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“No, please don’t apologize. I was just caught off-guard. It’s not a big deal. Really.”
The last thing I wanted was for him to think that I wasn’t interested.
“It’s late,” I said, setting down the last of the clothes in the basket. “I should probably be getting home.”
“Of course, I’ll walk you out,” he said quickly.
We walked to the front door in silence. I was surprised when he kept walking down the porch stairs all the way to the front door of my house. The air between us was thick with awkwardness, neither of us daring to say anything.
“Goodnight, Arya,” he said when we got to my door and I had opened the lock with my key.
“Goodnight, Tristan.”
I watched him walk away and was filled with regret and longing. I walked in the house and closed the door, leaning against the wood for support. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to kiss him and I just shut down an opportunity. What was I thinking? Why did I pull away?
I lightly banged my head against the door as my brain kept yelling, "Why, Arya? WHY?"
Tristan
I guess my game was really off when it came to reading women. How did I misread the signals from Arya?
She wasn’t like the women in New York who were always chasing something–status, money, pleasure, or any combination of the above. In the short time I had been single, I learned it didn’t take much to get women like that into bed. I knew the game, I was a wealthy, successful businessman-surgeon with a modicum of public respect. But I was always left bored.
With Arya, though, it was different. She didn’t care about most of what I had to offer as far as material things went. She didn’t seem especially excited about my proposal to work part-time for her full pay. She didn’t let me seduce her.
But shewasinterested. I knew that much for sure. There was no misreading the pretty blush across her cheeks when our bodies accidentally brushed. Or the breathlessness in her voice when we were close. And I definitely caught her checking me out when I changed my shirt earlier.
I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to formulate a plan to impress Arya. It was more than just the chase. I really wanted to spend more time with her. These last few days had been amazing. She was funny, smart, and a person who I just felt good being around. But I could sense there was something a lot deeper, too. She was clearly a complex human, and I wanted to spend my time figuring her out.
The moment before she pulled away played like a movie behind my eyes. In my mind, I had gotten the green light and closed the fraction of an inch between us and our lips touched. Slowly she melted into me, my tongue swept between her lips, meeting hers. She groaned quietly into my mouth. I deepened the kiss. Her hands were in my hair. My fists gripped her hips. My fingers found the hem of her shirt, and slowly slipped beneath it, finding smooth, soft skin…
My attention snapped back to the present–and the very hard, very lonely dick desperately seeking attention in my shorts.
I groaned out loud. I didn’t know if I could actually handle a summer fling with Arya. I knew there was a better than decent chance I’d fall in love with her, eventually. Then what?
I’d managed to get her number from Gram. She’d seemed a little unsure sharing it with me, but I could tell she wanted something to happen with us. I hadn’t used it yet, but now I stared at her name in my contacts, desperate to reach out.
Was she in bed yet? She did seem tired when she left.
What did she wear to bed? A sexy, silky nightie? Or an equally sexy, ancient, threadbare t-shirt. Her smooth, tanned legs bared.
Before I thought too much more about it, I pressed send on the text I had typed out.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
It was the longest two minutes of my life until I saw three dots appear and my phone buzzed seconds later.
Goodnight, Tristan. XX
Straight and to the point. That seemed like Arya.
I was putting my phone down on the table next to my bed, when it buzzed again. I grabbed faster than I ever have before. My heart was in my throat and I couldn’t remember the last time I was so excited to receive a text message. Usually, it was the bane of my existence.
My mood deflated when I saw the message was from my mom. It was just her asking to spend the day with Shiloh tomorrow. After quickly letting her know that was fine, I put my phone down.
It was a reminder that support for a relationship with Arya would be thin. My parents were going to give her a hard time, whether it was a fling or something more. They wanted me to be with someone who provided social or financial value. While Arya was amazing, in their eyes, she didn’t provide those things. I was worried about Mason, too, and what he would think. He knew my complicated relationship with my parents. But they also employed him and, he was doing well. I didn’t think a relationship would jeopardize his employment–my parents weren’t that obviously cruel, and Mason had done more than prove himself over the years. But would he even approve? What would their mom think? I was far older than Arya, and would they think it was weird that we knew each other as kids?
Was all of this potential complication and pain worth the risk?
