Tristan squeezes me tighter, and kisses the top of my head. It feels very comforting; and I know in that very moment I’m so, so grateful to have him here with me.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers as he holds me tight.
“Rob,” I choke. “He was crying...I…I’ve never h-heard him cry.”
“Any idea what it might be?” Tristan asks; his voice full of concern.
“He w-won’t t-tell me,” I growl.
“Want me to see if I can find out anything?” He softly says.
“L-like w-what?” I choke, looking up at him through my watery eyes.
“It’s easy to find information, just have to know what to look for,” he softly says, wiping a tear away with his thumb.
“He’ll tell m-me when h-he’s ready,” I stutter and squeeze my eyes shut.
It takes a while for me to calm down, the sound of Rob bursting into painful tears keeps replaying in my head. I’m so frustrated, how can I help him if he won’t talk to me? And now I’m starting to think Rob’s got into some sort of trouble. All the worst case scenarios my over-active imagination can come up with play over and over in my mind – Oh God, oh no, Rob!
“Hey, hey…Coral, you need to calm down now. You sound like your hyperventilating,” Tristan says lifting my head up which is now in full scale – somebody’s got a gong next to it and is banging it repeatedly – mode. “Come on Coral, deep breaths.” Tristan hands me the box of tissues from my side table.
I shake my head and shuffle out of his hold.“Help me to the bathroom?”
Tristan is instantly on his feet holding his hands out to me. I place my hands in his and he pulls me to my feet, but the room sways again. So he lifts me into his arms, takes the few short steps needed, and places me down in the centre of my tiny bathroom. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of us in there.Tristan shuffles backwards until he’s outside the door. I glance across at him and see he looks so worried. “I’ll wait right here,” he tells me.
“No,” I say waving him away. “Go eat before it gets cold.”
“But’ – “No buts Tristan, I won’t be a minute.” I sniff. Ouch, that really fucking hurt!
I wince in pain and shut the door, then grab a load of tissue and clean myself up - Ok, so crying seems to have cleared my nose. Grosse! – At least I can breathe now!
I wash my tear stained face in the sink, then gently pat myself dry – Jeez, I feel exhausted and I haven’t even done anything! I hear Rob cry again in my head, I push back the tears that threaten to start up – God Damn you Rob!
I take several deep breaths, and decide it can't be any of the really bad things I thought because Carlos would be worried and on the phone to me, so maybe it is those two?
I shake my head at myself, I could be here all day trying to figure it all out. There’s nothing you can do about it Coral, come on, Tristan’s waiting for you!
Yes, he is. I shuffle over to the door and yank it open. I’m instantly hit with the smell of freshly made pancakes and coffee. My stomach growls in appreciation.
Tristan walks over to me and holds out his arms.“May I?” he asks.
“I’m ok,” I croak and start to shuffle out. I feel like a god damn old woman!Tristan gives me his one hand to help balance me, and I gladly take it. “Thanks. Smells good,” I say with appreciation.
“Tastes good too.” He says helping me to sit on the sofa; then he sits next to me.
I see my pillow and quilt has disappeared and my coffee table is back to its usual place in front of the sofa. Tristan has laid out two plates, and there are knives and forks neatly placed on napkins, two tall take-out cups, and four Styrofoam white boxes, each has a small amount of steam oozing out of them.
“Cappuccino for the lady,” he says handing one to me.
“Thanks.” I say in appreciation.
“Now, I got several different types of pancakes as I wasn’t sure which you would prefer,” he says gesturing to the four different boxes.“So there’ –“Pancakes?” I interrupt, purposely looking down-hearted.
“Um...yeah,” Tristan shuffles slightly, looking very uncomfortable.
“But I don’t like pancakes,” I squeak, trying my very best not to let the grin that’s pushing through appear on my face.
“I...Oh!” Tristan deflates, he looks lost. I can't take it anymore, I bump his shoulder playfully.
“Kidding!” I chuckle then stop – I shouldn’t have bumped him, my head bangs in protest.
