Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

TRISTAN

My heart raced as I shot up off the couch. "I'm sorry! I can explain. I'm-"

She narrowed her eyes. "Wait, I know who you are. I just-"

Emily came rushing out of her bedroom, her hair a tousled mess. "Mom! I'm sorry. I meant to get up before you. This is Tristan Daltrey."

"My God, Emily. I know who he is." She held her hand to her chest. "But…how come you didn't tell me he was coming over?"

"I didn't know until after you fell asleep."

I cleared my throat before practically vomiting out a bunch of words. "Your daughter was kind enough to provide me with a safe haven last night. I've had some problems with my voice lately and had to cancel the show that was supposed to be tonight. I didn't want to face anyone and deal with all of their questions, so she suggested I come here. Emily is one of the few people who knows what's really going on with me."

"I see. I'm sorry to hear you're having trouble. And well…" She laughed nervously. "I'm sorry for being so startled. Welcome."

I placed my hand over my chest. " I'm the one who's sorry for startling you." Damn, my heart was still pounding.

"No worries." She smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Terry."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Terry." I took her hand, trying to seem innocent instead of like the predator she probably thought I was. I felt like a high school kid who'd gotten caught in his girlfriend's room with his pants down. Or at my age, maybe the high school teacher.

"Tristan needs to rest his voice today, Mom. So we shouldn't talk to him much."

"I can whisper…" I said.

Terry clapped her hands together. "Let me make everyone some breakfast. Pancakes sound good?"

"That sounds amazing," I said.

"Thanks, Mom. That'd be great."

I felt so undeserving of this treatment. Especially when my thoughts about Emily were anything but pure. If her mother knew, she'd kick me out the door instead of making me goddamn pancakes.

After Terry disappeared into the kitchen, I walked over to Emily. "I feel bad. What happened to your alarm?"

"She beat me by a matter of minutes. Trust me, though, she's fine with you being here."

I ran my hand through my hair. "I have no idea how she could be."

"I spent half my life waking up to strange men she'd brought over. This is the first time I had the honor of returning the favor."

That seemed a little fucked up. "Not sure how she could be fine with some dude who's closer to her age than yours camping out on your living room sofa. If I were her, I'd be suspicious."

She ignored my concern, placing her index finger at my mouth. "No talking."

She's lucky I didn't bite that finger. I wanted to. "You're so bossy." My eyes lingered on hers for a moment then fell to her lips.

Emily turned toward the kitchen, and I followed. Her ass looked good this morning in black yoga pants that clung to her like a second skin. I willed myself not to get a hard-on before having to face her mother again. But damn. She'd tied her hair up in a ponytail, revealing her slender neck and those ears that protruded. Apparently, being in proximity of her mother did nothing to quell the ache inside me for this girl.

The smell of brewed coffee was heaven. Emily's mom made a bunch of pancakes and set a large stack on the table. It was one of the best breakfasts I'd had in a while. It tasted like freedom. Like small-town heaven. This reminded me so much of home.

Every time I opened my mouth to speak, Emily glared at me like a drill sergeant. But it felt rude not making conversation with her mother after she'd been so hospitable.

I turned to Emily. "Can I whisper for a few minutes, please?"

She shrugged.

"I can't tell you how nice it's been having your daughter on tour with us, Terry. She's conscientious and hard-working and honestly, a breath of fresh air."

Terry smiled over at Emily proudly. "I'm grateful that she's having this experience. She hasn't had it easy in life." Her mother pursed her lips, stopping short of saying anything further.

"She's told me some things…" I said as I looked over at Emily, unsure how much to divulge.

"I told him about Henry," Emily clarified.

Henry Acadia . The guy she'd killed defending her mother. I'd never forget his name.

Her mother's eyes widened. "You did…" She exhaled. "I'm surprised. You don't tell anyone about...what happened."

Emily looked over at me. "There was something about Tristan when I first met him. I felt like I could trust him."

Hearing that twisted me up inside. It touched me that she trusted me, but then again, should she ?

"I would never tell anyone," I told Terry. "I suggested to Emily that she see our band's therapist, actually. She's really great. And I think she could help her with some of the trauma."

Terry nodded. "I've been telling her she should do that for years. Maybe she'll listen to you before she listens to me." She looked down into her coffee cup for a moment. "There's a lot I wish I could take back about Emily's childhood. I owe her so much. I owe her my life. I just want her to be happy and find something she loves doing. Perhaps find a good partner. As long as she's happy. It kills me that I can't make that happen for her." She reached over to her daughter. "She deserves the world."

"I couldn't agree more," I said.

Terry smiled, lightening the mood. "I still can't believe Tristan Daltrey is sitting in my kitchen."

