Chapter 16

16

TRISTAN

I stare up at the ceiling, my phone resting on my chest as I wait for Nina’s reply. Each second ticks by agonizingly slowly, stretching into an eternity. I know this is a bad idea, texting her like this.

But she’s become a green ocean I’m willing to drown in. It will hurt. I can already feel the air missing from my lungs. I don’t care.

I can’t help myself. Nina has burrowed her way under my skin and taken up permanent residence in my thoughts. Staying away from her is impossible, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Not anymore.

My phone buzzes and I jolt upright, snatching it up. I read Nina’s text and a surprised laugh bursts out of me.

Dylan’s sister

Looks like you’re the one lying in bed thinking about me, Montgomery

I can practically hear the sassy lilt of her voice.

Another text pings in right after.

Dylan’s sister

How the hell did you get into my phone and change your contact name to Prince Charming? Are you some kind of secret agent?

I grin, shaking my head while I debate how to respond, fingers hovering over the screen. Do I tell her the truth—that I’ve been around her long enough to know her passcode to everything is 1389 and changed it while she was in the bathroom? Or spin an elaborate story about being a covert operative?

I opt for somewhere in between, texting back:

Tristan

If I told you, I’d have to kill you. Except I’d hate to deprive the world of your sunny personality and charming insults. Though it seems like you spend an awful lot of time pondering my many titles and thinking about me…

I hit send and flop back on the bed, still grinning. Gosh, I love messing with her.

I stare at the chat on my phone and something feels wrong. Probably because Dylan’s name is all over it. I flinch at seeing my betrayal of my best friend spelled in black on white. But I can’t think like that at the moment, I need to separate the woman I’m flirting with from the concept of her being Dylan’s sister.

I open Nina’s contact and debate how to change it. Nina Thompson? Just Nina? Something more flirtatious, even if it’s just for me? In the end, I go with Princess of Troubles.

My phone buzzes again the moment I hit save on the new contact name.

Princess of Troubles

In your dreams, Montgomery

The only time I waste a single brain cell on you is when my idiot brother forces us together to ruin my Christmas

I chuckle, recalling our earlier encounter in her closet. The cramped space, our bodies brushing against each other as she reached above me… The molten look in her eyes as I touched her.

Tristan

Really?

I text back, emboldened.

Tristan

Because from the way you were looking at me in that closet, Christmas seemed anything but ruined… In fact, you appeared quite… happy with me?

Her reply is scathing.

Princess of Troubles

Do not flatter yourself, Tristan. You have a pretty face and know how to use it, but that doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want

Tristan

I only want to do what you want me to do

What is that, Princess, because your mouth says one thing but your eyes tell a whole different story

Princess of Troubles

Why did you stop calling me Gremlin?

The change of subject is so abrupt that I almost fall off the bed. Her text stops me cold.

Seven insignificant words, but they land with the impact of a grenade. As I stare at the text on my phone, my stomach knots tight. It seems like a straightforward question, but coming from Nina, it feels loaded.

Weighted.

I could deflect, brush it off with a joke. Keep things superficial between us. The smart move when she’s Dylan’s younger sister. But that’s not what she’s asking. Not what she wants. Nina wants me to be real. She wants me to peel away a layer I’m not sure I’m ready to expose. But admitting why I stopped means acknowledging this growing attraction. This intensity that’s pulling me into her orbit like never before. It terrifies me.

Because it’s not just physical. I felt it in the closet. Yeah, I had my hands on her flesh, but it didn’t even compare to what looking into her eyes did to me. That soul-deep connection. The sense that this woman could wreck me and I’d beg her for more.

My thumbs hover over the keypad, uncertain. I know my next words could change everything. Define a new path.

I could go halfway again. But I don’t want halfway.

I want everything.

I want real.

I want her.

With a jolt of adrenaline, I type the truest words I’ve ever sent.

Tristan

In all these years, I never realized the name was hurtful to you. I thought it was just an inside joke between us. I never wanted to harm you or mock your body. I’m sorry if I did. I’m sorry if it hurt you

My thumb trembles as I hit send, launching my heart into the unknown.

The check marks appear. She’s read it.

Then… nothing.

The typing bubble doesn’t appear. No incoming text. Just silence as heavy as the words I put out there.

Seconds drag into a minute. Then another. I stare at her name on the screen until it blurs, willing a response to appear.

But there’s only the maddening “Read 10.48p.m.” staring back at me.

Doubt creeps in, cold and insidious. Did I misread things? Come on too strong? Is she laughing at my vulnerability right now?

I toss the phone aside and pace the room, hands raking through my hair. I’m unraveling, desperate for a reaction. Any reaction.

But Nina stays silent.

And it’s driving me crazy. I can’t take this anymore. I need to see her face, gauge if I’ve royally screwed this up. Texting is torture.

Before I can second guess myself, I’m yanking open my bedroom door, ready to stride down the hall with single-minded purpose.

I don’t care if Dylan sees me. Or if this is a mistake. All I care about is getting to Nina.

Demanding answers in person, even if I dread what they might be. Because not knowing is far worse.

I’m risking it all, but she’s worth the risk.

I just hope I haven’t destroyed us before we’ve even begun.