Crash Into Me (21 page)

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Authors: K.M. Scott

Tags: #Heart of Stone#1

BOOK: Crash Into Me
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After
I'd washed up, I found him sitting in bed, just staring toward the wall at the
picture I'd painted for him. He seemed to be looking right through it.

I
crawled into bed and lay there wondering what to say. Instead of speaking, I
let my actions say what was in my heart and curled up next to him. Drawing
little circles on the hard ridges of muscle just above his hip, I waited to
hear any words come out of his mouth, but as the minutes ticked by, there was
nothing. Finally, I closed my eyes, content and safe in his strong embrace but
so wishing to know what he was thinking.

 

His
words came out like a whoosh of air from his lungs. "Don't leave me like
everyone else has. I'll do whatever it takes, but don't leave me, even if I screw
this up."

I
knew as soon as the first word left his lips that this had been what was on his
mind. Work had been bad recently, but this was what had been plaguing his
thoughts. That I'd leave him.

Lifting
my head from his chest, I looked up and saw the torment in his face, just as
I'd heard it in his voice. At that moment, all I wanted to do was make him
happy.

"I'm
not leaving you. Is that what that back there was all about? Me leaving?"

"Yes."
His voice was a mixture of fear and shame.

"Why
would I leave someone who adores me?" I asked, hoping to calm his fears.
"I've never even thought of going anywhere. If anyone should be afraid,
it's me. You made me sign a contract, which is up in just a few weeks, and you
seem to have given me enough money to ensure when you break up with me that
I'll be fine."

"I
gave you that money to show you how much more you're worth than the salary I
offered. I'd hoped you'd see that."

"All
I saw was that you were throwing a lot of money at me and never mentioning
anything about what was going to happen when the six months was up."

"So
you think I'm going to leave you then?" he asked wide-eyed.

As
I laid there listening to him, my fears sounded foolish. "I guess that
sounds silly, but I did. Jordan tried to convince me that I was all wrong, but
you've been so distant sometimes recently that I didn't know." I stopped
talking and looked down, sheepishly adding, "And all that money."

Tristan
pushed the hair out of my eyes. "I wasn't throwing anything at you. I have
enough money to last for five lifetimes. What good is it if I can't share it
with someone I love?"

I
heard the loneliness in his words. Without his brother and parents, there was
no one to share his money with, except me. But what about the contract?

"I
notice you're not saying anything about what happens after the contract."

"What
do you want to happen?"

I
knew what I wanted. I wanted him to tell me he loved me without any need of
some paper that said I was obligated to be with him. I wanted him to show me
that his feelings had nothing to do with a contract or money.

"Tell
me, Nina. What do you want?"

"It's
not fair answering a question with a question," I said, sidestepping the
issue.

"You
didn't ask a question, so my question doesn't answer anything."

No
kidding.

My
potential answers receded into the corners of my mind, each one afraid to step
forward and show itself. How was I supposed to tell him that even though he
hadn't really told me what he wanted after our contract ended, I wanted what
every woman in love wanted?

A
husband who loved me. A beautiful life. Maybe kids down the road.

"You
know I hate when you do that."

"Do
what?" he said with a hint of a smile.

"Whatever
this is. I always feel like I'm being talked into a corner."

"All
you have to do is answer the question, Nina. What do you want?"

All
my answers found great hiding places, except for the smart ass ones, which
raced toward my mouth. "You know. What everyone wants. World peace.
Cheaper prices at the pump."

He
cocked an eyebrow at me and grinned. "Funny."

Climbing
up his body, I kissed the tip of his nose. "Well, you put me on the spot.
Maybe if you gave me some time, I could come up with something better."

He
lifted my chin with his fingertips and gave me that sexy look that never failed
to make me melt. "More time it is. I want your answer by five tomorrow
afternoon. You can tell me what you want right after you show me your choices
for Miami. For now, I think you need some rest. You've had a rough day."