I felt my face burning. I really wanted her mother to like me. Because I liked Emily. But once again, I reminded myself that messing around with Emily wasn't an option. She deserved stability, and that wasn't something I'd ever be able to give her.

I stood and took my plate over to the dishwasher, then returned to retrieve Emily's. "I don't want to intrude on your mother-daughter time. I saw you have a nice yard. It looks like a beautiful day out, and I brought a notebook with me. I'm gonna head out back and write some lyrics." I looked over at Emily. "I trust you approve since that doesn't include talking?"

Grinning, she nodded. "You've already far exceeded your speaking limit today."

That afternoon, Emily and her mom went to get their nails done together.

While they were gone, I sat in the yard to clear my mind, unfortunately not feeling creative today. Not much songwriting got done, but it was still nice to sit in peace, ignoring the phone calls and texts that came in from the guys. I'd owe them a massive explanation when I got back to the bus tonight, but I needed this mental break, and that meant putting my phone on mute and silencing all notifications. I'd never realized how healthy unplugging was for the soul. The stress felt like it was melting away with each second I stayed away from my phone.

Later, I was back inside on the living room couch when Emily returned. I was surprised to find she was alone.

"Hey." I stood. "Where's your mom?"

"She had to go straight to her job."

"Where does she work?"

"She works the dinner shift at a local diner, three to eleven. She wasn't able to get tonight off."

"Ah, I see."

"We have a few hours, though. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I could eat."

Emily and I ended up ordering food to be delivered and had a relaxing meal outside on the back deck. After we ate, we went back inside and hung out in the living room. We had about an hour before we needed to call a car to return to the tour.

"I'm sure your mother gave you the third degree today," I said, hoping I sounded casual.

"What makes you think that?"

"She had to have asked what the hell you were doing hanging out with me…"

Emily shrugged. "She wasn't mad, but she did wonder if there was anything going on between us."

My pulse began to race. "Did you tell her there wasn't?"

"I did." She stared into my eyes. "That's the truth, right?"

"Right." But as the seconds passed, I gave in to the urge to confess. "I need to be honest with you about something."

She shifted in her seat. "Okay…"

"When you told your mother this morning that you trust me, that meant a lot. But I shouldn't be fully trusted. Because I've been lying to you."

Concern crossed her face. "About what?"

"I've lied in the past when I said I didn't like you that way." I let out a shaky breath. "I like you every way. Even the ways I shouldn't. But I have no business crossing any lines with you, and I don't intend to. As you already know, I'm a lot older, and my lifestyle is all wrong for you. So, basically…my intentions are pure, but my desires aren't. I just thought you should know. Maybe you won't trust me as much."

She swallowed hard, her eyes falling to my lips. "Doesn't sound like you trust yourself…"

"I definitely don't fully trust myself around you anymore. Especially when you look at me the way you do sometimes…like you're looking at me right now."

She drew in a shaky breath. "You've never been with anyone as young as me?"

"I didn't say that. But you're not a one-night kind of girl. I like you, more than I've liked anyone in a very long time. I don't want to mess with your heart. A girl like you needs someone nice to settle down with, not some self-absorbed asshole musician who's always on the road and can't even go anywhere without security. I don't want that for you. I want better."

Emily turned her nose up. "Well, lucky for you, I'm not interested in you romantically." Her face was red as a beet. I couldn't tell if she was lying or if I'd just made her really uncomfortable.

"Good." I nodded. "Smart girl," I added, barely audible. My eyes never left hers as we sat in silence, the soft hum of the furnace the only sound. The air felt charged with electricity, every moment and every breath amplified. Despite my applauding her supposed lack of interest in me, I wanted nothing more than to taste her lips right now. It was like nothing I'd just said mattered. Because if she'd been interested and willing, I would've kissed the hell out of her.

Emily shifted closer to me, our knees now touching. My dick stiffened as I became more aware of the heat of her body, her flowery scent. I still somehow managed to refrain from leaning in and taking her mouth with mine, but though Emily had said she wasn't interested in me, the look in her eyes sent a different message.

Yet despite my hopeful interpretation, I needed to respect what she was telling me, with words, that is. In fact, I hoped it was true, that she had no interest in me beyond friendship. That would make my dilemma a hell of a lot easier.

"Maybe we should head back," she finally said after clearing her throat. "You still have to have your talk with the guys. You can't avoid them forever, you know?"

"Okay." I let out a long breath. "Yeah."

The last thing I wanted was to leave, but this was her house, and if she was done here, it was time to go. Perhaps that was the best decision, given the tension in the air right now.

I expected her to get up, to start gathering her things. Instead, she stayed sitting next to me, not moving an inch. I prayed she couldn't tell I was getting hard.

When she finally did move, it wasn't to get off the couch. Emily leaned in and shocked the living hell out of me.