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After a few more pebbles, Arya appeared at the window, rubbing sleepy eyes. Her hair fell forward, mussed from sleep. She looked warm and soft, bathed in the light from the moon and nearby street lamps.
“Tristan, it’s two a.m., what are you doing out here?” she hissed.
I wanted nothing more than to watch her sleep peacefully in my arms like she did that night.
“I can’t sleep. Can I come up?”
“Are you crazy? My mom is here. And Mason. He’d kick your ass if he found you here.”
“Eh, I’m not too worried about Mason. I can take him. C’mon, live a little. I just want to talk.”
Arya looked down for a moment, and I wished on every star shining over the Kentucky sky that night that she’d let me come up.
“Ok,” she finally whispered. “But if he catches you, I’m telling him it was your idea. I’m not going down for this.”
She disappeared into her room, and I tested the trellis on the side of the house. It seemed sturdy enough, so I slowly climbed and prayed I didn’t do something embarrassing like fall and break my back. I kept in pretty good shape with workouts in the gym, but truth be told, I wasn’t a natural born athlete.
Against all odds, I made it to her window.
“You made it,” she whispered, chuckling softly. My ego took a little beating from her obvious surprise.
But the view was worth it.
Arya stood in front of me in a long, threadbare pale pink T-shirt that grazed the tops of her thighs. The hem of a pair of darker pink boxer briefs peeked out from the bottom. I felt myself get hard from the sight of her, especially seeing the messy, unmade bed behind her that clearly held the imprint of Arya sleeping.
“C’mon, have more faith in me than that,” I said, straightening my gray shorts. I quickly checked the front of my white T-shirt for leaves or dirt that would make me look like an idiot.
“You do look like someone who spends a lot of time in a gym, so I guess you could figure it out,” she said, sitting on her bed.
I took a moment to look around her room. It was full, but tidy. Aside from the queen sized bed, there was a single nightstand that had a neat stack of books, a small desk in the corner, a chest of drawers, and a bookcase filled neatly with more books. Photos of Arya with friends and family–some I recognized, some I didn’t–were framed on surfaces and pinned to a corkboard on the wall. Trinkets were arranged on her chest of drawers, and there was one particularly girly, fuzzy picture frame with a photo of her and Katie. It looked like it was in Louisville when they were in their early twenties.
“Your room is girlier than I thought it would be,” I teased her, picking up the frame. That wasn’t really true. Her room clearly had relics from high school and earlier, but it also showed the woman she was becoming. The last time I had seen her room, I remembered more boy band posters. Those were now replaced with decorative artwork.
“I’m a girl. What’s your point?” she said, snatching the frame and putting it back on the dresser.
I chuckled softly.
“I’m just teasing. I like a woman who’s feminine. It’s sexy,” I said as I moved toward the tall bookcase and scanned the titles. The girl liked her romance and thrillers. A scary combination if you asked me.
“You wanted to talk..?” she prompted me.
I honestly had nothing to say. I just wanted to see her and spend time with her.
“We keep leaving things on a bad note,” I said honestly. “Like earlier. I couldn’t stand it and I just wanted to clear the air.”
“Did we? I thought we were cool.”
Ugh. Another brush off. I really wanted her to try harder than that. I gently sat next to her at the end of her bed and put her hand in mine, palm facing up, while I traced the lines with my other hand.
“I’m sorry if you felt weird the other day. I really hated everything that happened when we were out with Zara,” I said. “Can you forgive me?”
Arya looked surprised. Her full lips parted slightly, and I would have sold my soul to bend down and kiss them. When her tongue darted between her lips to lick them, I was a goner.
“I need more than just that,” she whispered. I took that as an invitation and pulled her closer to me. I leaned in so close, so our lips were just a fraction of an inch apart. I could feel her warm breath and wanted to sink deep inside that inviting mouth of hers. She closed her eyes, anticipating a kiss.
But I drew away.
“Tell me what you want,” I whispered urgently. I was desperate to hear more from her. My fingers gently brushed the tops of her thighs just below the hem of her shorts as I waited for her to say something.
