Crash Into Me

by K. M. Scott

  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 t
hing 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."

  He leaned in and kissed me. "That will sound great on Page Six."

  Page Six. My stomach did a funny somersault. This was the first time he'd ever mentioned anything even remotely related to being with me in public, and the idea was at once thrilling and terrifying. This was everything I'd wanted and now that it was happening, all I could think about were my deficiencies.

  I wasn't a tall, willowy, supermodel type whose clothes hung perfectly off her. I had a tendency to make silly comments when I was nervous. For God's sake, there were times I couldn't even get my hair to lay right and not look all flyaway.

  Tristan got into the driver's seat and started the car, but one look at my expression and he knew something was wrong. "Did I say something? What's going on?"

  "I just remember you saying you never took girlfriends to those events that land you on Page Six, but then you just mentioned it. I'm just wondering if I'm the right type to be on the arm of someone like you."

  He cradled my face in his hands and shook his head. "Don't say that. You're a beautiful, intelligent, charming woman who makes me smile. That's more than I can say for anyone I've ever met at those things. If you don't want to go to them, I'm fine with that. But it would be nice to have someone to talk to at them."