“Is your head really that bad?” He asks measuring my expression.
“I think yours would be too, if you’d have had that happen.” I answer dryly.
“True.” He smiles. “You had me there by the way,” he adds grinning widely.
I smile back at him. “I know it was good right? You really believed me!” I chuckle then stop – The pounding really better stop soon! Tristan is looking concerned again so I quickly change the subject. “Good choice. I haven’t had pancakes in years!” I say cheerfully.
Tristan carefully opens each box, then turns and smiles broadly at me. “Ta da,” he says playfully. “Found this place just by chance yesterday morning, I got here really early and I was starving, they are very good pancakes,” he adds, looking very pleased with himself. “So, you have a choice of Chocolate Chip, Buttermilk, Cinnamon or Blueberry?”
“Wow!” I gaze down at the pancakes, they really do look delicious.
“So which will it be Coral?” I decide to go for the safe option.
“I’ll take a buttermilk one, thanks.” Tristan places one on each of our plates then takes the top off a little Styrofoam cup.
“Maple syrup?” he asks, his head cocked to the side and a wicked glint in his eyes – Is he asking what I think he’s asking? I’m sure there’s a double meaning there. I stop those thoughts in their tracks, and clear my constricted throat.
“Sure.” I watch him carefully drizzle a little syrup over each pancake, then I pick up my knife and fork and take a bite. “Mmm....delicious,” I say, my stomach seems grateful too.
“They’re good right?” he says demolishing his in seconds.
“Whoa! You must be hungry?” I say without thinking. I watch him take a Blueberry one and drizzle syrup on it.
“What makes you say that?” he says between mouthfuls.
I shake my head and carry on eating, too embarrassed to say.
“Ah come on Coral, I think we’re passed all the evasiveness by now, don’t you?” He leans into me with pancake stuck to his fork, and playfully shoves it into his mouth. Ok I can do this!
“Well I...sort of noticed on Tuesday that you, kind of, took your time with your food.” I answer quietly.
“I was nervous.” He admits.
“You were?” I gasp.
“Yes.” Another mouthful, he quickly chews then swallows. “I so badly wanted you to say yes to a date, to something. It was putting me off my food.” Another mouthful, he quickly chews and swallows. “And I’m never off my food,” he adds thoughtfully.
“Oh!” Is all I can say to that.
“What about you Coral?” He asks, placing a chocolate pancake on each of our plates, then drizzling them both with syrup.
“I...” I take a bite. “Wow, really nice too. Good job I don’t eat this kind of stuff too often, or I’ll turn into a big fat bloater.” Tristan chuckles.
“So what about you?” He repeats, taking a drink of his cappuccino.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“You didn’t each much of your salad at lunch,” he tells me. “Off your food too?” he asks. How very perceptive of him and for some reason, maybe all my inner-dialogue, I answer truthfully.
“Yeah...I guess I was,” I say shyly. “I was nervous too…a-about how I was already feeling about you. I didn’t understand it.” Ok too much information.
I take another mouthful before I can really put my foot in it.
“Do you understand it a little more now?” he asks. I instantly detect
a hint of nervousness.
“Yes.” I whisper nervously, and eat some more.
“And?” He helps himself to another pancake, keeping his eyes locked forward.
“I don’t know Tristan...what do you want me to say?” I try to think of something to tell him about myself. I come up with one thing and before I can stop myself from saying it, it’s out of my mouth. “I have a therapist.” Whoa! Shut up Coral, don’t tell him that yet!
Tristan stops chewing and turns to gaze at me, I cannot look away from him. What is this power he yields over me? I feel like he’s looking straight through me again. As he continues to stare, I notice his eyes grow darker, and his jaw tense a couple of times, finally he looks away, picks up his cup and takes a long drink.
I start breathing again, but my appetite has vanished - I knew it, I knew he wouldn’t like it. Tristan stops drinking and frowns down at his plate, his whole body seems to have tensed up.