Turning
me over onto my back, he kissed me goodnight, told me he loved me, and laid
down to sleep, leaving me with a deadline of less than twenty-four hours to
figure out how to say all the things in my heart.

Piece
of cake. Right.

 

Chapter Twenty

As
the first rays of the sun streamed into our room, I rubbed the sleep out of my
eyes and reached for Tristan. I wasn't surprised he was already gone, as it was
his usual style, but the envelope on his pillow unnerved me a little. I had
hoped to have the day to rummage around my own brain to find a way to tell
Tristan what I really wanted, but his letter meant he too would be joining me
in my head.

If
I didn't know better, I would have sworn he'd left a letter to make sure of
that.

I
turned the envelope over in my palm and then held it up in front of me to see
if I could read what he'd said. Nope. I had to open it, which for some reason
filled me with dread. It was just like that first morning I'd woken up and
nervously spied his note on the chair.

There
was no time like the present.

I
slid the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it. My eyes focused on the
words as I read them aloud.

Dear
Nina,

I
missed having our date last night, so after you show me your choices for Miami and answer my question, we'll go to Tony's for pizza. I'm looking forward to it.                                                                                                                                           Love,

                                                                             Tristan

 

I'm
looking forward to it.
Did he mean my choices, my answer to his question,
or Tony's pizza? Jesus. This man was going to drive me mad. Even his letters
said little and created more questions in my mind.

There
was no point in worrying all day. I knew what I wanted to say. Had to say if I
wanted him to know how I truly felt about him. I just had to muster up the
courage to say the words.

 

By
four o' clock, I was a nervous wreck. The woman who stared back at me from the
mirror in the morning with her bravado had dissolved into a panicky mess.
Needing to talk to Jordan but too impatient to wait for email, I snuck up to
the attic, evading Rogers' careful eye, and called her for a strong shot of
courage.

Every
step I took across the attic floor seemed to make the floor creak like it was
screaming beneath my feet. If only I hadn't hidden the phone all the way in the
corner next to that scary sewing mannequin. I finally reached it and crouched
down behind a stack of boxes, just in case my footsteps had been as loud as I
thought.

The
phone felt heavier in my hand than before, and I quickly dialed Jordan's number, pushing my index finger around in the rotary dialer circle eleven times,
all the time questioning how anyone called for help and got it in time before
push button phones and 911.

"Hello?"

"Jordan," I whispered into the black receiver. "It's me. I need your help."

"Nina,
what's up? Are you okay? How's your head? And can I tell you how great this
suite is? That man of yours knows how to live!"

"Jordan!" I whispered as loudly as I could and still be whispering.

"Okay.
Sorry. What's up?"

"I
need to talk to you about something. Something I need to do with Tristan."

There
was silence on the other end of the phone for a long moment. "Nina, what's
wrong?"

"He
asked me what I wanted after my contract is over. I don't want to make a
mistake like I did by saying I love you too early."

"I
don't understand. What do you want?"

I
said nothing, scared even to say it to her, my best friend. Opening my mouth, I
tried, but nothing came out. Finally, I just said, "I don't know."

"Oh,
honey. You know."

"You're
not helping."

"I
know, but I can't help with this one. Think about what you'd tell me if I asked
you what I should say to Justin if he asked what I wanted with him."

"I'd
like to think I'd be more helpful," I pouted.

"What
are you afraid of, Nina?" she asked, cutting straight to the center of the
issue. "And don't tell me you don't know."

I
let the phone sag onto my shoulder and covered my face with my hands. "I'm
afraid that I'm going to let him know exactly how I feel and how much I want to
be with him forever and he's going to react just like Cal did."

And
there it was. Like a huge cloud of doubt hanging over my head right there in the
attic ready to suffocate me.

"Cal was an asshole, Nina. He was a liar and a player and an immature fuckup. You were too
good for him from the moment you were born. That he broke up with you after you
told him how you felt about him isn't a reflection on you, sweetie. He'd been
lying for months. You were just too sweet to see that."

