by James, Clare
Now, she’s in my house wearing tiny shorts that show off her long, lean legs; her hair wild, falling out of the tail she put it in to keep it out of her face while she ran; her gorgeous olive skin flushed and begging to be touched. My dick twitches at the sight. Jesus. I have to get ahold of the situation.
Aria, on the other hand, glares at me. No, it’s not a glare really. It’s more an expression of disgust or an irritation she has to deal with, like a coffee stain on her favorite sweater. And damn, it makes me want her. Exactly why it’s critical that she leaves ASAP.
Still, the masochist in me wants to see how long I can endure it. See how long it’d take me to break. What would she do when I did?
I clearly have a problem, and it’s time to remedy it. Time to take control. I’ll just quickly take care of her foot and send her on her way. That’ll be the best thing I can do. No need to dirty my hands.
With the first aid kit in reach, I go to work on her foot.
I’m instantly taken back to high school. Aria was always running on the beach – and other places – barefoot. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to do minor surgery on her little feet. Not that I minded. I always enjoyed being her hero.
But that all changed once she found Alex. The thought of him makes me tighten my grip on her ankle.
“Ow,” she groans.
“Don’t be such a baby,” I snap.
She kicks me with her good foot and I can’t help but laugh. So much time has passed, but it seems like days rather than years. The release is welcome, and eases the tension. Aria smiles too.
As I finish up, I hold her down by the inside of her thigh to prevent a swift kick to the balls. I don’t realize the movement is intimate until I hear Aria’s sharp intake of breath. When I look up, there’s no mistaking it. Her nipples tighten into two hard peaks under her thin tank top. Taut buds that demand attention. I want to be the one to give it to them.
Fuck me.
She likes my hands on her.
And that thrills me to no end. I have the same effect on her – which means I could get back the upper hand. I raise my brow in her direction; she looks away, clearing her throat.
Oh yes, it is time to have some fun with this.
“Something bothering you, Aria?” I ask in mocked innocence.
“No,” she says indignantly, her eyes narrowing. “Just hurry up.”
“I don’t like to hurry. Surely you remember that.” I inch my hand up a little higher. Her skin is so soft. So warm. Shit.
“Why are you helping me, anyway?” She captures me with those dark eyes. Her face might be pinched, but her eyes are tender. “You don’t even like me anymore, Tris.”
“Understatement,” I say, ignoring the way my name on her lips sends an electric jolt straight to my dick.
In an effort to keep control, my hand continues to rise up her leg. Who am I kidding? I do it for the pure pleasure. Marking her on some fucked-up animalistic level.
Yeah, I’m in bad shape.
“Okay,” she says, blowing the hair out of her eyes. “You hate me and I can’t stand you. Is that better?”
“The two have nothing to do with this.” I glance down at my hand – so close to reaching her sweet spot, I can feel the heat rolling in waves from her center. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to plunge my fingers deep inside.
“You disgust me,” Aria says, still not moving away.
She calls my bluff. As much as my hand wants to continue its pursuit of the Promised Land, I stop. If I go any further, I’m not sure I’ll be able to recover. So I finish bandaging her foot, thoroughly enjoying every second of my newly-found control.
“Your body doesn’t agree,” I respond to her insult.
“Asshole,” she huffs, pulling back now.
So I lean in, brushing my chest against her traitorous nipples. Perfect. That’s right, Tristan Green is no longer that scrawny kid creaming his jeans every time Aria Prince is near. I keep the upper hand. In everything. Though I admit, her responses to my touch have the wheels turning inside my head. Yes, I could definitely do something with this.
“All done,” I whisper in her ear.
She inches closer, just so slightly, before pushing herself up.
You’re not fooling anyone, Aria.
“Yes, we are done,” she says, and I think we both can feel the history of those words. The playful banter is over.
In the next moment, the screen door slams shut and I release all the air in my lungs. Trouble is, once she’s gone, all I can think about is getting my hands on her again.
