Follow You Down

by Lazeema Haq

  “Fine. I’ll babysit him, but I’m only doing dinner.”

  Jessica grinned. “I’ll tell him to stock up on condoms in case you change your mind.”

  Vesper stuck up her middle finger at Jessica.

  *****

  Later that night she was sprawled on the bed, studying, when a knock on the door interrupted her. Right away she knew who it was. Tristan. He was the only one who would show up announced this late – it was past midnight – and wouldn’t think anything of it. If she was being honest with herself, a part of her was thrilled that he was here, but that admission alone was enough to make her realise how pathetic she was. As if being his last call booty stop was something to be proud of. Ignoring him she remained in bed, counting on the fact he would eventually give up and slink away.

  Soon the knocking stopped, but then the texts began. Reading each (“I know you’re home”, “I just want to talk”, “Please”), she deleted them. Fifteen minutes later the texts were still coming in even though she had yet to respond. Apparently, Tristan was determined to see to her one way or another. Fine. Fed up, she slid out of bed. The sooner he was dealt with, the quicker he’d leave. Picking up her robe to wrap and tie it around herself along the way, she came to the door. Before opening it, she took a deep breath and reminded herself to maintain her composure; any crack in her resolve and Tristan would jump at the opportunity to manipulate her.

  She opened the door. Damn. Dressed in a leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black jeans, he looked good. Too good. She hated how her pulse quickened simply at the sight of him. He stepped forward, his head bowed to the side. “What do you want?”

  “Can I come in?”

  There was alcohol in his breath. Great, just great. “No.”

  He didn’t appear surprised with her answer. “Fine. We can talk here.”

  “Better yet, you can leave.”

  He looked up at her through his lashes. “Not until I explain myself. I owe you that.”

  His eyes brimmed with regret, yearning for her understanding, but she refused to yield. This was how he had tricked her in the first place. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  Standing up straight, he gripped the door frame on either side of her, his intense gaze boring into her.“You think this is easy for me, Vesper? Coming here when I know I fucked up?”

  Rage rippled through her, dissolving her resolve to remain calm. “I don’t give a fuck about how hard it is for you!” She tried to slam the door in his face but he blocked the attempt, stumbling inside her apartment and grabbing her to balance himself. The sudden close proximity was too much for her. The walls were closing in, making her feel trapped. “Get out!”

  “I will, I promise. I just want to talk to you first. Then I’ll leave.”

  “Leave now! That’s what you’re good at anyway.”

  “I ran because I was scared,” he explained in a voice filled with earnestness.

  She was used to Tristan hiding behind a cocky facade, protecting himself behind taunts and disdain, but now the mask appeared to be stripped away, revealing the vulnerability within him and it was terrifying to realise how easily she was willing to forgive him. “I don’t want to hear this.”

  Being near him wreaked havoc with her resolve and so she turned around to walk away; however, he caught up with her, encircling her in his arms from behind. She struggled against him, trying to push him off; he held on with a firm grip, taking her outburst in stride. It was only after she was out of breath, her strength exhausted, that she finally relented and stopped fighting. Her knees were about to give way, and, as if sensing her discomfort, he pulled her down to sit on the floor. She did as directed, too tired to argue, but stiffened when his arms snaked around her waist, clinging to her. Her senses were suddenly flooded with memories of the night he held her close and kissed her, laughed with her, listened to her, shared himself with her, and then took off in the middle of the night because he didn’t get what he wanted from her. “Let me go, Tristan. Please.”

  “I want to,” he replied, his voice cracking with emotion. “I tried to. I thought if I stayed away it would be easier.”

  “It was,” she lied.

  “Really? Was it? Because it wasn’t for me. I try not to think about you but that’s all I do, all the fucking time. I hate that I can’t get you out of my brain.”

  “Stop it. I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”

  Brushing the hair off of her shoulder, he rested his chin on her hair, silent for a long while as he held her. His breath hummed against her, making her insides melt and ache for things she had no right wanting. She closed her eyes, telling herself to stay strong.

  “I talked to Akil.”

  Vesper cast a surprised glance over her shoulder. “When?”

  “Yesterday. He gave me his number that night we hung out. Actually, he told me to use it when I was in the mood for a booty call but that’s not why I called him.”

  What the hell? She seethed with rage, upset that Akil hadn’t even bothered to tell her about it. Apparently all it took was a pretty face to sway Akil’s loyalties. “I don’t want you calling my friends, Tristan.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You don’t want to know why?”

  “No, I don’t care. Just stop doing it.”

  She tried to get up but his grip remained firm around her, refusing to let her go. His gaze was intrusive, penetrating into her. Since he wasn’t planning on releasing her anytime soon, Vesper turned her back to him; it was easier to stay angry when she didn’t have to look at him. “So why did you call Akil?”

  He nuzzled her shoulder. “I needed advice.”

  “On?”

  “The stock market. What else?”

  “You know what? Get out! I really don’t have time for your sarcasm.”