"But
what if I'm just not seeing the same thing here?"

"Tristan
isn't Cal. I promise you that. I'm not even sure they're both the same species.
Tristan has been nothing but incredible, so until he shows you otherwise, I say
give him a chance."

"What
if he doesn't want as much as I do, Jordan?" I squeaked out.

"Then
he's a fool and not the man I think he is. Give him a chance, sweetie. I think
you'll be pleasantly surprised."

I
wanted to. I really did. But my past and all that hurt felt like it was
pressing down on my chest, threatening to crush me.

"Nina,
do you remember all those days you stayed in your room crying over Cal and swearing you would never let yourself fall for anyone again? I think if you let
this guy go, you're going to be like that forever. I don't want to see you get
all hardened over. You're too good a person to be that."

Tears
rolled down my cheeks at Jordan's words and the thought of losing Tristan
because of my fears from the past. Wiping my face, I sniffled. "I know.
I'm just so afraid it's too good to be true."

"You're
forgetting my mantra. Remember? Good things happen to good people, and you're
the best of the good ones, Nina."

"Okay.
Thanks, Jordan."

"Your
welcome, sweetie. And don't forget whatever happens, you got this."

I
hung up the phone and inhaled a deep breath.
I got this.
Getting up, I
walked as quietly as possible across the attic, but I stopped as I passed the
trunk with the picture of Tristan and his family. It was silly, but something
in me wanted to look at him as a child again. Crouching down, I opened the
trunk while I kept my eye on the stairs, just in case Rogers had heard
something.

I
took out the family portrait and studied the childhood face of the man I loved.
He looked so innocent. I wanted to see more—wanted to see what he was truly
like as a child— so I sifted through the papers and books to a pile of smaller
pictures I hadn't noticed the last time. Together, they catalogued Tristan and
his brother's youth and as the pictures clearly showed, the vast differences
between the two boys.

Identical
in appearance, they were like night and day. All smiles, Tristan seemed to
always be so full of life, while his brother stood sullen in the few pictures
of him. Tristan was obviously the more athletic, appearing in picture after
picture holding trophies, each one bigger than the one before. In the
background of one picture his brother stood watching from behind the bleachers
as Tristan once again received laurels. Taylor wore the expression I'd seen
often in the past weeks on Tristan, a face that told whoever bothered to pay
attention that the one wearing it felt the most acute sense of unhappiness.
Some pictures showed his mother's pride in her winning son, but none included
Tristan's father, except the formal portrait I'd studied earlier. As the boys
aged, fewer showed Taylor at all.

I
searched the bottom of the trunk to find more images of his brother, but there
were none. All I found were papers that appeared to be lists of names and legal
documents. Suddenly, a feeling of guilt came over me. It wasn't right that I
was snooping up in that attic, even if it was for a silly romantic reason.

Carefully
replacing everything as I'd found it, I closed the trunk and quietly made my
way back downstairs, tiptoeing each step to avoid being caught by Rogers.  It
was nearly five o'clock and my time for indecision was over. I grabbed my
laptop and headed for Tristan's office, prepared to show off my work on the Miami suite and praying to God I was ready to answer his question.

I
sat in his leather office chair behind his desk and closed my eyes to calm my
nerves, repeating my newest affirmation.
I got this. I got this.
A few
minutes later, the sound of his footsteps coming down the wood floor hallway
told me my time was up.

"You
look good behind my desk, Nina," he said in a silky voice that slid over
me, enveloping me.

Opening
my eyes, I saw him casually leaning up against the doorframe as he loosened his
tie, the picture of calm. As usual, he looked incredible. The dark charcoal
suit he wore was complimented perfectly by his black dress shirt and red and
black striped silk tie.

"You
don't look too bad yourself, boss," I tried to say just as casually in an
attempt to keep the conversation light.

But
he wasn't having any of it.

He
walked toward me as he unbuttoned his shirt's top button. "It's five
o'clock. I'm looking forward to seeing your choices for Miami and then you
answering my question."