ARIA
Tristan Green is an arrogant asshole.
So he may be in the variety of I-want-to-rip-off-your-clothes-and-lick-you-like-an-ice-cream-cone-asshole. But an asshole nonetheless.
The gall of him to touch me that way. Even more disturbing was the way I let him. Let. Him. I actually wanted his touch – craved it. How sick was that? This guy who I despised, and who found me equally as offensive. Though that definitely wasn’t the feeling he was giving me today.
The sun has set, so I walk in the shadows. Still I swear I can feel his eyes on me. I need to get out of here. Back to safety. Olly olly oxen free, my home calls out. And despite my torn-up foot, I run. No, this was not a game I’d be playing again.
When I arrive, the restaurant is closed, but Cade is still up. I hear the soft voices of him and Mom. And… here we go – my sister.
Serena wasn’t with the welcome wagon this afternoon and I couldn’t help the little prickle in my chest at her absence. Inside, the three of them are huddled on the couch together and I instantly warm. Okay, my eyes fill a little bit. At least it was just me Serena was avoiding, because she seems to be enamored with my son.
“Mommy.” Cade reaches out for me.
“What are you still doing up?” I ask.
“Serena wants to take him tomorrow.” Mom gestures to my sister. The one who’s hardly talked to me since I left almost four years ago. “So, he can sleep in.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Plus,” Mom admits, defeated. “We wanted more time with him.”
“I thought you had the daycare set up, so I could help you at the restaurant.”
“Well, about that –” Mom starts before Serena interrupts.
“I’d like to nanny for Cade this summer,” Serena says.
My sister is only two years younger than me, but I still see the sophomore in high school who wouldn’t talk to me when I left town. Her sweatpants are bunched up at her knees and her mint green-painted toes wiggle up on the couch. She’s make-up free, not that she needs a thing on her perfect skin, her long hair wrapped in a top knot. I feel ancient standing next to her. She’s so fresh-faced, and innocent, but still has that air of defiance. Mom actually had to force her to go to my wedding. She hated Alex with a passion and didn’t agree with any of my decisions once I found out I was pregnant with Cade.
Serena has her arm around him now, and I wonder if she remembers that she tried to talk me into adoption.
“You what?” I ask, totally taken aback by her offer.
“That’s what I’ve been doing, Ari,” she says. My face heats hearing her call me by my nickname. “I’ve nannied for Jack and Philly’s twins for the past two years.”
I’m sad I don’t know this. A prick of jealousy pokes at me. My family has moved on without me. Jack and Philly’s boys were just toddlers when I left. They don’t even know who I am.
“What about the restaurant?” I ask. I know with me gone, Mom has needed the extra hands.
“We make do,” Mom chimes in. “It’s the best thing for Serena, and looks great on her resumé since she’s going into Elementary Ed.”
“You picked a major?” I ask, a little too excited. Just because our relationship was no more than radio silence didn’t mean I stopped keeping tabs on her. Elementary Education. It was perfect.
“I did,” Serena answers, looking like the adorable kid I remembe
r when she turns all cherry-faced. “And I’m actually quite good. Ask Jack. I’m open for one more, if you’ll have me. And you better have me, because I need to spend time with this monkey.” She tickles Cade, but with me, she’s all business. “I have a contract in the kitchen.”
As much as I want to be mad at Serena, and not let her have what she wants, I know this is how it should be. Deep in my heart, this is where Cade and I are meant to be. And I want to kick myself for waiting so long to get us back home.
I nod in agreement. “Okay,” I tell her.
Cade squeals. “I get to play with my cousins all day long.”
Oh boy, the destruction brothers. What were they going to teach my angel?
“Well, in that case,” I tell him, “it’s bedtime. You’re going to need all the energy you’ve got to keep up with those two.”
“Jack doesn’t bring the kids until ten,” Serena says. “I’ll just have him drop them here, so Cade can have more time to adjust.”