  “Sorry,” he murmured, skimming his lips along her shoulder. “I wanted to know what I could do to fix things between us.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Well, first he told me I was a fuckhead. A gorgeous fuckhead, but a fuckhead nonetheless. His words, not mine.”

  She held back the smile that threatened to peek out at Tristan’s dead on impersonation of her friend. “He’s right. You are a fuckhead.”

  “Hey, I’m not denying it.” He leaned in closer, practically whispering in her ear. “And then he told me to get my head out of my ass and come to you to apologize. That you’d listen if I was straight with you.”

  “Akil’s wrong. I’m done with you.”

  “I want to explain why I left.”

  “Let me guess. Either you were worried I wouldn’t put out any time soon or the whole virgin thing turned you off. Which one is it?”

  “I don’t care that you’re a virgin.”

  She sniggered. “Liar. Do you honestly believe you’re the first guy to react the way you did? Trust me, you’re not an exception. No matter how much I wanted you to be.”

  He jerked her around partially, forcing her to look at him. “I could be your first, your fifth or the hundredth guy you sleep with. The number doesn’t matter. What does is that….” His eyes were clouded with uncertainty. “It won’t just be sex between us, and that scares the fuck out of me.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I acted like an idiot. How do I fix this?”

  “You can’t. I don’t want to be with someone like you.” He dropped his arms from around her and she quickly scrambled to her feet, determined to put some distance between them. Standing a few feet away, she eyed him with hostility. “I think you should go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You said you’d leave after we talked.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m a little hammered right now. I want to sober
up a little before I go.”

  “You didn’t seem to have an issue driving here!”

  “I was sober then. I needed liquid courage to face you so I took some shots in the parking lot.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Unfortunately, he followed behind.

  “I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for anything?” he asked.

  “What happens the next time something about me scares you? Because I’m telling you right now I’m not easy. I’m a mess. I make mistakes, lots of them, and I’ve done things that aren’t easy to understand.”

  “Hey, I’m not perfect either,” he fired back. “We’ll both have to find ways to deal.”

  “And I’m supposed to take your word that you’ll stick around this time?” she asked mockingly, facing him. “I don’t think so, Tristan. I’m sorry but I’m not built that way.”

  “This isn’t over. I’m not giving up.”

  “That’s your problem, not mine.”

  Tristan was standing in front of the doorway which meant she had to walk past him to exit the kitchen. Hesitation surged through her as she expected him to block her path again; however, he moved to give her the space she needed. “I have an exam I need to study for and I don’t need any more distractions. Show yourself out when you’ve sobered up.”

  “I meant what I said, Vesper. I’m done running.”

  She didn’t respond.

  As difficult as it was to study with Tristan nearby, she forced herself to concentrate. A while later he knocked on the door; before she could reply, he let himself in. Holding a cup, he approached her.

  “Made you coffee.” He set the cup down on the nightstand table. “If you’re planning to pull an all-nighter, you’ll need that.”

  She looked up at him, surprised by the thoughtful gesture. “Thanks.”

  “I’m gonna crash on the couch. Is that okay?”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  Heading for the door, he paused to look back at her. “Holler if you want company. I promise to keep my hands to myself. Mostly.”

  “You just want my bed.”

  “I just want you.” Flashing an incorrigible smile, he shut the door.

  Despite her resolve, she found herself smiling as she returned to studying again.

  *****

  Tristan woke up to find himself in a strange place and it took a few seconds to remember that he hadn’t gone home, he had spent the night at Vesper’s. Unfortunately sleeping on the sofa-bed wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he came over, but he supposed he should be grateful she hadn’t actually kicked him out. As he lay on the lumpy mattress, he stifled a painful groan; his back was aching and he was pretty sure there was a crick in his neck. When he heard rustling in the next room, he kept his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep; he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

  Short while later he realised Vesper was nearby as the scent of her shampoo filled his senses. Tempted to sneak a peek, he forced himself to remain still, and was pleasantly surprised when she sat down next to him. Tristan continued to feign sleep even as it became increasingly harder to do so while she gently brushed the hair from his forehead. Her touch was as light as a feather, hesitant, tentative.

  Enjoying her soft caress, he beamed with the knowledge she felt as strongly about him as he did her. Vesper may have told him it was too late for them, but he didn’t believe her. Hell, he didn’t think she really believed it either. She was hurting and putting up a front to protect herself; he just had to get through to her again.