"I'm
pretty hungry. How about we head over to Tony's for pizza and then get to the
work?"

Tristan
rounded the corner of his desk and stood next to me wearing a sly grin.
"I'm happy to leave the work until tomorrow. You know I don't like doing
anything after five."

I
stood to leave, but he caught me around the waist and pulled me to him. He
looked down at me with a look in his dark eyes so intense I shuddered. There
would be no putting him off.

"But
the answer needs to happen before we eat."

"Okay."
I sat back down in his chair and opened up my laptop. "Might as well get Miami out of the way, right?"

I
was stalling for time and he knew it. "As you wish."

Steadying
my shaky hands, I presented my choices for the Miami suite, which Tristan
easily approved and congratulated me on. I doubted he had even paid much
attention to my ideas this time, but there was no point in belaboring the
issue.

He
closed my laptop and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm glad that's
finished."

Unsure
what to say, I stared at the desk and meekly smiled. "Me too."

Tristan
caressed my cheek with his thumb and then cupped my chin, turning my face to
look up at him. "So I believe the question stands, Nina. What do you want
from me after your contract is over?"

My
mouth became as dry as the Sahara desert. I wouldn't have been surprised if
when I tried to speak that sand flew out from between my lips. If ever I needed
a drink, it was at that moment. I tried to moisten my lips, but it was no use.

Clearing
my throat, I croaked out, "I don't want this to end."

"Are
you referring to your job with Stone Worldwide or your relationship with
me?" he asked sharply, stroking the pad of his thumb against my jaw.

"Both."

"I
can assure you that you have a job with Stone Worldwide as long as you'd
like."

"This
job?"

He
dropped his hand to his side and pursed his lips. "Well, at some point I'm
going to run out of suites for you to work with, but I can promise that you'll
have a job that will take advantage of your artistic talents."

I
swallowed hard, knowing that we'd gone as far as we could concerning the job.
Now he was going to want my answer to what I wanted with him.

"But
you haven't answered my question, Nina. What do you want from me?"

I
closed my eyes and took the biggest chance of my life. Inhaling a deep breath,
I said, "I want you. All of you."

There
was complete silence as the last word left my mouth, and I feared opening my
eyes to see his reaction. I couldn't even hear him breathe as he stood next to
me. My heart sank as he continued to stay quiet. What was he thinking? Had I
jumped the gun? Didn't he want me to want him?

"Open
your eyes, Nina," he ordered gently.

I
looked up to see him smiling down at me. My emotions were a jumble, making it
impossible to figure out what to do next. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I
wanted to run. I didn't know what to do.

When
he continued with his silence, I blurted out, "You know, I hate this thing
you do. It makes me uncomfortable. It's rude to stare at someone and not say
anything. I know you're trying..."

He
cut me off in mid-sentence and took me in his arms, kissing me deeply. As his
tongue teased mine, his lips pressed tenderly against my mouth, telling me
everything I needed to know.

Tristan
was happy.

After
the longest kiss I'd ever had, he pulled away and took my face in his hands.
"I just hope I don't disappoint now that you'll get everything I am."

Shaking
my head, I said, "No way you could disappoint me. Thank you for not
freaking out when I said I wanted all of you. A lot of guys might have wanted
to."

He
leaned in to kiss me gently and whispered against my cheek, "I know I've
asked you before, but what kind of men have you been dating?"

As
I wrapped my arms around his neck, I answered with the honest truth. "All
the wrong kinds."

"Well,
I'm happy to be able to help you remedy that."

My
emotions were ready to overflow, so before I began crying tears of complete and
utter happiness, I whispered in his ear, "What do you say to remedying my
hunger with some Tony's pizza?"

He
stood back from me and looked at his watch for a long moment before he nodded.
"I think it's about time."

We
walked toward the car and as he opened the door for me, I said, "I
probably look like a disaster. That lump on the back of my head doesn't hurt
anymore, but it's like I have a stegosaurus ridge back there."

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