AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“First of all, I’m notyour girl. I don’tbelongto anyone. No onelets medo anything. Second, Tristan isn’t a criminal.”
“No?” he says with contempt. “So what do you call a person convicted of a crime?”
I shake my head, done with this conversation. Grabbing a can of cola, I shut the door to the fridge and stalk back to the couch.
“So, that’s it? We’re not even going to talk about it?” he spits, chasing after me.
“What’s there to talk about?”
I shove a tortilla chip in my mouth and pick up the remote.
He snatches the device out of my hand, and I glare at him.
“How about why you’re being so moody tonight. What’s your problem?”
“Maybe I don’t like being insulted in my own home,” I say.
“Insulted? If anyone is insulted it should be me. You’ve become a totally different person since that fucker moved in.”
Yeah, I’ve become a stronger person. I’ve become moreme.
Wow. Is that true? I don’t know if it is, but having Tristan back in my life has certainly challenged me and reignited an old fire I hadn’t realized I’d lost. He loves the part of me Pierce hates.
Pierce’s jaw ticks, and I brace for war. After several tense seconds, I’m surprised when he sighs instead.
“Look, I don’t want to fight,” he says. “Let’s just watch the movie and eat, okay?”
I force in a deep breath, shocked that he backed down. He doesn’t do it often. Maybe it’s because I don’t stand up for myself enough and give him reason to.
“Yeah. Sorry, for getting so upset,” I mumble.
“It’s okay,” he says, squeezing my knee.
I stare at his pretty hand where it rests on my jeans—manicured nails, expensive watch, smooth skin that hasn’t seen a day of hardship in its life. I used to admire his world. I always thought he and his wealthy family represented what I wanted in life, the future I would one day earn through working my ass off. I’d show my parents what I’m capable of, prove that they didn’t succeed in screwing me up as much as they seemed to want to. I’d prove to the entire damn universe that I could be who and what I wanted to be, including a successful engineer on the arm of a legacy millionaire.
But it doesn’t feel right all of a sudden. None of it. Did I start dating Pierce because I liked him or because I was flattered he’d chosen me over all the socialites throwing themselves at him? Am I still with him because I want to be or because I’m afraid of what my future would look like without him and his role in the plan I’ve constructed over the last two years?
As we finish eating and cuddle up to enjoy the snooze-fest that is “a detailed account of the legislative process,” my stomach feels unsettled by more than refried beans.
If Pierce Harrison is my future, why am I wishing the arm around me belonged to someone from my past?
