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“We will win the playoffs,” he murmurs against my mouth.
It would be so easy to just shut up and let him take me again. But I can’t let him distract me. “Then what’s going to happen in April? When I finish up here, I mean. I’m just asking because…because I don’t know what’s going on. You hired me as the nanny, but we’ve been…you know?”
He stills against me, caught off guard by my rambling. Then, a moment later he rolls off me and sits at the edge of the bed. He stays silent long enough that I’m not sure he’s going to respond. Finally, he asks, “What do you want to happen?”
I hate that he answers my question with one of his own, but it’s better than not replying at all.
I should tell him the truth. That my own father told me I won’t have a job to come back to unless I continue to give him money. Tristan’s asked me how Dad’s doing, and I’ve lied to him. Told him everything’s just fine. It’s more comforting than the truth. Besides, he’s got enough on his plate. He doesn’t need my trials and tribulations piled on top of his. “Well, I guess I’m going to try to get into college. See about that scholarship—”
He interrupts me. “I’ll pay for it.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “You can’t do that.”
He sits up straighter. “The hell I can’t. If you don’t get the scholarship, then I’ll pay your tuition. Seriously, Faith. I’ve never seen my kids this happy, and I know that’s because of you. You need to go to college. You’re not the shy, quiet girl I first met. You’ve come out of your shell a bit.”
“And that’s because of you.” I give him a cheesy grin.
Hi
s arms wrap around me again, pushing me back down onto the bed.
“Tristan, what about us?”
My heart stops the moment I say the words, and he stops mid movement, too.
His gaze is locked on mine, searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t yet asked. “I want to keep seeing you,” he says softly. “But—”
Here we go, I think to myself. He’s going to let me down as gently as he can, but it’s going to break my heart just the same.
“—there’s a lot of distance between Boston and Arizona. And I don’t know if you’ll still want to be with an old man like me once you get to college.”
I reach out, hugging him to me tightly. “Trust me, I will. I mean, I do.” I chuckle at my own flustered speech. “Besides, you’ve got a lot of energy for an old man. I think you can keep up.”
He arches an amused brow. “Careful, that sounds like a challenge to me.”
“You’ve made me feel things I never thought I would, Tristan. I can’t imagine not seeing where this goes between us.” The words are out of my mouth before I think them through.
Tristan’s stone-like again. No movement, no sound. Which makes me realize maybe I’ve pushed things too far.
I want him to say something. Anything. To reassure me, even a little bit. Instead, he offers me a faint upturn of his lips and moves away from my embrace.
“The kids will be up soon.”
What just happened? Everything has just plummeted into a downward spiral.
I’m waiting for him to say something else, but he’s gone, slipping out of bed. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I crawl out from under the covers, too, pulling my robe on.
No, I refuse to cry in front of him. Maybe later, when I don’t have an audience. The same way I did when my dad gave me an ultimatum.
Men seem to have a way of lifting me up, then crushing me on the way back down.
I won’t let him get to me, I tell myself. But, I’m too late. He has gotten to me, into the deepest depths of me, and it cuts like a damn knife.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tristan
What the fuck is wrong with me?