“Is the therapist helping you Coral?” He asks darkly.
“Yes.” I whisper, feeling mortified I just shared that with him. “George is great…really, really great.” Tristan turns to me and half smiles, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“If you ever feel like you want to try someone else, just ask me Coral, I’ll pay for the best, whatever helps you.” He says almost tripping over his own words.
“I...don’t...err...thanks Tristan, but George is who I want.” I say surprised at his openness. “You’re not freaking out.” I add.
“Freaking out? Why would I be...?” I see the penny drop. “You think because of that I wouldn’t want to see you?” He asks a little high pitched.
“I...well, yeah.” I admit shrugging my shoulders.
“That’s crazy!” He says shaking his head.
“Well I am seeing a shrink.” I answer dryly, hoping he’ll see the funny side.His head whips round, his face serious, then he sees my wide grin and automatically smiles back at me. I start laughing nervously, Tristan chuckles a couple of times then starts eating again.
Feeling thankful that he hasn’t asked me anything about it, my appetite comes back, so I finish off the chocolate pancake, and help myself to a Blueberry one.
“So can I ask you about that?” He asks, his voice cautious – Damn it!
“Sure.” I swallow hard.
“How long have you been seeing him?” He asks his expression serious.
“Two years.” I answer.
“How many times a week?” I catch him glance across at me, then quickly look away.
“Ok, Tristan,” I stop eating. “Right now, my head is screaming at me that you’re asking these questions because you’re assessing if I’m right for the job. Is that the case?” I ask sternly.
“No,” he scolds. “This is personal Coral. I’ve told you, your job is safe. This is just you and me, man and woman getting to know one another,” he adds running his hand through his hair. I think he’s frustrated.
“Oh, ok.” I placate and take a bite of pancake, it’s really nice, but my appetites gone again. I put my cutlery down, pick up my cappuccino and curl my legs up onto the sofa.
“That’s it?” He says. I frown back at him. “That’s all you’re going to eat?” he adds.I nod once and take a drink.His mouth sets into a hard line. “Two pancakes? That’s not very much considering you haven’t eaten for a couple of days.”
I shrug. “I’m full.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” He mutters to himself.
“I’m sorry Tristan, I won’t ask about my job again. If you say I keep it, then I guess I’m just going to have to take your word for it. It’s just so hard to explain what it’s like being me, being inside my head. I always think the worst.” I sigh and take a drink.“What was your question?” I ask.
He glances across at me again. “How many times a week do you see your therapist?”
“Well, normally once…on a Tuesday.” I add smirking at him, he quickly works it out.
“Ah…so the other day…?” he says.
“Yes, I was due to see George.”Tristan nods and finishes his pancake.“Why did you come to Lily’s party?” I add.
A smile flits across his face. “I was desperate to see you again.” That throws me, I wasn’t expecting him to say that. I light up inside like a star on a Christmas tree.
“So Joyce invited you?” I whisper.
“No, I called her to say I closed the deal for the house and that I’d be down on Saturday – I invited her out for lunch.” He adds.
“But you knew Joyce was going to the party?” I clarify.
“Of course I did.” A slow, sexy smile starts to play across his lips.
“So you said that to get Joyce to invite you?”
“Yes, so I could see you again.”
“Hmm…” I’m not really sure how I feel about that, using Joyce that way.
“I’m sorry. I guess that sounds really bad doesn’t it?” He says echoing my thoughts.
I scowl at him. “Um...yeah, it kind of sucks actually, using Joyce like that.”
“It won’t sound so bad when you hear the rest though,” he admits.
“The rest?” I question, picking at the cardboard around my cup.
“Yes, I thought it went so smoothly when I called Joyce and she said she couldn’t make lunch as she had the party, but then she invited me, it had worked perfectly. I was very happy, because it meant I was going to see you again. Joyce asked me to meet her at her house, so I did. Only when I arrived, she marched me inside, sat me down and told me she knew what I was playing at and then she started grilling me about you.”
