
as he released me from the hug. He kept an arm around me as we finished the dangerous journey to my car. I thought he was trying to keep me upright as well as warm. He tucked me into the passenger side, darted around to the drivers’ side and we were on our way.

He’d turned the heat on low while it warmed up. Even still, it blew out a steady stream of chilled air. He had to be freezing, haven given me his sweatshirt. When I asked him, he just shrugged.

“I’m fine,” he said as he darted a look at me. “How are you?”

“I’m fine too,” I stubbornly replied. My teeth were chattering. But he’d given up his jacket for me so I wasn’t about to complain to him
.

I could feel him giving me sideways glances as we made the short trip home.

“You don’t have to drive me all the way to my house,” I pointed out as we turned off the main road and onto the circle that looped Secluded Pines. “I can drive four houses down.”

“I don’t mind,” he said as my car crept past his house.

“Then you’ll have to walk home. Or you can take my car,” I decided. “You can drop me off and then I’ll get it in the morning.”

“It’s fine. I can walk,” he said as he pulled into my driveway. “You do it all the time,” he said as he parked.

“Thanks, for the ride and for helping me get rid of Corey,” I told him as we got out.

He grinned at me as he walked me to my door. “I didn’t mind at all.”

Somehow, I thought he really meant that.

He handed me my key ring and I flipped through the few that were on there. I’d remembered to leave the outside light on so I easily found it. I stuck it in the lock but then turned back to Tristan.

I felt like I should say something but I wasn’t sure what.

He leaned toward me and for one surprising, blissful, insane moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Then I heard a tiny click and realized he’d just been turning the key, which I’d left sticking out of the doorknob. A single, silly little giggle jumped out, past my lips. I managed to stifle the rest of them.

“What?” he asked. He was eyeing me warily.

I knew it was best to keep my mouth shut but my brain was
n’t being entirely cooperative.

“I thought you were going to kiss me,” I a
dmitted. I wasn’t speaking much louder than a whisper.

He let out a little breath of air. A scoff, really. “Yeah? Well, I don’t typically actively search out rej
ection,” he said with a small smile.

“Who said I’d reject you?” I found myself asking out loud the question that I had been wondering to myself.

A grin, almost cocky, crawled onto his face. I’d never seen that particular look on Tristan before. It was an oddly pleasant change.

“You are
so
cute,” I said. My voice mirrored the surprise I felt.

“Britta…” H
e glanced down, causing me to glance down. For the first time I realized that when he’d leaned in to turn the key, I’d somehow, in my haze, grabbed onto him. His t-shirt was tangled in my bunched fists. Instead of letting go, my gaze drifted back to him. His smile was softer as he leaned in again. I closed my eyes and I felt his lips brush against my ear. “Do you
want
me to kiss you?” he asked. His tone was adorably incredulous.

I nodded. “I think so.”

“Are you sure?” he wondered. His eyes were devouring my expression. “You won’t be mad about it later?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” I could hear the smile in his voice as his lips traced a path from my ear, across my cheek, nearing my lips. Not kissing. Just soft. Teasing. “You’re not going to stop me?” he asked. His lips were tantalizingly close to mine but not close enough.

“Probably not,” I managed. I was hoping I sounded flirty but worried I sounded desperate
. Because by that point, I
was
desperate. Desperate to have him kiss me.

The kiss started out hesitant but it didn’t stay that way for long.

Turns out, I didn’t stop him. Not on the front porch. Not as we tumbled through the door, across the foyer, up the stairs, or down the hallway that led to my room. Not once on that long, stumbling journey did it cross my mind that I wanted to stop him.

*~*~*

I blinked into the invasive ray of sunshine and stretched minutely, instantly realizing I was tangled up. Not in a sheet. In someone’s arms. I turned my head—blinking again—in time to see Tristan do the same.

“You can’t be mad,” he reminded me in a rough, morning voice. He leaned over and dropped a kiss on the side of my head. Then he stretched, pulling me with him since his arms were still twisted around me.

My lips curled up as I curled into him.

“I’m not—,” I was cut off by a firm fist on my door. In that instant I realized it most likely wasn’t the sun that had awakened me. It was probably someone at the front door, or on the stairs.

I scrambled into a sitting posit
ion, yanking the covers with me. It inadvertently but semi-effectively created a tent over Tristan.

“Britta!” Jamie shouted from the other side of the door.

Tristan groaned. It was an entirely different than the type of groan I’d managed to illicit from him last night.

The door flew open before my stunned brain could manufacture a single syllable of protest.

“You
are
here!” Jamie said. The relief flashed across her face. It was as obvious as a neon sign. “I was so worried when you left like that last night! You didn’t answer any of my calls! And the key was in the doorknob! And Willow said Corey had been bothering you and followed you outside—”

She’d taken a step into my room, catching her foot on a pair of jeans. Guy’s jeans. Tristan’s jeans, actually. The relief burst into confusion for a split second before exploding into understanding. “Oh crap! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed
. Her eyes darted across my clothing strewn floor. Then they bounced up to my bed where a second set of legs were pretty obviously under the covers. “
So
sorry!” she said again as she gave me a curious, eyebrow-raised look.

“It’s okay,
” I said as she craned her head. She didn’t try to hide that she was trying to peek over the makeshift tent. “We’ll talk later,” I assured her. She nodded, turned, but stopped. As she turned back around, her eyes were wide and zeroed in on my chest.

Odd.

I glanced down, realizing it was
not
so odd she was looking at my chest that way. I had relaxed my grip on the sheet, letting it drop. It revealed the Aerosmith t-shirt I was wearing.

At some point last night, before falling asleep, I’d gotten up to take my contacts out. Instead of trying to fumble with the absurd number of buttons on my own shirt, or
doing the more logical thing: grabbing pajamas out of my drawer—because that was on the other side of the room—I’d just grabbed Tristan’s t-shirt off the floor and stuffed myself into it.

“
Tristan?!
” she demanded. She flew back into my room.

Tristan sat up in time to catch the can of hairspray that Jamie had snatched up off of my dresser and thrown at us.

“Jamie! Knock it off!” he shouted.

M
y make-up started flying through the air like warzone shrapnel. Tristan pulled the comforter up, using it as a shield. I felt small objects bouncing off and he started to laugh. It wasn’t an amused laugh. It was more of a nervous laugh. But he was laughing quietly all the same.

I smacked him across the chest and he gave me a guilty smile.

“This is not funny!” Jamie growled as she marched over. She pulled the blanket down. Tristan only laughed harder at the horrified look on his sister’s face when was confronted with his shirtless chest. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen him shirtless a hundred times. They lived together after all. But she’d never seen him shirtless next to me before.

“Chill!” he told her as she glared at him.

My gaze bobbed between the two of them; Jamie furious and Tristan trying not to laugh out loud at her.

“Stop it! Both of you!” I demanded. Is that what having a sibling did to you?

“Mom thinks you’re still sleeping!” Jamie seethed. “She’s a little surprised you’re not up yet since you never sleep in. She’s probably going to go into your room to get your lazy ass out of bed any minute. If she hasn’t already.”

“Okay, could you maybe get out of here so I can get dressed?” he asked
. He motioned toward the door.