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Authors: Angela McPherson

Distraction (44 page)

BOOK: Distraction
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Slowly, I moved down the hall to my bedroom. The shower was
still on, but I couldn't wait. I knocked on the door and walked in.

"Spud, I
'
ve gotta piss. Try not to look. Okay?"

"Tristan! Oh, my God."

"Sorry, I couldn't wait."

"Fine, just hurry up already."

As I walked past the shower, I cursed under my breath. Should
'
ve gone with the
clear plastic shower curtain instead of dark brown.

"Are you finished yet?"

"Almost. Unless you need help washing up?"

Damn, I was getting hard. The mere thought of helping rinse
the floral scented shampoo out of her hair, or the way her skin would feel as
my hands cleansed every inch of her body was so damn hot.

"
Um, no.
Just hurry up and do your business."

"
Stop blushing, Spud.
" I unzipped my jeans, one-handed.

"I
'
m not blushing," she said, though her voice pitched ever
so slightly. When I finished, I flushed the toilet without thinking.

"Ahhh, Tristan!"

"Sorry. Habit." I barely contained my laugh.

"Just get out already."

I left Elle–not willingly–to finish up and headed to the kitchen.
I flipped the light on and opened the fridge. Elle had a plate ready so I nuked
the spaghetti and grabbed another pill to finish off the pain in my head. My
shoulder hadn
'
t hurt, b
ut since the pain in my head was under control, I could feel
the ache deep within the bone.

As soon as the microwave dinged, I grabbed my plate and
headed to the bar. Unfortunately, with my good arm out of commission, I'd have
to use my left hand, which would be interesting.

That first bite tasted damn near like heaven, or maybe it was
from near starvation. Didn
'
t matter though, I heaped another fork full into my greedy
mouth.

"Guess you got hungry?"
Elle walk
ed in while
towel drying her thick brown hair.

I paused mid-bite and stared. She didn
'
t have a bra on
and the peaks of her nipples through her shirt were...Fuck. Was she torturing
me for flushing the toilet? I looked down at my half-eaten plate.

"Yep," I said, shoving in another mouthful.

I refused to watch Elle as she opened the fridge and poured
herself something to drink, before standing on the other side of the bar from
me. Problem being, her chest was now at eye level. Fuck. Me.

How long did the doc say I had to refrain from sexual
activity? I shook my head. Elle and I weren
'
t in a
relationship. For all I knew, she and Green were still a thing. Though given
she
'
d agreed to stay and help during my recovery told me they
wouldn
'
t be together much longer. I could wait. Hell, I
'
d waited my
entire childhood, high school, and most of college to be with this woman.

"I
'
m glad you liked my cooking,"
Elle said
. I still didn
'
t look up, and
continued to shove food in my mouth. Elle laughed.  "Next time, I
'
ll be sure to
make extra."

When the spaghetti was gone, I grabbed my plate, intending to
carry it over to the sink, but ended up dropping it and my fork.

"Tristan!" Elle ran around next to me and bent
down.

Don
'
t look. Don
'
t look.
I failed. I
looked up just as Elle leaned over me, her shirt loose enough to see down. I
think I just whizzed in my damn pants. The no sex thing fucking sucked ass
right now.

"Tristan,"
Elle said,
her tone
reserved.

I averted my wandering eyes to meet her suspicious green
ones. "Yeah," I said, though the sound came out strained.

"
Never mind
." She took my plate. "Oh, Eric and I broke up when
you were in the hospital," she added softly.

What? Did she just… yes, she did. A wild elation filled me
and it took everything I had not to fistpump the air. Finally! Then reality
wacked me across the back of the head–she hadn't sounded ecstatic. She'd
actually liked him. I adjusted the front of my jeans and stood. "Are you
okay?"

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I mean, I guess. I really did
like Eric, and I never wanted to hurt him." She paused, and looked over at
me. I could see the worry in her eyes. “I’m not ready…for an ‘us.’" Not
ready, I could work with.

“I can live with that…for now."

She frowned.

“Tristan, I’m scared. I…I don’t want to mess up our
friendship." Yeah, that pissed me off. I’d never hurt her. Why couldn’t
she see that? I also didn’t want to push her away.

“Let’s just take this one day at a time. Deal?"

She nodded, and turned back to the sink. Needing to lift the
tension, I changed the subject.

"Um, you can have my room. I
'
ll sleep on the
couch."

Elle frowned as she washed spaghetti residue off the plate.

"I
'
ll take the couch." She turned the water off and faced
me, crossing her arms over her chest. Had to admit, I was disappointed.

"Spud, I
'
m not letting you sleep on my couch. You
'
re here to help;
the least I could do is give up my bed." I didn
'
t want any other
woman sleeping in there anyway, and the thought of Elle wrapped in my covers
(possibly naked) seemed like a good image to fall asleep to.

"That
'
s the point, Tristan." Elle raised her brow. "I
'
m here to help,
so you get your bed."

"Nope, not gonna happen." We stared each other
down, but I wasn
'
t giving up. She might as well submit to my stipulation.