  If the last few weeks had made him realise anything it was that denying his feelings was pointless; it did more harm than good. He had mistakenly assumed if he cut her out of his life, he could simply go back to the way things were before he met her… except that’s not exactly how things worked out. He was miserable without her, unable to concentrate on work – he ended up losing more money in the last two weeks than he had in the past year – and he was constantly tormented by thoughts of Vesper, half of which weren’t even sexual. Things had gotten so bad that his father – his fucking father who Tristan kept at arm’s length and was extremely careful not to reveal anything about his life to – had actually commented on it (not with concern, but with smug satisfaction) and that’s when Tristan realised enough was enough. There was no point in staying away from Vesper if her absence was going to be affecting him negatively anyway. He came to the conclusion he could be with her as long as he found a way to incorporate Vesper into his life without letting those pesky feelings overwhelm him. That was the problem with his parents, especially his mom. She let passion overrule her life and his asshole of a father took full advantage of that. With Vesper, he’d be careful. He wouldn’t give her the upper hand.

  It took every ounce of strength he had not to pull her into bed with him when she leaned closer, her wet hair tickling his nose (fuck, she smelled amazing!). She dropped a tender kiss on his cheek and he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone this much. It was so bad he spent multiple times a day jerking off to her. At this point the physical need for her was a part of him, and he’d learn to cope with it. He didn’t know how long it would take for her to trust him but he was willing to wait.

  Realising she would be catching on to his act pretty soon, in part due to his body’s physical response to her, Tristan faked a groan and turned to sleep on his stomach. As expected, she moved away quickly so as not to wake him.

  He smiled into his pillow, plotting his next move.

  He must have fallen asleep because when he awoke next the apartment was empty. There was a note on the fridge for him.

  Will be at the library all day. See yourself out.

  PS – Make sure you clean up after yourself. I don’t have a maid.

  He chuckled.

  Chapter Twelve

  Vesper had to say this about Tristan: he was definitely persistent. Despite repeatedly telling him she wasn’t going to change her mind, he still managed to sneak back into her life. Fortunately he did refrain from turning up at her place again, probably because he sensed her hesitation. However, that didn’t mean he was playing it completely safe – he called her every day. At first she kept their conversations short, refusing to share any more of herself, but after a few days she found herself inadvertently opening up. While she would never admit it to him, Vesper looked forward to his phone calls. His voice brought a smile to her face, he made her laugh, and on those days when work was particularly rough a conversation with him was exactly what she needed to lift her spirits. The cautious part of her constantly reminded her to be careful, that he could hurt her again, but it was getting easier to ignore that voice more and more every day.

  “Vesper, someone’s here to see you.”

  Snapping out of her reverie, Vesper glanced up at the new waiter who was standing by the door. “Who is it?”

  “Didn’t ask.”

  She came out of the back, and soon spotted Tristan sitting at the bar, dressed in a casual business suit. He hadn’t noticed her yet, too engaged in a conversation with the tall, statuesque blonde that was behind the bar. Dawn was one of the new hires and with her stunning looks and figure she was already very popular with customers. And apparently with Tristan too. They were laughing and chatting it up. Vesper tried not to let it bother her but she couldn’t help feeling a little insecure – she was dressed in a shapeless uniform whereas Dawn was wearing a tight, black dress that highlighted her perfect body. To be fair, that was Dawn’s uniform, but it didn’t help Vesper feel any better. “Hey,” she greeted, approaching him.

  Tristan turned to look at her, and immediately she felt the butterflies in her stomach. Excitement and nervous panic flitted through her. She had forgotten how intensely he affected her; it was the very reason she was grateful he had kept his distance. Her attenti
on was automatically drawn to his beautiful eyes, which were usually a mixture of blue and grey depending on his mood but were slowly transitioning into a darker shade as he stared at her intently.

  “Hi,” he finally replied, sending her a languid smile, his gaze flowing over her like heated molasses.

  As her heart fluttered in her chest, she reminded herself to stay calm. “What are you doing here?”

  “Want to grab some dinner after you’re done?”

  Say no. Say no. Say no. “Okay.”

  He leaned in closer, apparently surprised with her answer. “Yeah?”

  “You sound disappointed. Did you want me to say no?” Vesper knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help playing up their friendship in front of Dawn who was watching them like a hawk.

  “When do you finish?” he asked.

  “In an hour or so.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “Alright. I’ll see you in a bit.” Walking away, Vesper looked at him over her shoulder. Dawn had resumed her conversation with Tristan; Vesper didn’t know why that unsettled her as much as it did. Of course that was nothing compared to how angry she felt an hour later when she caught a glimpse of Tristan sitting next to the same woman who had thrown a drink at her not too long ago. It’s not like they were alone, in fact they were surrounded by a group of people, but it still hurt to see him with that bitch. Vesper knew the woman was a part of his entourage but she hadn’t realised they were actually friends.

  As the end of her shift drew closer, Vesper wondered why she’d agree to go to dinner with him in the first place. The truth was while they did have some things in common, he was also very different from her. As someone who was born into privilege, he was oblivious to how unfair society could be to those not possessing the right skin colour. He didn’t know what it was like to be discriminated against, to have to scrimp and save every penny just to be able to afford necessities others took for granted, to be treated like crap by people who hadn’t done anything worthwhile other than being borne into fortunate circumstances. In the end, Vesper realised she really had no choice but to cancel her plans with Tristan.