My heart thumps wildly as I follow him to the concrete staircase. I keep my eyes fixed on my feet as we descend the sandy steps. I tried to rehearse a speech on the short walk here, but my thoughts have turned to sludge now that I’m in his presence.
The ocean wind sends his musky scent in my direction. Fuck, he smells good. I’ll have to stand a few feet away from him if I plan on producing coherent speech.
When we make it down to the sand, he turns to me, his hair blowing in every direction. “Harper told me she talked to you.”
A wave of shame makes my skin prickle. “Yes.”
His eyes search my face. “You believe her?”
“I do.” My voice shakes.
His eyes grow wide. “I’m so fucking relieved. You have no idea how?—”
When I raise a hand, his lips close, though they quirk up at the edges. I’m being high-handed, but he seems to find it amusing. Good. I’ll never get through my embarrassing speech if I let him take control of the conversation.
“I have a lot to say, and I need you to think hard. Not speak. Can you do that for me?”
His smile grows. “I can do that. Will I have the floor at the end, my queen?”
His playfulness is like a warm breeze, but I can’t pay heed to my own feelings. I’m determined to do this the right way.
“No,” I say quickly.
He frowns, sticking his hands in the pocket of his hoody. He looks nervous for the first time. “I take it that I’m not going to like whatever you’re going to say.”
He sounds so dejected, I want to reach out and touch him, but he’ll know my true feelings soon enough.
My gaze falls to the sand. “That’s not for me to determine, but it’s important that you think about what I’m going to say before you make a decision. I don’t want you to give me that scholarship, Tristan. I don’t deserve it.”
When I’m finally able to meet his eyes, they hold a question. “That’s what you came here for? To talk about the scholarship?”
“Not only that, but it’s important that you figure out who deserves it. Give it to the girl you admire most. For her strong character, maybe.” The words sound so silly, I can’t blame him for his faint, piteous smile.
“That’s not me,” I continue. “And I don’t want to make assumptions about how you feel. To assume that you still want me. On the hike, you said you were an idiot to be mesmerized by me. And I couldn’t agree with you more?—”
When he starts to speak, I reach out and place my hand over his mouth. His eyes grow wide, and my belly fills with heat at the sensation of his soft lips. He puts his own hand over mine and kisses my palm. I want to lean into his delicious touch, but instead, I yank my hand away.
“Maybe you do still want me,” I say. “Maybe you still want that ‘something’ after the game that you asked for, but I think you should seriously consider what you really want. I’m a baby with my feelings, Tristan. In my entire life, I’ve only had twoclose friends. Three if you count Serena, but I never would have met her if you hadn’t pulled me out of my shell by signing me up for the game. I protect myself. I’ve devoted my life to making sure that I’ll never get hurt. You were right when you called me a coward…”
Tristan opens his mouth, and I shake my head rapidly. “No. Don’t contradict me. Think about…” I want to cringe at the assumption that he wants me to be his girlfriend, but the whole point of this meeting is to lay my heart at his feet. “Think about being in a relationship with someone who’s terrified all the time. Think of how frustrating it will be if we ever get into a fight. Or if I get jealous or feel neglected. I hope I can change, but who knows? Maybe I’ll hide from you or concoct some silly revenge scheme.”
When his smile grows affectionate, I glance out at the ocean. He’s not taking me seriously. He hasn’t had enough time to process what I’m saying.
“I’m far from perfect too, Amy.” His voice is gentle.
I whip my head in his direction. “Tristan Wolfe, will you let me finish my damn speech or not?”
He chuckles, the rich sound full of affection. My stomach does a little turn.
“Sorry,” I say. “My nerves are making me bitchy, but I meant it when I told you I want you to really think before you speak. A part of me is still scared that I’m just a challenge for you. A conquest. If you do still want me, make sure you really know what you’re getting into.”
“And how long do you want me to think about it?” His eyes are glowing. “Before I make a decision.”
A cold wind creeps into my jacket, making me shudder. “I don’t know. Probably a while?—”
“Is twenty-four hours enough?” He smiles. “I have my own speech planned for tomorrow. All about Amelia Harrington.”
For the closing ceremony, he means. Holy fuck, he has a speech. He must have written it already, or at least thought it out.