"You
'
re a stubborn ass, you know that?"

I grinned. "Yes, but that
'
s why you love
me." I winked then turned around, heading to my makeshift bed.

"
Stubborn ass
."
I heard her say
again as I grabbed my blanket from the floor.

"Did you pick up any clothes while you were out?" I
sat down. The throb in my shoulder had increased, and I rubbed the area hoping
to dull the discomfort.

"No, but I
'
ll head over tomorrow after I leave work. I
'
m going to pick
up some more food, too."
Elle roun
ded the corner. "Is your shoulder bothering you?"

The sympathy in Elle
'
s voice was endearing. I could
'
ve played up the
injured patient, but I didn
'
t want her using my pain against me. Besides, she just said
she hadn’t picked up any clothes.

"
Just aches. Don
'
t worry about me. So, since you didn’t grab any clothes, does
that mean you’re going commando? I mean, I guess I could live with that."
I grinned back at her.

Her jaw dropped, and her cheeks were flaming red. “Um. Um,
let me give you another pain pill," she said, turning back to the kitchen.

"Already did before I ate. I
t doesn
'
t hurt too bad.
It
's
just sore.
"
It wasn
'
t a complete lie.

"Oh, um, okay." Elle stood in the doorway,
perplexed.

"Hey, you wanna watch some TV?" I didn't want to
end our night just yet.

"Sure. Maybe there
'
s some old zombie movies playing."
She smiled.

"Hey, get the lights first." I moved to the other
end of the couch so Elle could lie down on my good side. She headed for my
recliner when the lights were out.

"Come over here."

She hesitated.

"I
'
m not sure,
I don'
t want to hurt you."

"Can
'
t hurt steel, remember?" Elle rolled her eyes, though
crawled in next to me on the couch.

"I
'
m not hurting you, am I?" Elle looked up at me with
worr
y in her bright
green eyes.

"I
'
ve never been better." I pulled her back, tucking her
under my left arm.

Holding Elle made waiting to be with her worthwhile…well, at
least for now. Tonight would be the start of our forever.

 

 

Elle

 

Staying with Tristan had it
s advantages
, like helping
him dress. I tried to keep from touching him, but touch had been inevitable. I
think he enjoyed it too much, and I still couldn't believe how understanding
he'd been. All together the experience had been extremely frustrating yet
exciting. However, his limited one bathroom sucked. I assembled a fair bathroom
schedule, but he never stuck with my plan. It seemed anytime I needed to
shower, he
'
d find an excuse to go in. Such a perv.

Mom called a few times, and was surprised to learn I was
staying with Tristan through his recovery. Her tone suggested she wasn
'
t in favor of the
situation, though she didn
'
t dwell on the issue.

When Thanksgiving rolled around, Alyssa left town and as
planned, I stayed to help Tristan. I even cooked an entire turkey without
burning the bird. I was pretty proud, and Tristan
'
s compliments
were endless.

The next week I
'
d driven Tristan to his checkup and was satisfied with his
good report. Though Tristan wouldn
'
t be released to play, he
'
d taken the news
better than expected.

By the third week, Tristan complained of shoulder tenderness,
and his doctor had us wait another week to repeat the CT scan. The test
revealed a nearly healed clavicle. Dr. Castillo assured us his shoulder would
be back to new in just a few more weeks. Tristan had been getting around really
well after that. Even though he didn
'
t officially need me anymore, we
continued our living arrangements.

Alyssa didn
'
t like the distance between us. I missed her too and we did
hang out, though not for long periods of time. She and Bret were still together
and hot heavy from the detailed texts and late night phone calls I
'
d received.

Not only had I not hung out with Alyssa, my sorority sisters
noticed my absence as well. When word got out I
'
d been staying
with Tristan, my phone blew up with texts and missed calls from overzealous
fellow Kappa sisters. Tristan found the texts and calls hilarious. I didn't
find their enthusiasm as entertaining.

Days rolled into weeks and Tristan and I fell into a comfy
routine consisting of studying for semester exams, cooking–done mostly by
me–and simply hanging out cuddling on his couch while watching movies. Our
arrangement was simple, but I
'
d grown more and more addicted to being around him. While I
sorted out my screwed up head, he waited for me. Being Tristan, this involved a
lot of flirting, but he didn't push…too much.

I wrote a multitude of emails to my sister, but she never
replied. Absent calls or emails were typical, though the continued silence got
to me. In a recent email, I tried to make her understand I'd never judge her,
but still, nothing in return. I hoped she was alive and well.

December snuck up on me and in a few short days, Tristan and
I would drive back home to spend Christmas with our families. I didn
'
t plan to stay
longer than a day and Tristan agreed. I hoped Heather would be home by then,
but I had a feeling she wouldn
'
t be making an appearance this year.

"Spud, what
'
s wrong?" Tristan moved from the kitchen to sit at the
bar.

"Nothing really," I said and he frowned. "I
'
m just worried
about Heather. She
'
s never been gone for this long, and I
'
m beginning to
wonder if she
'
s really okay."

BOOK: Distraction
4.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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