The mattress right next to me shifted with his weight change until I felt his heat looming over me. "I'd like to meet this hummingbird one day."
Holy Mother.
Chapter 47
I was squirming in my seat and couldn't help it. At. All. I was also glad that Zo didn't have leather seats. I was moving around so much I'd probably be making farting noises that she would never let me live down. It was kind of a silly worry considering she'd let two rip since I'd gotten into the car. Zoey kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye trying to be slick. Unfortunately for her, this was Zoey, and I knew everything about her. She was the size of a roach and made noises that rivaled those of an elephant. She was the antonym to the word inconspicuous. All day I'd been itching in my skin to leave, subconsciously going as far as to wake up a full hour earlier than normal out of excitement for the beginning of the trip. My bag was zipped and sitting by the front door for more than forty-eight hours.
Being that she was the best half-woman half-child in the world, she was keeping Matlock for me through the weekend and driving me to the airport. Tristan had offered to come pick me up after taking Yoda to his parent's house, but after he told me where his parents lived, it just seemed like a big inconvenient circle of driving to do so.
The smile on her delicate features was deceiving, on anyone else that slanted pull of lips and cheek would seem like a sweet smile but on this girl, I knew whatever thoughts were rolling through that head were anything but sweet.
Cue the Zoey word vomit.
"Did you bring condoms with you?" her falsetto voice floated through the air.
Jesus Christ. "No, I didn't. Thank you very much."
She nodded, facing forward while changing lanes. "That's fine. We have to get tested all the time and I think Tristan, I mean Robby, always wears a condom—"
I couldn't help the way my neck tensed at the mention of Robby and his dick's doings. Who wants to imagine that the person they have feelings for, the person who likes to snuggle on the couch, and gives soft kisses, had also created a career out of having sex with women who had monster tits and bleached assholes? Not me. I knew that it was only because of my unconditional love for Zoey and my decent amount of self-esteem that I was even able to sit in her car on my way to a weekend of fun and porn conventions.
Zoey sighed so deeply it seemed like she had held in each breath that she'd taken the entire morning. She turned to look at me for a split second, a soft smile and a wink on her face. "I think it's really cute you two haven't jumped the gun. I mean, I want you to get some sooner than later but I'm glad you're taking your time, KAB."
"Thanks, Zo," I told her, reaching across the console to pinch the skin on her forearm. "I'm not doing it intentionally, he hasn't pushed and I haven't either."
The wistful look on her face before she nodded in understanding tugged at me, as she pulled her car over to the curb at the airport drop-off section. I was out of the car and yanking out my small carry-on suitcase from her trunk before she threw her arms around me as she told me to have a good time.
I turned around to find Tristan standing at the massive sliding doors with his duffel bag at his feet, grinning like the idiot he was. He threw up a hand to wave me over and in no time, we had checked into our flight, dropped off his duffel bag for check-in because of that damned hair dye, and fought over who got to roll my suitcase around since I refused to let him pay money to check it in. "You're such a pain in the ass," I muttered to him once he snatched the handle of my suitcase away from me, starting to drag it down the wide corridor toward our gate.
"Your short legs are kind of a pain in the ass," he snapped back with a snort.
"Three-fourths of the population has shorter legs than you do, ass. Quit walking so fast!" I huffed, taking quick steps to catch up to him.
He turned to look at me over his wide shoulder and grinned, switching his hold on the handle from his right arm to his left. He held his now empty hand out just a few inches away from his body, but with his fingers extended wide and close to me. I stared at his digits for a few seconds while trying to decide whether or not he was holding it out for me, or not, but those green orbs flickered up to my own. All I could see was some strange emotion that rivaled fear or maybe indecision staring back at me.
My hand slipped up from its spot on my side over to clasp onto the tips of his fingers. He grinned at me, entwining our fingers together. We walked together silently until we reached the terminal, plopping down on two seats to wait for our flight. "What do you want to do when we get there?" he asked, leaning over the armrest between us to speak directly into my ear.
He was so hot it was ethereal. He was perfect with his sharp jaw, straight nose, full lips, and bulging bicep muscles tightening the material of his flannel shirt. I deserved to win an award for managing to focus in his presence. "Let's drive down Hollywood?" I suggested trying to talk coherently, while his thumb brushed small circles over the webbing of skin between my own thumb and index finger.
"Whatever you want, goldie," he said with a smirk.
I should have quit being a pussy and told him that he was what I wanted. For that moment. Forever. Whatever. I didn't though, because I was scared. I knew we needed to talk and determine exactly what we were, because I hated the feeling of indecisiveness and freedom between us since there weren't any words that had cemented us together. For all I knew, he might have been into the idea of an open relationship, which would kill me inside, but then I remembered that he admitted having punched the wall out of jealousy, so he couldn't really be into that idea either.
What I wanted to hear was his words. I'd make sure to get that during the weekend if nothing else.
Chapter 48
"It looks cooler on television," I whined to Tristan, talking about Hollywood Boulevard.
He smiled at me and shrugged, as he pulled our rental car into one of the spots at the front of the hotel we were staying at. We had just spent the last two hours driving through Hollywood's shitty traffic while I looked out the window at the various buildings and attractions I'd only seen on the tube in the past, and then stopped to eat at a random diner close to the hotel. He'd suggested that we pull over to sightsee, but I convinced him it was okay to head straight to the hotel since it was already close to midnight and I was pooped. We got out of the car, and I helped him pull my suitcase out of the trunk.
The plane ride had been filled with a gay flight attendant flirting with Tristan, who took it with more grace than any other man ever could, and then the lady next to him accidentally spilled her cup of water into his lap. When the old hag leaned over to try and wipe at his crotch with her napkin, I smacked her hand away and made him do it himself. Shit. If I hadn't touched it yet, then I sure as hell wasn't about to let some stranger touch the promised land.
Tristan yanked the handle of my suitcase out of my hand and smiled sheepishly while walking quickly through the moving doors of the hotel. "Walk faster, I need to pee," he called out from his place two steps ahead.
He walked toward the front desk, dropped his duffel onto the floor, and settled my rolling suitcase against his thigh while pulling out his wallet to talk to the employee. I stood just a few feet behind him, looking around while he checked us in, taking in the seats and couches in the lobby. Tristan hadn't told me hardly anything about where we were staying, or what we exactly we were doing, and I didn't bother asking because he could have said we were staying at some hole in the wall motel with Big Lou working the front desk, vibrating beds, and tube televisions on the dresser for all I cared and I would have been fine.
"Ready to go up?" his husky voice whispered into my ear, so close to the skin I could feel the moisture from his hot mouth on me even after he pulled away.
