Page 25

Tristan's eyes fluttered open, his gaze dazed. He focused on me and smiled. “I'm assuming you decided to take a chance on me.”

“Yes.” I slid my hands down to rest on his shoulders.

I wanted to give in to my passion and have him right there on the floor, but a part of me hesitated. We hadn't known each other long and most of the time he'd spent avoiding me. What would he think of me if I slept with him so soon?

Tristan's gaze softened, and he shifted me so I wasn't in contact with his erection. “We can go as slowly or as quickly as you wish. Either way, my opinion of you won't change.”

I nodded, still unsure. There were other reasons to refrain from more than a kiss. Such as—we'd just had our first kiss. Shouldn't that be a milestone in itself? I was letting myself get carried away by the situation and who he was.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Tristan lifted me back onto the couch and then stood up. The motion brought my gaze to his waist, where the tip of his cock peeped above his waistband. It was a jolt to see such an intimate part of him with him fully dressed, just after we'd ended our kiss. Like a slap in the face—a dick slap. Ugh! Where did that come from? Sheesh, Destiny, get a grip. And not of his cock. Ugh, there it was again! What was wrong with me?

Clearing his throat, Tristan pulled his shirt down to cover himself, but I could still see the ridge of him through his pants. And I couldn't look away. It was hard enough to control my thoughts. I couldn't control my eyes too.

“So, about the lock of hair?” he asked.

“Oh! Sure. Yeah, it's fine.”

“Great. I'll get us some drinks while I grab the scissors. What would you like? Wine? Soda? Water? Tea?”

“Wine would be great,” my voice came out breathless.

He smiled at me. “I'll be right back.”

“Uh, where's your bathroom?”

“Down the hall to the right.”

“I'll be right back too.” I went to the bathroom, filled the cup set beside the faucet with water, and used the toilet.

I'm big on being clean down there, especially before sex. When I was little, my grandma told me rinsing with water was important, and it's stuck with me. Just in case I decided to go all in, I wanted to be ready. Ugh! Now I'm thinking about my grandma and sex at the same time. Get out, Grandma! I love you, but this isn't the time.

When I returned to the front room, Tristan had two glasses of white wine, a cheese and fruit tray, and a bowl of cashews waiting on the coffee table. A fucking cheese tray. He'd sliced the strawberries.

Eyebrows raised, I sat down beside him. “You just had that in the fridge?”

Tristan grinned and handed me a glass. “I had the makings and put it on a plate, that's all. It's just some cheese, fruit, nuts, and crackers. It's not as if I cooked something.”

“Are you a good cook?” I sipped my wine—slightly fruity and crisp, just how I liked it.

“I think so. You'll have to tell me after dinner.”

“So you did cook something?”

“I had some leftover chicken. I just put it in the oven to warm it up.”

“That's what I'm smelling.” I breathed in deeper. “Mmm, you put some wine over it too.”

“I did. Well done.”

“I may not be a good cook, but I have a good sniffer.”

He picked up a pair of scissors and a Ziploc bag. “Why don't you do it? I don't know where it's best to cut.”

“How much do you need?”

“Just a few strands actually. It doesn't have to be a full lock.”

I cut some hair from underneath, put it in the bag, and handed it to him.