A deep crease formed on his forehead. His lips parted, and I waited for his snarky comeback. Only it never came. Instead, he shook his head and turned his attention to where it belonged.
On the road.
For whatever reason, a sting of disappointment slithered down my spine. A lot like the feeling I’d had when he first arrived at my apartment and saw me but didn’t say a thing.
This couldn’t be right.
There was no freaking way I wanted any of Tristan’s attention.
Was there?
“I think we did a good job tonight.” The low timbre of his voice yanked me from my crazy thoughts.
“Hmm?” Apparently, it’d stolen my ability to form proper words too.
He didn’t notice. Thank goodness for small miracles.
“Mr. Livingston came to me before we left,” he said. “His wife is so crazy about you; they want to have dinner with just the two of us.” His grin was breathtaking. “See, I told you we could do this. I mean, you’re so likeable, and I’m so damn amazing, failure wasn’t in the cards.”
A smile touched my lips. “Careful there, the size of your head is getting a bit too big for this car.”
Helaughed. A low, happy rumble that might as well have been a wrecking ball aimed at my chest. Goodness, I really shouldn’t have liked the sound of it so much.
Or enjoyed the feeling it woke inside me.
Desperately needing a distraction, I changed the subject and asked him something that’d been bugging me for a while.
“Why do you want to make partner so badly anyway?”
His chuckle vanished, and that dark stare was back on me. “What?”
I licked my lips and didn’t miss the way his gaze tracked the movement. “Most people do it for the money. Higher positions mean a bigger paycheck. But I know you don’t need it.”
He came from old money. Really, really old money.
He didn’t even have to work. Rumor had it, his trust fund was so large, he could’ve easily bought his own island and lived there for the rest of his life without lifting a finger.
His gaze went to the road again. Those long fingers curled tighter and tighter around the wheel until his knuckles turned white.
I’d struck a nerve.
Shifting my attention to the outside world, I mumbled, “I’m sorry I asked.”
I got a grunt in response.
Yup, definitely hit a nerve.
But instead of deterring me, I only became more curious about the man I’d spent so many years with. There were layers to him. Layers I wanted to peel back one by one until I got to the center of who he truly was.
With that thought, I realized I’d finally lost my damned mind. There’d be no peeling of anything where Tristan was concerned. It didn’t matter what his motivations were or how weak my traitorous knees got when his dark gaze and crooked smile were aimed at me.
It didn’t matter because the one thing—the most important thing—I knew was how incompatible we were.
He didn’t want long term. He was down for a quick fuck and nothing more. Where I, even after everything with Bryce, still wanted the white picket fence life. I wanted to know that when I slept with someone, it meant as much emotionally as it did physically.
That was exactly why it didn’t matter how fast my heart beat or how hard that tug in my belly was when Tristan looked at me.
We’d always want different things.