“About me?” I squeak. Tristan turns and sits face to face with me, tucking one foot under his butt. “Yep, that’s why we were later than everyone else.” He drains the last of his drink.
“Well, what did Joyce say?” I question.
“Basically she said that she feels just as responsible for you as Gladys does, and that you haven’t had it easy, and if I hurt you she’ll break my legs, or some bones or something.” Tristan smiles as though he’s remembering something really funny.
My mouth pops open in shock. I can’t believe Joyce said that.
Tristan leans forward and takes hold of my hand; instinctively I know he’s not finished.
“She said that if John were alive, he would have been the one saying that to me, but now he’s gone, she feels it’s her responsibility. Then she basically asks me why I’m interested in you. I tell her the truth, which is what I told you, she’s shocked of course, but then I see her start to come around, she knows I’m not just some guy that’s well, only interested in one thing. It’s way, way more than that. We talked for a long time, and by the end of it, I think she’s ok with it you know, if you do decide to see me, she’s happy. Said you’d been on your own way too long…” Tristan stops and frowns deeply. “And I know just how that feels,” he mumbles almost to himself.
“It sucks.” I mutter.
Tristan smiles his sad smile. “Yeah it does,” he says.
We sit gazing at one another again. I try to look away but his eyes seem to have some sort of persuasive power over me. Tristan breaks away first, I flick my eyes down to my coffee cup, I can’t believe Joyce did that. I take a sip of coffee then stifle a yawn.
“Sorry.” I mumble.
“You look tired.”I scowl at him. I’m not ready to sleep, I have some questions.“Come on,” Tristan gestures for me to move towards him. “You should sleep,” he tells me.
I shake my head at him. “I’m not done,” I tell him.
He cocks his head to the side. “Oh?”
“So what did I do and say?” I ask.
“When?” Tristan smirks. He knows what I’m talking about.
“Don’t be obtuse Tristan,” I threaten, his grin widens. “Tristan!” I scold.
“Ok!” He chuckles. “At about 1am this morning, you sat bolt upright and started typing, and you were talking, but I couldn’t make out what you were saying. Then about an hour l
ater you…” He drifts off, shaking his head.
“I what?” I whisper with wide eyes.
“You whispered my name.” He says staring down at his hands.
“I did?” I squeak, scowling at myself in frustration.
“Yes.” His frown mirrors mine.
“There’s more?” I question.
Tristan nods solemnly. Oh crap!
“Give it to me,” I say closing my eyes.
“You whispered...” The tone of his voice makes me look at him, he has his eyes closed.
“Tell me.” I plead.
He swallows hard. “You said that you missed me, that you wanted me to stay and...” he breaks off again and opens his eyes. When they reach my shocked gaze, he clenches his jaw once then looks away.
“And?” I push.
“That’s it,” he croaks – I don't believe him, but I decide to leave it at that, because I'm not sure if I want to know anymore and I have other questions.
“So you got the house?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Happy?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Waiting for you to move in,” he says, grinning widely at me. My heart hammers against my chest, making me catch my breath.
“So have you picked up the keys?” I ask. Breathe Coral.
“Yep.”
“Wow!”
Tristan laughs at my expression. “You really liked that house, didn’t you?”
“Tristan, look around you. I live in this, which is great, but it’s not a million pound house.”
“I think this is nice.” He tells me, his eyes all warm and soulful again.
“Oh let me guess, because I’m here, right?”
“Yeah...” He croaks in that sexy voice of his.
“Cheesy.” I laugh throwing a cushion at him, his reflexes are fast.
“Hey!” He throws up his arm to protect his face. The cushion bounces off it and falls onto the floor, we both chuckle.
“So you need stuff to put in it right, the house?” I question shyly.
“That I do.” He says.
“I was going to call you about that.” I say looking anywhere but at him.
“You were?” He answers in amazement. I look back at him and silently nod. Then hold my head wincing. “We need to make our way over to the hospital at some point today.” He tells me firmly.
Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him Page 30