He made a superhuman effort to ignore his body’s reaction to her petite form. She had always had that power over him, turning him into a mess of quivering muscles that hungered for her soothing touch. For the longest time, Izzie was the only one who appeased that hunger. He was annoyed to learn she still sent his libido into overdrive. He wasn’t a hormone-driven teen anymore. He should be able to control hisbody.
Tristan banned traitorous memories of their good times to focus on the pain and humiliation she had introduced him to. He needed to send her back to whatever hole she had crawled out of, so he could return to his newlife.
His organizedlife.
His pain-freelife.
He didn’t want to know why she had returned. He didn’tcare.
He didn’t want to find out if the rumors were true. He didn’t need her lying shit right now. He surely didn’t need to make her feel comfortable, when his guts felt turned inside out. Throughout the years, Tristan realized he had a hollow space where his heart had once been. Now, it felt like that gaping hole had swallowed hissoul.
Izzie had made him heartless andsoulless.
So why does my chest hurt so goddamnmuch?
A not-so-discreet cough sounded to his right and Tristan snapped out of the all-consuming trance he had fallen, when Izzie tilted his world out of its axis. He and Izzie were silently dueling right at his restaurant’s entrance, forcing Karen to remind him she had a job to do. Looking past Izzie’s head, he realized that at least five customers were standing, waiting to be taken to their reserved tables. None lookedpleased.
Tristan acknowledged the group with a dip of his head and an apologetic grin, “I’m so sorry. Welcome to Chez Nous Bistro.” He nodded towards the hostess, who didn’t smile back at him. She would give him lip next chance she had. He deserved it. “Karen’s going to take good care of you. Enjoy yourmeal.”
He motioned for Izzie to follow him since she didn’t know the way, as he marched through linen covered tables where celeb-struck people gaped at them. He tried without much success not to stomp, deaf to the lively rendition of Mozart’s Serenade No. 13 that streamed from invisible loudspeakers. Noah, Nelson and Tristan busted their asses to put together the restaurant and it turned out a damn classy joint. He was proud of Chez Nous. He was comfortable there. It was an Izzie-free zone, his safe haven. He didn’t want Izzie in there. He didn’t want her to make new memories that would torment himlater.
Notanymore.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to scare clients away, so he couldn’t take Izzie to the parking lot, nor could they stay in the lobby, or in the main room. The office was the only place left where they could have some privacy. He jerked the door open and waited for Izzie to enter, followed her in, then slammed the doorshut.
“You’ve got a nice thing going here,” she praised, but he didn’t know if she meant the upscale restaurant, or the elegant officefurniture.
Either way, he didn’t care. “Cut the crap. Why are youhere?”
He ignored the twinkle in her green eyes that indicated her ache. He reminded his heart that he washeartless.
No feelingsallowed.
He couldn’tbudge.
If he hesitated for the briefest moment, he would give Izzie the upperhand.
In the past, her suffering had been hisundoing.
Every.
Fucking.
Time.
Notanymore.
So why is my heart thudding against myribcage?
Telling his traitorous ticker to be still, Tristan glowered at the woman standing next to him. Ignoring the perilous curves that the green silk of her calf-length dress hugged, he crossed his arms over his chest andfrowned.
She nodded to the overstuffed leather chairs facing his desk. “Mind if I sitdown?”
“Suityourself.”
He chose to stand beside his mahogany desk while Izzie perched on the edge of one ofchairs.
“What happened toLilly?”
