Page 47 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

He scooted his stool over to hers, and she hugged him fiercely. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you don’t, I’m awesome.”

She laughed through her tears.

Then he pulled back. “But in the end, the Bad Bloods couldn’t give me the help I needed. I had to go to Silverlake and work with Brock and Rachelle. And now we have to face the fact that I can’t give you the help you really need. We’re just lucky Emon came along when he did.”

“Yeah.” She only hoped they could help each other.

“Listen,” Tristan said. “I’m still keeping away from the rest of the team until all this finishes healing.” He gestured at his neck. “So, if you really want to do penance, you can bring your laptop to my secret hideout tonight and entertain me with the latest movies you promised you’d bring here and have selfishly not yet downloaded onto my computer.”

“Definitely,” she said. “Should I try to scare up some snacks?”

“Good luck with that.” Tristan grimaced. “You can try the research team common room, but I’m warning you now that they wasted way too much luggage space on unimportant things like computers and chemistry equipment, and not nearly enough on junk food. It’s pathetic.”

Chapter 23

Trish arrived at Tristan’s temporary room on the third floor half an hour later, armed with her laptop, a six-pack with four warm beers, and the lamest snacks in the history of movies.

Tristan was right, the luggage space had clearly been misallocated on this mission.

She knocked and then went right in, stopping short when she saw who was curled up on one end of the big upholstered couch near the fireplace.

Mayah.

Oh-ho. Was it possible this wasn’t just a buddy movie night? Was Trish a wing man? Wing person?

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Where’s Tristan?”

“In the shower,” Mayah said. “He’ll be right out. Did you bring the movies?”

“Right here.” Trish patted the laptop and set it on the coffee table.

Mayah’s eyes sparkled. “That is so amazing. All those stories in there, and all the other things it can do. It’s like magic.”

Trish laughed, surprised. “I guess it is.”

At that moment Tristan came out of the bathroom, bare-chested with black pants riding low, his wet hair trailing down his back. “Hey,” he said. “I invited Mayah to come.”

“I see that,” she replied. “If you’d told me you were having your weekly bath, I would have brought you clean clothes.”

Tristan gave her the finger, and Mayah laughed. “Come here. I can help.” She held out her hand, and Tristan took it. In a moment he was dressed in clean jeans and a green thermal shirt with the sleeves pushed up.

“Cool,” he said, looking down at himself. “Thanks.”

“I had to guess on the underwear,” Mayah said, a wicked spark in her eye. “I hope you like boxer briefs.”

“You don’t think I’m tough enough for commando?” Tristan arched his eyebrow at her.

“I just think you should keep the jewels nice and safe,” Mayah said innocently. “You might need them one day soon.”

Whoa. Maybe he didn’t need a wing person.

Tristan seemed stunned into speechlessness, so Trish, like a good wing person, jumped bravely into the silence.

She opened the laptop and fired it up. “So what are you guys into?” she said brightly. Yikes, no. Bad choice of words. “Movie-wise?”

Tristan seized on the lifeline. “What have we got? Chick flicks? Danger and explosions?”