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“Oh.” He’s still holding my wrists. “Flip and I almost made ourselves sick on it.”
“I know.” My feelings are on fire.
“I’m missing something important here.”
I sigh and drop down on the couch. My arms are still raised because Tristan is holding them. He lets them go and takes a seat beside me.
I pick up a package of Fuzzy Peaches. “I’d mentioned to Flip earlier in the week that I wanted to have a movie night on my birthday. Looking back on it, he probably wasn’t paying attention. I was an annoying barely-teenager, and you were seventeen and probably already getting blow jobs in the back seat of your car from the bunnies.”
“That’s about right. The part about the blow jobs, I mean.” He makes a face. “Which you probably didn’t need me to confirm. Anyway, you weren’t really annoying. I know I said that a lot, but mostly coming to your place was an escape from having to take care of my brothers. Hanging around with Flip was a reprieve, because at your house, all the responsibilities didn’t fall on my shoulders.”
I shake my head. “I drove Flip nuts. He hated it when I had to tag along.”
“But it wasn’t your fault you were a kid with parents who worked long hours, just like it wasn’t my brothers’ fault our mom bailed.”
“You had to take on a lot of responsibility, didn’t you?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want them to think they weren’t important.”
I wonder if that’s how he felt when his mom left. Unimportant. Maybe even unloved. He had no mom to hug him, give him affection. His only female role model abandoned him. I open the package of Fuzzy Peaches and offer some to Tristan.
He shakes his head. “They’re for you.”
“I’m not going to eat all of this on my own.” I pop a pink one in my mouth.
“I can’t stand those; they make my mouth peel so they’re all yours.” He stretches his arm across the back of the couch, fingers sliding under my hair. “Tell me more about the candy birthday.”
“I asked my parents for money for my birthday that year, instead of a gift. I bought candy and all the ingredients to make cupcakes and buttercream icing.” With real butter. Not lard or margarine, which were cheaper. “I was so excited. Essie was coming over, and Flip said he’d watch a movie with me. I said you could come, too.”
The smile slides off his face. “We didn’t stay for the movie.”
“It was stupid anyway. No seventeen-year-old wants to hang out and watch action movies with his younger sister.” I’d gone to change. Essie was coming over after her dance lessons to sleep over.
“Fuck, Bea. I was such a dick to you that night.” He rubs his bottom lip.
I can’t believe he remembers this at all. “I was being a pest.”
He shakes his head. “You were being a normal girl who wanted to celebrate her birthday.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck. Fuck.” His expression makes my heart clench. “I thought your parents had done all this stuff for your birthday, decorated and made it all fun and special, and I was so pissed off that my mom couldn’t even be bothered to send me a fucking card, let alone remember to call. I was so mean to you. I’m sorry.”
When I’d come back out in my pajamas—my cute ones, for obvious reasons—Flip and Tristan had polished off half the candy and were on their way out the door. I’d asked if they were staying to watch a movie, and Flip had looked at me like I had two heads. Tristan said they were going out, and no one wanted their little sister tagging along. It felt like my heart had been stomped on.
“I was a kid with a dumb crush.”
“Wait. What?” His jaw drops. “You had a crush on me? When you were a teenager?”
“No. I don’t know why I said that.” My face is on fire. I can’t look at him. That was a stupid thing to admit.
His hands wrap around my waist, and he moves me to straddle his legs. He takes my face in his palms. “Look at me, Bea.”
I side-eye him.
“I was really fucking mean when you started high school.”
“I was annoying.”
“You weren’t. You were sweet, and kind, and thoughtful. You’re still all of those things and more. But I was a fucking nightmare of a human being. I was angry, and hockey gave me a place to channel that energy. I spent a lot of time in the penalty box. If I’d known you had a crush on me back then...” His jaw clenches. This is the most open Tristan has been with me, and I see that angry boy inside him. His wounds are still raw.
He wraps his hand around my throat, thumb stroking along the edge of my jaw and down the side of my neck. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and the way I sometimes treat you now. I just…” He looks to the side. “You deserve so much better.” His gaze shifts back to mine. “I used to hurt you, sometimes on purpose. Maybe I wanted what you had. And now I just want…you.” His other hand sneaks under my shirt, skimming my ribs. “You were so fucking sweet, and now I’ve corrupted you.”
