Chapter 53
That night, I went over to his house for dinner. I’d tried to figure out why the intensity between us felt so altered all of a sudden. We had only technically been together for three weeks, but we'd been friends for a multiplied version of that time. I'd cared for him for months, even before he was really my friend. I mean, who else would go and take care of a sick person that they barely knew? I liked him as a person and for his hot ass body from the moment I met him. Besides Nicole and Zoey, who I had clung to like a trapped insect on a spiders web, there had never been anyone I'd taken to so easily, and yet, he and what we had was completely different.
"This is so good, Mag," I moaned, slurping my noodles. "I think I love your mom."
He nodded, shoveling another forkful of fettucine into his mouth. "I need to take you over to see them," he garbled.
I couldn't help but smile at the idea that he wanted me to go meet his beloved mother. It would be a lie if I said that I didn't like knowing how much he valued the relationship he had with his parents but especially with his mom. Maybe it was because I lost my mom so young, but knowing that he was close to his made me feel more grateful for the time I'd gotten to spend with mine. I couldn't help but appreciate my dad that much more. "I'd like that," I told him.
His smile was cheeky and sweet. "She's been harassing me for the last week to bring you over. If I don't do it soon she's going to show up here randomly."
Polishing off the last portion of my food, I wiped my mouth and watched Tristan eat as non-creepily as I could.
He slapped his palm across the countertop unexpectedly like he remembered something important all of a sudden. "Goldie, I want to see the pictures from Universal Studios," he said with a mouthful of fettucine alfredo. He'd already reminded me about wanting to see the pictures at least three other times, but I kept forgetting to bring my computer over.
I nodded at him and hopped off the stool. "I brought my laptop, let me go grab it," I said, walking into the living room to grab my computer from its spot on his coffee table and nudging a passed out Yoda with my foot.
Tristan was putting our plates into the sink when I came back in and set the computer on the kitchen island before unlocking it and then opening up my iPhoto. He came and sat down on the stool next to mine. Instead of scooting his seat closer to mine, he grabbed the sides of my stool and started pulling it closer to him before I slapped him on the chest with the back of my hand and stood up.
"I'll wash the dishes while you look at them," I said with my back to him. "I've already seen them."
"Deal," he shrugged. Tristan tilted the screen in his direction to start clicking through the twenty or so pictures we'd taken with my digital camera. I'd completely forgotten that I brought it with me on the trip until the last day, like a moron.
I'd just started scrubbing the large pot when I heard him laugh. I turned to look at him over my shoulder and found him smiling at the screen. "What?"
"You looked like such a hobo in my shirt," he answered, smiling at the screen while his fingers kept clicking through pictures. "Like a cute, little hobo."
I snorted as unladylike as possible and turned back. "Whatever."
I heard him chuckle a few more times in the next few minutes, but it was when a few minutes turned into even more minutes that I glanced over my shoulder again to see him staring at the screen intently.
Then I heard it.
I heard a moan that I hadn't heard in years. Four and a half years to be exact.
The plate I'd been washing slipped from my hands and clattered into the ceramic sink, my guts felt the world tilt on its axis.
It felt like time slowed down considerably as I turned completely over to look at him, every muscle in my body tensing up and freezing. His eyes were locked on the screen and his jaw was loose.
"Tristan," I called out to him as I slapped my hands onto my jeans to rub off the soap, not even bothering to rinse them off.
I was going to puke. Oh my God. I was going to puke or pass out, and then hopefully I would have amnesia and not remember that this happened.
His eyes darted to mine as another low and completely overdone moan filtered through the speakers of my computer. "Is that you?" His voice was low and raspy, flicking his eyes back and forth from me to the screen.
I gulped and walked over to stand behind him, hating myself for keeping that stupid video on my computer. Why the fuck didn't I ever delete it? My neck ached with the pressure of my tensing.
"Yes," I squeaked out, looking at a topless, younger version of myself on the computer. Zoey's own topless form scooted on her knees over her old bed, back when she lived in her tiny studio apartment. It all seemed so surreal watching hands in long and short hair, mouth on mouth, stroking hands against exposed chests. It lasted all of five minutes, but it seemed like it was half my life played out before my eyes.
I found my mouth opening on its own volition as soon as the video ended abruptly. Tristan was looking down at the keyboard with his eyes clenched and his hand gripping his thigh. "I thought you said you never did porn," he whispered.
"I didn't, I mean I haven't," I heard the trembling, uneven tone of my voice. It was the same sound I made before I cried. "I told you Zo wanted to get into the industry. She tried going to some of those screenings that they have for new women, but no one ever called her back," I started to explain. "So, she thought that doing a homemade video and sending it to different places would work better. She didn't have a boyfriend, and I mean Zoey wasn't going to have sex with a random stranger back then. She even asked Josh if he could do her a favor and they kind of tried," I had to giggle a little at the memory of Josh and Zoey trying to kiss. It was probably the most visually awkward experience of my life. I'd laughed my ass off watching them fumble through just putting their lips together.
"It didn't work out, obviously. So, then she asked Nikki to do it, and she refused to because she was already in law school at the time."Don't throw up. "Nik has this birthmark on her shoulder blade that everyone can recognize so it wouldn't have worked, you know. She wasn't brave enough to risk it. Zoey asked me if I could do it for her," my throat felt so dry, I had to swallow. Tristan was still looking down but his free hand was now pulling at his hair. "I love Zoey, and I knew how badly she wanted it. I couldn't tell her no. I didn't want to do it. Ireallydidn't want to do it, but I love her. How could I tell her no?” I rambled. “I couldn't. She'd do anything for me and I'd do anything for her."
My eyes stayed on his frozen frame. I knew I didn't do anything wrong and that he had no right to be upset if he was, but still. "It was so fucking weird and luckily, neither one of us wanted to ruin our friendship by doing anything too uncomfortable so we agreed just to keep our underwear on and our hands above our waists. It took a couple of weeks afterward for us to get back to normal, but Zo got what she wanted so I can't regret it, Mag. I'd give you my left lung if you needed it," I added, hoping to let him know that he was just as special to me as Zoey was.
My mouth kept spewing out words on its own. "It isn't on the internet or anything. Only the people she sent it to have seen it and—"
