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“I should be allowed to be offline for a couple of weeks without these ridiculous rumors,” I grind out. “It sucks that I can’t throw how wrong they are in their faces.”
“Who cares what they think? They’ll move onto something else in a day or two.”
“You’re right. But who knows, I could’ve eloped by then,” I deadpan.
Kendall chuckles. “You better not. Mom and Dad will kill you both.”
“Trust me, Tristan’s not interested.”
“I find that really hard to believe. If he knew you were an option and were interested in him the same way, there’s no way he’d reject you.”
“There’s something I just learned about Tristan that you don’t know,” I say cautiously, wondering if I should tell her.
“Huh? What? He’s a spy? An undercover agent? Works for the CIA?”
I snort, knowing she can keep a secret. “You’re reading too many romance novels. No, he lost his leg when he was overseas. He’s an amputee.”
“What? Seriously? You can’t even tell.”
“I know, which is why I had no idea.”
“How’d you find out?”
I chew on my bottom lip before spilling the beans. “I accidentally walked in on him as he was drying off. I saw his prosthetic.”
“I’d say you saw a lot more than that…”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, I did…he’s hard everywhere.”
“Jesus, Piper! You looked, you dirty virgin.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, he’s aware of that too.”
“Do I even want to know how that came up?”
I scratch my cheek. “Nope.”
“Well, it sounds like some of those rumors might actually be facts, at least the banging your bodyguard part. But if you want to give me a niece or nephew, I’m down for that too.”
“Good lord. You’re as bad as Mom.” I grunt.
“Yeah, well, now Dad’s gonna be on my ass to populate the Montgomery bloodline,” she exaggerates in a deep, manly tone.
“Ew. Maybe I’ll get an IUD just to spite him.”
Kendall chuckles. “Yeah right. But you already know our parents approve of Tristan, so…”
“To protect me, not pop my cherry.”
“You sure? Because he looks like a man who knows what he’s doing…”
“Kendall! You’re a married woman.”
“Ryan knew what he was getting into. Plus, I’m talking about for you, not me.”
“Well, you were the one who said older men are where it’s at, so if Mom and Dad have a heart attack, I’ll blame you.”
“Deal. Now go experience second base.”
“You bitch!” I laugh. “You act like I haven’t done anything.”
“Well, I don’t know. You never give me any juicy details, yet you always want them from me.”
“Not anymore, now that you’ve got that ring on your finger.”
“Well, I want them from you, just remember that. No matter who it is.”
“Duly noted.”
“Alright, I better go. I have a ton of work to catch up on. Try to have fun while you’re there.”
“Yeah, yeah…” I grumble. “Call you in a couple of days.”
“Bye, love you.”
“Love you too.”
After we hang up, I go inside and find Tristan.
“How’s Kendall?” he asks.
“She’s good.” I let out a deep breath.
“What’s up?”
“There are rumors about me hiding because I’m pregnant,” I tell him, leaving out the part that he’s the one who allegedly knocked me up.
“Oh. Well isn’t it going to be obvious when you go back not pregnant?”
“I wish it were that easy. Bad press isn’t good press in my situation. Not when it comes to YouTube and being targeted by cancel culture.”
“Sorry, I don’t know anything about that. But who cares?”
I give him a flat expression, and he shrugs, knowing damn well what people think of me is part of my career.
Needing to change the subject, I ask, “Can we please go to the beach today? My tan is fading, and I need to see the sun for a little bit. Even just ten minutes.”
“Not yet.”
I blow out a defeated breath with slouched shoulders as I sit at the breakfast bar. I could film another vlog, but I haven’t felt inspired to pick up my camera lately. After Tristan commented about how I’m pretending to be someone I’m not for the sake of views, I haven’t wanted to prove him right.
“I’m going to lose my sanity,” I mutter as I bang my forehead against the counter.
Tristan’s hand catches me before I can slam it down again.
“If you keep that up, you’ll give yourself brain damage.”
“Good. Maybe it’ll numb my boredom.”
“I see we’ve entered the melodramatic phase of isolation. Let’s find something to do.”
I sit up excitedly. “Go to the beach?”
“No.”
I frown. “Then what do you suggest?”
“We could play another game? There are a few more in the closet.”
“Are you saying you want to play Strip Sorry again?” I taunt, surprised he brought it up after yesterday.
He crosses his arms. “No. You don’t play fair.”
I gasp. “That’s not true! You just didn’t like my rules. Today they’ll be different.”
“Alright,” he says hesitantly as if he doesn’t trust me.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I jump off the stool and move to the living room, then grab the Sorry! box that’s on the coffee table. Yesterday, he was noticeably trying to hold his willpower, and today, I’m going to see if it finally snaps.
