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Why did I have to do it in person?
The NDA. I always cover my bases when I have to deliver any kind of sensitive information about my family—including the secret wedding. Jacob Decker became a solo act and with his new fan base, it’s in his best interest to remain single and detached. At least that’s what Pria, his wife and PR rep, said.
“Jacob got married this past weekend. He’s going to be out of town on his honeymoon. You and I will be spending more time together.” I wiggle my eyebrows as I slide into the chair in front of him.
His growl is priceless.
“I’m hurt.” I touch my chest, then lean closer as I lower my voice. “Your mouth says you don’t like me”—I give him my best cocky wink—“but your body screams that you want me.”
He tries to laugh off my comment even though we both know it wasn’t intended as a joke. “I’m not gay like you, Matthew.”
My eyebrows lift, unamused because he’s assuming, like everyone. If I’m seen with a woman, I’m straight. Yet, if I’m with a man, I’m automatically deemed gay. I like and enjoy being with both—but despise labels.
“My taste is… different. We’re different, Matthew,” he says, his emotionless eyes narrowing on mine. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I rise from my seat, placing my business card on top of his desk. “Email me your travel schedule. When you’re working in Seattle, you can stay at my place. There’s no point in wasting money on hotels when I have plenty of room. I’ll give you a set of keys and the code since I travel as much as you do.”
And with that perplexed look now covering his face, I turn to make my exit.
“Decker?” he calls after me as I’m about to open the door. My shoulders hunch as I wait for him to insult me. “Are we okay?”
I spin around, leaning against the heavy door and watching this contradictory man who, I’m guessing, has no fucking idea what he wants and is afraid of who he might be. I set my gaze on his and wait a few breaths as I search for an answer.
An answer for what…
What does he need, and can I give it to him?
I don’t know. He shuts me down every time I try to start something with him.
I shrug. “You tell me, Cooperson.” I cross my arms. “I hate labels. And no, I’m not gay. I sleep with whoever I’m attracted to.”
I press my lips together, halting any more words from escaping, as I feel they’re coming out all wrong. But in part that’s the truth. “I like women, men… I don’t like to label who I am. I find you strikingly hot.”
Tristan’s eyes narrow, his hands become two fists, and his jaw twitches.
This guy has issues. I should just walk away.
“In my mind, there’s nothing wrong with telling you that I want you because your body responds to me. If you’re straight, you might want to rethink a few things because your reactions toward men say something else.” I shrug and immediately regret saying the last sentence because, holy shit, I hit a nerve.
Tristan stares at me, the strength of his glare unsettling.
Awkward.
I can’t help but ask, “So, you only sleep with women? Is that it?”
He gives me a blank stare, and his hands are no longer fists.
“Have you ever been with a man?”
He remains stoic, though, he begins to fidget with his pen.
I smirk. “I’ll take that as a yes. Is it me then?”
He blows out a noisy breath. “You’re a public figure, Matt. You’re comfortable with your sexuality—whatever that might be. Good for you. I prefer to keep my business to myself.”
Tristan’s gaze drops, and he stares at the desk.
I flinch at his last words.
