Then you'll just be bored with me there.
Less than a minute later, my phone chimed again.
I'm never bored with you. Come over. I'll order a pizza and think about letting you choose a movie.
I really didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day, besides vegging out in front of the television and trying to get some writing done.
Meat lovers pizza and I choose the movie. Deal?
Deal
I got dressed, opting for a stretchy pair of shorts and a tank top before feeding my cat, Matlock, and heading out. My lower back was hurting just a little, but I figured it was from overdoing it at yoga. After so much driving to his house, the trip across town didn't seem as long as it did the first three times. The now familiar gray house stood out from its neighbors, and when I pulled over to park in front of it like I'd done each other time, I spied a middle-aged woman standing on the porch next door. She was wearing shorts that were just as short as mine, but her top was cut lower than the one I had on. She stood there and stared while I jogged up to Tristan's front door.
The last three times, I'd let myself in because he was too sick to get up and open it himself, but now, I didn't know what to do. I was standing there, debating whether to knock or unlock it with my key when the door swung open to reveal Tristan in plaid sleep pants and a t-shirt that was a size too large. He still looked a little pale, thinner, and his eyes a bit dull.
"Why are you standing out here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Why are you standing right by the door?" I replied, not wanting to have to explain why I was out there.
"I thought you were the pizza person," he said, stepping to the side after waving me into the house. "C'mon, I don't want old Mrs. Goldberg taking the open door as an invitation to come over."
I came in and toed off my shoes, earning a big smile from Tristan before following him into the living room. He had taken his comforter back upstairs from the look of it and maybe even cleaned a little. "Is she the cougar next door? She was staring at me when I walked over here."
He groaned before plopping down on one end of the couch. "She's crazy. I'm pretty sure she has cameras outside, because every time I mow the lawn, she always just happens to drive up. Even if it's at three in the afternoon during the week, she's just there. It's creepy."
"Do you mow the lawn with your shirt off?" I asked, sitting down on the other end of the big sofa with my short legs dangling off the edge. Tristan nodded at me in response and I shrugged. "Well there you go, she just wants to check out the goods. Don't be upset with the lady. I have a neighbor that sits on the stairs to check out girls in their running outfits."
He gave me a lazy smirk. "Do you let him look at you?"
"No way, I've told him before that if he checks out my ass when I'm going up, I'll kick him in the face. Once, he did it to Nicole, and she got right up in his face and told him she'd knee his balls back into his stomach. Now, he just ignores me and runs to hide when Nikki comes to visit." I told him with a grin.
He shook his head and positioned himself so that his back rested against the end of the couch. "I think Calum has his work cut out for him with your friend. Don't tell her anything, okay?" he asked, waiting until I nodded in acceptance. "Calum usually calls me at least four times a day, everyday. Since last weekend, I think I've heard from him a total of five times this entire week. He said he'ssmittenwith Nikki. Smitten! How the hell does he even know what that means?"
I had to smile because Nicole had been the same way. "I talk to Nikki everyday, and she's only called me about three times, too. Once was the day after Josh’a party, when she could barely talk, and the other two times were just short conversations to tell me she's alive."
The doorbell rang right then, and Tristan hopped off the couch to get the door. I heard him talk to the pizza guy before coming back carrying a familiar cardboard box. "You have no idea how glad I am that you wanted a meat lovers pizza," he said, as he set the pizza box on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen. My eyes followed his plump ass cheeks as he walked around. The faint pain in my lower back was starting to get really distracting, so I got up to look at the various things set up on the bookcase and shelves surrounding the big screen television that was mounted above his fireplace.
There were pictures of a pretty woman with caramel colored hair and a really,reallyattractive, older, auburn-haired man standing together in front of a church. Another picture was of a much younger Tristan and Calum at DisneyWorld, each wearing Mickey Mouse ears. Then, there were several in various ages of a light brown haired little boy with bright green eyes, with the same man and woman in the first picture. I had to guess that these were his parents. "Tristan! Are these pictures of your mom and dad?"
"Yes!" he yelled back from the kitchen. The opening and closing of cabinets muffled his voice before he reappeared holding two plates, napkins, a glass of water, and a can of soda. He gave me that cute, crooked smile as he set the things down on the coffee table before coming around to stand very close next to me, looking at the same pictures I had just gotten done inspecting. He pointed at the first picture. "They renewed their wedding vows about five years ago." The more I looked at the picture, the more resemblance I noticed between Tristan and his father; they had the same jaw, mouth, and the same wild disarray of hair.
"If you look like your dad when you're his age, your wife is going to be a lucky, lucky woman." I laughed.
He scowled at me as he grasped my forearm to pull me toward the couch again. "I'm going to pretend like you didn't just imply that my fifty year old father is attractive."
"He is!" I giggled, sitting in the middle of the couch in front of one of the plates he'd set down.
Tristan waved me off, frowning, before opening up the pizza box and extracting a slice of pizza with just his hands and setting it onto my plate before putting another one on his. "Just eat, I don't want to lose my appetite thinking about you finding my dad..." he trailed off before faking a gag.
I elbowed him in the ribs, and then started eating the slice of meaty goodness. We each polished off two slices in silence before he pressed a hand against his stomach, moaning about how he hadn't gotten his appetite completely back yet. The pain in my lower back had gotten worse, and when I stood up to help him clean our mess, I felt it.
That familiar throb between my legs and lower stomach.
Suddenly, I felt wet.
Not the good kind of wet either, so I didn't think twice about shoving my hand between my legs to feel the proof of my body's doing.
Oh God, please, no.