“Okay,” I say again, bringing Cade to his bedroom, thinking I might need my own time to adjust.
I tuck in Cade, and all his stuffed animals, and kiss him goodnight. Then I follow suit. It might only be nine p.m., but I’m exhausted.
I’m in my old room, the space I used to share with Serena. It’s all a bit weird. What’s that poem about how you can never go home again? Well, here we are. At least Mom changed it up. There’s now a queen bed, instead of two doubles, with the softest cotton sheets and comfy pale blue duvet. It looks new. Everything is a soothing blue and white and there’s even a desk in the corner for me.
Of course Mom would do it up. I don’t care how long it takes, I will find a way to make it up to her.
Flipping on the bedside lamp, I pick up one of the books she left for me: a psychological thriller titled The Silent Wife. And just by the sound of the story, I think the wife wins.
Well played, Mother. Well played.
No more than five minutes later, Cade is crawling into bed with me. Now I know a grown-up mother would lovingly, but firmly, put him back in his own bed. But Cade and I have spent more time in the same bed than apart. And I rely on him as much as he does on me.
I pull back the covers and we cuddle until his breathing deepens. How I love that part. His little boy breath usually lulls me to sleep, but tonight my body is jittery and my mind keeps replaying my chat with Tris.
Of all people to be back here. I never planned for this. Never even fathomed that I’d have to deal with him again. Though he has crossed my mind more than once since I left. Much more. Part of me is happy he’s doing so well. The last time I saw him, I was sure I ruined him for life.
***
“Don’t do this, Aria,” he said when he found me in one of the small dressing rooms at the church. I had been there early. Praying of all things. I was so worried about the pregnancy, being in church was the only thing that seemed to give me any comfort.
Tristan found me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say Mom tipped him off. I wasn’t answering his calls, so he figured an ambush was the best way to reach me.
“I have to,” I told him, keeping the baby a secret. That was Alex’s idea. I wanted Tris to know, to understand it wasn’t anything he did. I wasn’t choosing Alex over him. I was choosing my baby.
So I was forced to rip his heart right out of his chest. Little did I know, he would hold onto that pain. I could see it today. Some people never get over heartbreak or loss. People like Tristan Green. It alters and changes them forever. A scar left in the wake – raised and ugly and permanent.
“So that’s it?” Tristan asked. His eyes bloodshot, his face flushed.
“I’m sorry, Tris,” I told him. “I didn’t plan it this way. But I have to go.”
“You don’t have to do a goddamn fuckin’ thing. You are choosing to do this. Choosing to leave. Choosing him over me.”
“It’s not like that,” I argued.
“Really?” Tris gave me that gross sarcastic laugh. “Then tell me. What’s it like?”
At that point I knew I had to tell him. I couldn’t keep this from him. He was my best friend, and so much more.
“There’s a reason, Tris,” I began. “I –”
Tristan interrupted me and wouldn’t let me get it out. I can’t say exactly what happened next, the emotions were too high and my head was spinning. One thing was clear, I never got to tell him.
The next moments were a tangle of yelling and grabbing and crying. And then Tris turned on me.
“It’s like my dad said,” he told me. “You are just like her.”
Like his mother. The most selfish person in the world. The person who hurt him so deeply.
“You deserve whatever you get, Aria,” he said, walking away. “Just remember that.”
Yes, I destroyed that boy. And he turned around and did the same back to me.
I hated him for it.
Still do.
TRISTAN
I have turned into a fucking pussy overnight. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, hell, I can’t even shower without jerking off to the thought of Aria Prince, or Anders, or whatever the fuck her name is now.
I can’t get rid of the image of those pert nipples under her shirt, that amazing ass that looked edible in her yoga pants and running shorts, those chocolate brown eyes, that full mouth…
Shit, this has to stop. That goddamn full mouth did nothing but wreck me then and insult me now. Though I know what this is. A simple case of wanting what you can’t have. Being told no. Something that doesn’t sit well with me anymore.
Question is, what to do about it?
I hate her. I want her.
I’ll just find some way to have her.
That’s the bottom line. Get her under me and out of my system as quick as possible and move on with my life. And yet, I’m stuck here in Gulf Bay for the foreseeable future. So is she. I’m not involved with anyone. Neither is she. I don’t want a commitment, and from her tone last night, neither does she. And the clincher…
We both have Wednesdays free.
My brain works its magic and I know what I have to do.
Now I just need to wait six more days.
***
Turns out, I don’t have to wait that long at all. On my way home from Dad’s shop, I catch Aria on her way into the ice cream shop. And she’s alone. What are the chances?
I park my bike and follow her in. The bell chimes when I open the door.
Aria doesn’t look back, but she’s tense. She knows I’m here.
“How’s the foot?” I ask, closing in on her personal space from behind.
“Fine.” She takes a step forward. “How’s the death trap you rode in on?”
She did see me pull in. Heh.
“It’s not so much a death trap as a death seeker,” I say.
Aria always hated motorcycles with a passion, one of the reasons I didn’t buy one in high school and possibly why it was the very first thing I bought when she left town.
She rolls her eyes at me, but her cheeks are flushed. This is the perfect time to talk to her about my idea.
“Hey, you know –” I start, only to be cut short by the little dirt bomb again. Jesus, he’s filthy.
“I want ice cream,” he squeaks, barging in right between us.
“What on earth?” she says, but I miss the rest, because pulling up right behind him is – fuck me – Serena.
Well, this plan is going to shit in a hurry.
“Hey buddy.” I bend down to Cade’s level, not meeting Serena’s eyes but definitely feeling the daggers she’s shooting at me. “What flavor are you getting?” I’ve never really been a fan of kids, not sure why, but in this moment, I’d rather talk to the three-foot twerp than acknowledge his grabby aunt.
When I first moved back in with Dad, I made the mistake of being friendly with Serena – in a completely kid sister sorta way – but she misread the signs. Big time. I can’t even think about the mess that followed.
&nb
sp; “Banilla,” Cade says, bringing me back to the current uncomfortable situation.
“Banilla?” I ask. Geez, no imagination with today’s youth. “Well, that’s boring.”
“Maybe we like boring,” Aria snaps at me.
“Yeah,” Serena agrees before looking away. There’s no way she told Aria what happened, so when I level a look her way, she quickly changes her tune. “What does he know?” she jokes to Cade.
Jesus H.
“I highly doubt that you like boring,” I say to Aria before turning my attention on the kid again. “Look at all the choices. What about bubble gum? It’s like two treats in one.” Without thinking, I lift him up to show him.
The little dude hasn’t picked up any of his mother’s prickly tendencies. He practically jumps into my arms.
“I can’t get bubble gum,” the kid says.
“Why not?”
“It’s pink.” He looks at me like I’m a complete moron.
“So?” I say.
“So, that’s a girl’s color.”
“Says who?” I continue.
“Everyone,” he replies.
“Well, that’s a load of crap,” I say.
Aria clears her throat, and Serena shoots another stink eye in my direction.
“I mean, that’s not so. Colors aren’t for boys or girls, they’re for everyone. Plus, some of the best flavors are pink. Raspberry, strawberry, cherry nut. On Saturdays they even have cotton candy. Come down and I’ll buy you a cone.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Tristan,” Aria scolds. “He’s very literal and gets attached easily.”
“If you recall,” I fight back, “I’m not the one who breaks promises.”
And then, as if to prove my point, I touch her. Two fingers take the same path from her shoulder to her wrist as they had our one night together. I squeeze her small shaking hand in mine.
“I’ll see you again, little man,” I tell Cade, appreciating his distraction from the ladies. He might not be so bad after all. And to his mother, I whisper in her ear, “I’ll definitely be seeing you.”